Day 142: Milwaukee River Segment (Washington County), West Bend Segment (Part 1), Washington County

Day 142: Saturday, February 26th, 2022

Total Miles covered for the day: 8.7

Location 1: The Milwaukee River Segment (Washington County)

6.9 miles of trail covered

“Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. A mile becomes a long way, two miles literally considerable, ten miles whopping, fifty miles at the very limits of conception. The world, you realize, is enormous in a way that only you and a small community of fellow hikers know. Planetary scale is your little secret." 

― Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail

Bill Bryson, a celebrated author who wrote a book about his aborted attempt to hike the Appalachian Trail, nevertheless embodies the very essence of the Snail. Achievements do not have to be done quickly to be celebrated, and need not be measured by any yardstick other than one's own. Though he did not walk all of the Appalachian Trail, he nevertheless considers himself to be a veteran achiever of merit. 

It is certainly our intent to continue forward with this pursuit, and eventually walk all 1200 miles of it. But if anything were to interrupt that goal we are no less satisfied in knowing that we have covered over 900 miles on this trail, and have seen pretty much every variation of natural terrain Wisconsin has to offer, from bog and swamp to lofty peak, from thickest forest to sandy savanna, from hemlock grove to wave-crashed beach. We have, at this point, seen it all. Our drive to finish is merely to be able to say to ourselves that we are done with the thing, and what a great adventure it has been.  

Today was one of those rare times we hooked up with another hiker, to walk side-by-side with us as we inched our way down the trail. 

Welcome to The Snails, Billie Burdick!

Yesterday we told people where we were hiking and there was lots of interest. Several people said they wanted to hike with us, and we left it open for anyone who wanted to attend. Billie was the one one who showed up on time at the launch point. 

Actually, we were the ones who were a little late. I had been at the launch point, the parking area on East Moraine Drive, before the intended start time of 10:30 and found it to be still covered in snow from the day before. I pulled out my trusty shovel and within 15 minutes or so had cleared out enough parking for three cars. Theresa arrived, a few minutes before 10:30, and she followed me north to the drop zone for our target vehicle. 

While we were there, at the connection between the northern and southern Milwaukee River Segments, we encountered three hikers who hadn't heard of us, but still were glad recipients of the SnOTT patches. They declined a photo. However, this took some time, and by the time we got back to the parking lot, Billie was waiting alone for us, and we were nearly 10 minutes late. 

In no time at all we explained our method of hiking and Billie grasped it faster than most. We started hiking north at 10:45 am, and the temperature was 20 degrees. 

It was chilly, with steady 15 mile per hour winds blowing south to north, and that made for a complicated decision on layers. After snapping the photo above a big gust of wind came up and I decided it would be better to have too many layers on than not enough. While the two women hiked north, I ran back to the car to put on one more.  

We were following the tracks of some four-tired monster that marked the trail. I don't know if this was something done intentionally to make hiking easier, but it certainly worked out that way, and it made it easier for us to walk side-by-side with Billie and have a conversation as we went. 

Somewhere on this stretch there is a nice bench to sit on, but we declined. It was too early to get our butts soaking wet. 

The segment is named for the county it's in, but at the very north end the last four tenths of a mile are in Fond Du Lac County. Somewhere near that county line there is one medium-sized hill to climb, and on top of it we met the three hikers whom we had given patches to earlier.

They were great people, fun-loving and energetic, and we spent a little more time chatting with them and introducing them to Billie. But - we were headed north, and they were headed south, so with a smile and a wave, we parted ways. 

Somewhere along the way the Snowcat, or whatever vehicle was used to flatten the snow on the trail, had turned around. Now that I think about it, maybe there were only two tires, and what I was seeing was two out and two back. That meant we were back to normal slogging through the snow, but there had already been many footfalls before us to mark the way. 

The section was heavily wooded with trees that were a little on the young side.  

When we got to the road, 1.0 miles into our planned hike for the day, we met two new snails, Anne and Jim Wilson, and their dog Lexie. 

I must say that Billie was very patient and understanding of our desire to interact with hikers and give patches away. In fact, she rather seemed to enjoy it. 

Before we left I said, "Hang on - I need to go over there and touch the sign." We explained to Billie that we did this as a ritual, and that we did it so that we could always say we covered every inch of the trail. 

"I totally get it," she said. 

Next, we drove down to the Hwy 28 parking area, which was loaded with parked cars. There were two people waiting for us at the trail head sign. 

Camille Sterr and Stacy Schickert had hiked this section before, but really wanted to come find us and get SnOTT patches, so they came here again to cross paths with us. They had hiked the trail from our launch point headed south, thinking they would definitely cross paths with us, but they underestimated our snailishness. By the time they had finished their 1.8 mile hike from East Moraine Drive to Hwy 28, we had not quite completed our one mile hike to the north and gotten to the Hwy 28 trailhead, even though they left a little after we did. 

Apparently they forgot to factor in socializing time. 

Fortunately, they got our group chat message before they left the parking area, and they waited for us to arrive. As a reward, they became our 7th and 8th SnOTT patch recipients of the day, and Theresa proclaimed that one of them was actually our 200th recipient. 

Of all the investments we've made so that we could enjoy our hiking, these patches were the best. 

We headed north again at 12:06 pm, with a brisk wind at our backs. Thankfully the temperature was creeping up, and would hit 30 before the day was done. 

Right at the trailhead was a sign telling a brief history of the Kettle Moraine State Forest. I found the information interesting. 

It was also interesting that this small part of the trail was covered in juniper trees, both the low-lying variety and the standing variety, also known as red cedar. I hadn't seen these growing north of here in any abundance, but they made for a dominant presence on the hills surrounding the parking lot. 

The going was hilly, but I really felt like this particular section wasn't too bad. It was getting trampled already from all the people who had been there in the last 30 hours. 

We spent the next two hours hiking along this gorgeous section of trail, mostly walking on top of an esker that at times seemed ridiculously level and straight, considering the hills around us. The going was so easy, and the conversation so enjoyable, that I forgot to take very many photos. 

We did see a hairy woodpecker flitting across the sky, and heard another pileated off in the distance. Even so, we talked about the absence of other birds we should have seen. Cardinals, blue jays, juncos, chickadees - all were notably absent in sight, sound and tracks in the snow. Only the woodpeckers and the crows were present, and not even those in abundance. 

We crossed paths with many people, as we hiked this section, none of whom seemed like appropriate recipients for snail patches. It was a delightful walk, and we ended this leg at about 1:35 pm.

Our next leg took us all the way down to the intersection with County Road H, where the bridge is out. We weren't sure where to park, so we parked right down by the barricades. We made sure to walk as close to the water's edge as was reasonable before heading north again. Ironically, this was the first glimpse we had of the river for which these two segments are named. 

After walking up the road a very short distance we headed into the woods. If you look closely, you can see one of the cranes in the background that is being used to reconstruct the bridge. 

There was a lone set of footprints in front of us. 

"Not so many hikers through this part," I said. I wasn't wrong, but I wasn't right either. One tenth of a mile from where we started at the water's edge the trail dipped down to the parking area, which was large enough to accommodate many vehicles, and many were there. 

"These folks here, I said, "are trail hikers. That fellow we followed back there," I said, gesturing back the way we had come and indicating that lone set of tracks, "is an Ice Age Trail Hiker. He wanted to get cover every single inch."

The shared joke went over well. 

We decided I should run back down to the road to get the car and bring it back up to the parking lot. No sense leaving it in the way. I did that while Billie and Theresa kept hiking.

I caught up to them about a quarter mile down the trail, where there there is an actual hand pump for water. Many times I have extolled the virtues of these 'old-fashioned' pumps, because they work. More 'modern' water systems all require electricity and leave water exposed in areas where it will freeze and destroy the delicate plumbing. These old beauties solve that by leaving the water deep in the ground, where it won't freeze. All it takes is a little elbow grease to pump the water up, and you can have fresh, clean water year round. 

Shortly after that, the trail heads up into the hills again. 

Unlike the first tenth of a mile, this section looked like fifty people had walked both ways, averaging 0.6 dogs per person. The path was trampled four feet wide, although it tended towards a left and a right main channel. 

After that first hill, however, the way once again became fairly level and easy going. To either side of us the kettles plunged, wide and deep, and other eskers ran merrily alongside the one we were walking on. The topography through here is both intimidating and breathtaking, assuming you like hills and trees in close quarters. 

I never found a way to photograph them and give them any justice at all. 

This leg, which I felt was the nicest of all the Milwaukee River short-hikes, ended at 3:22 pm. We had managed to complete map 87, which is becoming a rarity for us at the moment. Rather than focusing on finishing maps, we're focused on finishing Segments. It just so happens that there is no Connecting Route mileage on map 87. 

We needed to take a break, and we weren't at all sure what our plans were going forward, so we bid adieu to Billie for the day before figuring out what to do next.

With two miles left of the segment, we weren't sure we could finish before dark. We took the long drive around to the parking area on the other side of the missing bridge, then went to check out the situation. We determined it would be possible to park on Sandy Ridge Road, right at the top of the hill where the trail crosses, once I shoveled a space for myself. 

The sun was going down fast, and we were trying to learn the lessons of the day before. Thirty during the afternoon, sure, but with that wind blowing the temperatures fall fast when the sun starts going down. We brought our extra layers with us. 

The wind was picking up speed, and was starting to have a bit of a bite. This leg started at 4:05 pm.

We had just missed a group of hikers traveling the same direction we were headed. We saw them far off in the field, and never crossed paths with them. They did, however, trample down the path for us a bit. Right as we got started, we saw a group of three bald eagles flying above the river and settling into a tree. The open water of the Milwaukee River brought them, and they will often congregate in groups in spots like this during the winter. 

The hike started out with a walk through the field that felt longer than it really was because of the wind. 

Then it rounds a corner and goes into the woods. This woods has a different feel to it, though, than the rest of the segment. This part feels more like some farmer's 'back 40', and there are the nearby fields and grassy tree lines to prove it. 

The going was not very hilly at all, and we made pretty good time as we walked. For the first and only time, as we finished this leg, we actually spent a few minutes walking within sight of the Milwaukee River. The trail didn't go right next to it, but we could see it from where we walked. 

just before reaching the car at the other great parking area next to the river, I stopped in the biting air long enough to take this shot of the sun casting shadows across the snow scallops formed by the stiff wind today. The low angle of the sun highlighted the crest of the snow-waves, and the wind deposited grains of snow and ice in a gentle slope behind each crest. In miniature, this is the same pattern seen on a drumlin, where the leading edge is steep, and the trailing edge more shallow. Contrary to what might seem reasonable, snow does not 'pile up' against a barrier in windy conditions. Instead, the barrier will be almost free of snow, while the trailing edge behind it will fill in to the top. It is the downwind side of a house that will have the highest snowdrifts after a storm.

The more of these signs I see, the more I like them. I am reminded that the Ice Age Trail did not spring forth whole from the earth in its present form. It took planning, time, and money, and the generosity of families like the Schaefers to get it to where it is today. There is a dream that someday the trail will be complete and uninterrupted, with no connecting routes. One mile at a time, the efforts of the Ice Age Trail Alliance are dedicated to making that dream a reality. 

We reached this sign at 4:42 pm and decided we had enough time to finishf the Segment. 

The last mile of the segment at the southern end runs between Highway 45 to Sandy Ridge Road. I remembered from the weekend before that right at the trailhead there is an access road that runs directly off the highway for a few dozen feet before crossing the bike trail. We were certainly not the first people to have pulled in there to park, though I'm guessing the trail groomers who had been there earlier in the day may have taken exception to our use of the space if they had come by after us. 

Either way, we found a convenient place to park to launch our last hike of the day. 

We started at 5:05 pm. The sun was just setting behind the ski hill as we began our walk across the marsh. 

The trail goes east, and south, and east, and south. This meant that the south wind we had been avoiding most of the day was in our faces for part of the hike. 

Of all the bits and parts of the Milwaukee River Segment, this is the only one that could truly be considered 'flat'. The first four tenths of a mile ran on top of a berm that had been dredged up or laid across the marsh. 

I caught this picture as we were hiking south along that stretch. 

And then, as we left the marsh behind and started walking through the woods in sight of a row of houses up on the hill, we finally saw some beech trees. 

When I was in school, I got an undergraduate degree in forestry. That was where I cemented most of my tree-lore, learning about identification and care of trees and woodlands. I became intimately familiar with the types of trees that fill the typical 'mixed hardwood forest' in Wisconsin - oaks, maples, hickory, basswood, aspen, birch, cherry, ash, walnut, butternut, elm, locust and cottonwood among others. I learned how to identify those species up close and from a distance, in winter and summer. 

But over the decades since I received this education I had forgotten about the American Beech tree. I saw a description of mixed hardwood forests in Wisconsin and it included Beech trees, and I thought, 'Beech trees? Why don't I remember the beech tree?'

I wouldn't have known a beech tree if I stubbed my toe on one. Yet I remembered learning about them. So I looked them up. The leaf is non-descript, ovoid and pointed with no interesting lobes or venation. But the bark of the tree is unique in Wisconsin. It is smooth and grey, even in the very oldest specimens, and they stand out in the forest like elves among dwarves. 

I also learned that the American Beech tree does not populate the entirety of Wisconsin, but heavily favors the Fox valley and the Lake Michigan shoreline. The places where I spent my youth and much of my adulthood, in Madison, Minocqua, Wausau and Richland County, did not have beech trees. Perhaps I can be forgiven for forgetting about them.

All the same, I made it a point to keep my eyes open for them and when I saw one, one foot from the trail and bearing a yellow blaze, I stopped in my tracks to look around me and noticed that I was in the presence of not one, but a whole grove of beech trees. They were not the only trees there, but they were plentiful, and I think they are a beautiful tree. 

I had Theresa come back to admire one, and she also took delight in seeing it. 

When no one was looking, I gave it a hug. 

To add one more surprise, we had finally gotten to a place where there was paint on trees, rather than a string of 4x4 posts. That meant there were more blazes to follow, which I always appreciate. 

There is a boardwalk or two through here, indicating that the way might get wet in other seasons. Theresa noticed there had been burning going on in the past, either intentional or otherwise, and she was pausing along the way trying to puzzle out which area had been burned and how long ago. Unfortunately, I was feeling chilled and was impatient to get going. My boots were wet and I had on one layer too few, so she didn't get as much time as she wanted to investigate. 

Heading up and over this one hill on the section, we hiked back out of the woods and onto a field, which we crossed to find the waiting van, sitting next to this lonely box elder tree.

Here at the end we were delighted to see that the eagles were still hanging around. 

The snapshot of the eagles at sunset was taken at 5:50 pm. The sun was long gone behind the bluffs to the west, but there was still plenty of light to go by. 

We were tired and cold, but we were happy and a little amazed that we finished the whole Washington County part of the Milwaukee River Segment in one day, and both halves over the last two days. 

We look tired in this photo. We earned it. 

Location 2: The West Bend Segment between the parking area at the end of Wheat Ridge Lane and Washington Street

1.8 miles of trail covered

We picked up our other vehicle and made our way back to the hotel, which was getting closer with every hike. When we got there, Theresa asked me if I wanted her to drop me off at the Wheat Ridge Lane parking area so that I could walk the 1.8 miles back to the hotel, as she had done on Thursday afternoon when she arrived in West Bend. 

I had absolutely wanted to walk this section before the weekend was out, so I agreed, as long as I could go inside and put on some dry socks. 

The boots I was wearing today fit my feet better than the Keen shoes I've been using, if only because my feet have changes size over the years and my buying habits have not. But the boots had not been properly waterproofed for for too long, and the leather was squishy and cold. Putting on new socks would help for a while, but I knew that before I was done I would only end up with another pair of wet socks. 

I also needed to use a headlamp, because the half-hour between the end of our last hike and the start of this one had brought on total darkness. 

I started hiking at 6:30 pm. 

Here is Theresa's pic from two days earlier.

At first I had planned on walking with the headlamp off, instead relying on the ample moonlight to guide my way. I changed my mind on that within a tenth of a mile, when I encountered an intersection and couldn't figure out which way the trail went. After turning on the headlamp I discovered that there were not four paths leading away from this nexus point, but five. I came in on one of them, and this fifth leg, the one I hadn't even seen before I turned the light on, was the continuation of the trail. 

From that point forward, I left the light on.

I had every intention of hurrying through this section, just to get back to the hotel, but I found that I couldn't do it. Even at night it was too pretty. I was walking through a beautiful woods, next to a very much broadened portion of Silver creek, made fatter by the presence of a few dams. 

The river was frozen, and I could see that many people have been walking out on the surface. That would be insane to do alone, and even more insane to do at night. I stayed on the trail. 

Photos were challenging. With only a pool of light from the headlamp it was difficult to get any perspective on what I was seeing to show up on film. I did end up with a couple of pics, however. 

There was a really nice picnic table and shelter.

In this shot you can tell that the trail had been trampled over the last two days.

I stopped at one of several small dams, restricting water flow and creating ponds. There were logs and branches that had gotten stuck in the neck, so I spent time removing them. Doing so allows the water to flow more smoothly, and also gives fish a prayer of a chance to be able to make it upstream if they so choose. 

The water was clean, but had the brownish tinge of tannins. 

There was one spot along the way where there were two options for which way to go, and neither was marked. Taking my best guess I stayed to the right, doubling back the way I had come, and it turned out to be the right choice. 

I encountered no other hikers as I made my way through in the dark. When I came out onto North University Drive I could see yellow blazes on the electric poles, guiding me north. On the ice-covered sidewalk I was glad that I was still wearing my ice cleats, and I chuckled as I saw the variety of tracks left behind by cleats, spikes and YakTraks. There was a high percentage of well-prepared walkers on this sidewalk. 

At the end of the road I crossed the still-busy West Washington Street and made my way up to the Culver's parking lot, and then the extra tenth of a mile to the hotel. My hiking day came to an end at 7:30 pm. The temperature was down to 18 degrees, but thankfully the wind had died down a little bit. My toes were wrinkled and cold, but we had achieved great things so far this weekend. I was very happy.

Running Total: 951.2 miles of trail covered, 147.6 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 142.

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