Brock & Theresa's Ice Age Trail Journey

Day 107: Cross Plains Segment, Dane County

Day 107: Saturday, October 9th, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 0.8

Location: The Connecting Route between the new parking area on Stagecoach Road and the intersection of Stagecoach Road and North Birch Trail

0.8 miles of trail half-covered plus 3.2 miles extra hiking/biking

There wasn't going to be any hiking today, really. But then opportunity presented itself, so...

October 2021. The month we decided to do the 'Mammoth Hike Challenge', putting in 41 miles on the trail in the month of October. Last weekend I did a pretty good job, getting in 18.2 miles, but I was still not sure if I could get in all 41 miles, especially since I had no vacation time to take, and I was going to lose today to other obligations.

My sister was visiting for the first time in four years, and because I had been hiking nearly every weekend I had been a very bad son in terms of how often I've gone to visit my mother. I would have been remiss indeed if I didn't take at least one day out of my busy hiking schedule to go visit them.

So I was up before dawn, driving to Verona in exactly the kind of foggy haze you see in the photo above. The plan was to meet both my sister and my mother at the Epic Headquarters in Verona, a place I had never visited, nor even realized was a tourist-worthy destination. The target time was 10:00 am, where we would take a self-guided tour about the grounds, admiring the amazing décor and artwork. More on that later.

But even though I would have gotten there on time, it turns out my family was running a bit late, so that gave me some time on my hands as I drove past Cross Plains on the way to Verona. What to do?

Pulling out my trusty Ice Age Trail Atlas, which I am seldom without these days, I determined that the best thing I could do was snip off a little bit of Connecting Route to add to my total miles hiked for the Challenge. I chose the small section south of Cross Plains along County Road P, extending south on P and then east on Stagecoach Road, which is actually included in the total miles for the Cross Plains Segment.

Being short on time, and not knowing when I would get the call that my family was more certain about their arrival time, I did the thing I swore I would never, ever do again. I parked my car at the parking area on P, got my bike off the rack, and started walking down the road with my bicycle at 9:44 AM. From the photo below you can see that the fog had finally burned off, and it was a beautiful, sunny day.

The reason one doesn't walk down the road pushing a bicycle is simple. It's not normal. Everyone assumes you need help. In this case, though, it was not the cars who were stopping to ask, but rather the other bicyclists who were passing by, of which there were many.

If you ever choose to go bicycling along County Road P or Stagecoach Road in Cross Plains on a sunny Saturday morning in October, know that you will be in fine company, because no less than 20 bicycles passed me as I walked this route, and nearly every one of them showed concern. In most cases I was able to wave them along, assuring them I was OK with a gesture. In some cases, though I had to engage in conversation as they slowed or stopped asking about my health and well-being.

"This is on purpose", I would say, repeatedly. "I'm hiking the Ice Age Trail, and this is just so I don't have to walk it in both directions." Whether that made clear the reasoning for walking down the highways and byways of Wisconsin pushing a perfectly good bicycle I wasn't always sure, but at least it assured them all that I was not in distress, so they each in turn pedaled off on their way.

Interactions with humans aside, you would think that walking down a couple of miles of roadway and biking back again wouldn't have much to talk about, but you'd be wrong. As I was legging it eastward on Stagecoach Drive, I passed a curiously familiar parking lot on the north side of the road. Familiar enough that I decided to investigate. And much to my shock and dismay, I saw an unmistakable sign that something had gone wrong with my reasoning and plans for the day. A literal sign. Because there, in the parking lot, laying on the ground was a new trailhead sign that hadn't been planted yet. And beyond it, leading off into the field, was a set of yellow blazes.

Dismayed, confused, I pulled the maps out of my pocket. What had I missed? Was there a 'future trail' marking to alert me that there would eventually be new trail here? There was not. The IATA had pulled a dirty trick on me and slipped in a new section of trail without warning. I had just hiked 1.2 miles of roadway that was no longer considered cannon. It was not 'trahentium sanctificavit. It was just... road.

As I was standing there semi-annoyed at - something - a car pulled in with two people and a dog. I waited long enough for them to get out and asked how long this section of trail had been in place. "About two months", came the reply. "It's brand new."

Bummer.

I eventually checked online. There, in red and green, was the clear evidence that the trail had been moved. The blue mark on the left shows where I parked. The trail now goes due east and then south from that spot. My newest and most up-to-date trail atlas showed that the connecting route goes south along P and east on Stagecoach. If you're headed out that way, look for the new Parking area, marked by the blue flag in the middle of the three below.

There is actually another trail sign there, visible from the road, which has been planted, and which identifies this new section as a path through the Black Earth Creek Preserve. I spotted this sign after leaving the new parking area.

There were no more stories to tell. I walked down the road another tenth of a mile or so and got a call from my sister giving me a new meeting time at Epic. I decided to finish walking to the corner of Stagecoach and North Birch Trail just so I would have something to put under my belt.

A short walk, and a two-mile bike ride later, and I was done putting on miles. I reasoned that even though I could only count 0.8 miles half-covered on the official trail, I could count the whole 2.0 miles toward the Mammoth Hike Challenge, because it was done in good faith.

When I got back to the car I looked across the road, and sure enough, shining in the sun was the yellow blaze I had missed showing me that the trail continued east from that point, and did not head south along the road. I guess I'll get to walk that way when I come back with Theresa.

The story doesn't end there. When I left, I drove the way of the Connecting Route, and along the way I encountered a group of about eight hikers walking the road, and I pulled over behind the last two to ask if they knew about the new trail just up the road. They did not, and they appreciated that I had stopped to give them the heads up. They were all out putting on miles for the Mammoth Hike Challenge, too.

The man I was talking to noticed the SnOTT picture on the side of the van. "Hey look", he said, talking to his wife and gesturing at the sign. "It's that new snail group on Facebook."

"Oh yeah!" she said. "That's me - last one in line."

I decided that since they had caught an official 'Snail on the Trail' and self-identified as same, they qualified for patches, which they happily accepted. As I left, I saw that the rest of their group had waited for them to ask what I wanted and saw her showing off her patch to the rest of them. It put a smile on my face.

The last part of the story was that, in accordance with the other requirement of the Mammoth Hike Challenge to visit Trail Communities and take photos, I went to Verona to meet with my family and walk the grounds of the Epic Campus. It felt like corporate America's version of Disney Land, with different buildings constructed and decorated in themes. I walked only a portion of the campus that day, but saw dragons, tractors, fictional characters from popular books, subway stations, amazing artwork and more than I can relate here or even recall. Here are a few of the photos I took to end my day.