Originally published April 16, 2016
Three segments hiked, back-to-back-to-back. Three entirely different geographies. That was yesterday’s 11.1 mile hike on the Ice Age Trail.
Yesterday was a bit of a first. Previously, Jane has driven me to my starting point. Then, she would find a place to relax, read, knit or do what-have-you while I hiked, and then pick me up at the end point for that particular day. But, this weekend I was hiking two days, and I didn’t want to put her through schlepping me through southern Wisconsin twice. What to do?
The Ice Age Trail Alliance is the wonderful support organization for the trail and those who use it. They are responsible for upkeep and repair of the land, including getting work permits and constructing bridges and walkways over swampy areas. In addition, certain members of the Alliance have assumed the role of “segment coordinators” for each county through which the trail runs. They are resources I can contact for trail conditions and such, and, if the scheduling works, they will actually pick up hikers at the end of a segment and drive them to the start of their hike. Andy Whitney, a retired foundry worker, met me at 9:30 am at the projected end of my hike, a lot off Highway 12 overlooking Whitewater. While driving me to my starting point, he described what other “trail angels” have done for hikers, including allowing them to camp in their yards, and even putting them up in their homes overnight. Andy wanted no money for driving me, but he accepted the donation in his name that I made to the Alliance.
According to the Alliance’s guidebook, the Clover Valley segment is a 1.6 mile “short and quiet segment crossing the Clover Valley State Wildlife Area.” I had been warned that the trail was soggy for recent rains, and that was certainly the case. There were several significant stretches of standing water that were deeper than my ankles. I had packed heavy boots, and I probably should have put them on as soon as I saw the first small lake in my path. But, I chose instead to tip-toe on tree branches and logs that skirted the ponding, grabbing nearby saplings for support. It worked, but I was very lucky. I just as easily could’ve fallen off one of those logs, hurt myself, and gotten more of me wet than just my feet.
Outside of this swampy stretch, which ran for half to three quarters of a mile, the segment was flat prairie with a lot of brown scrub grass. I didn’t see much wildlife, except for a muskrat I spotted along Spring Brook. This was surprising to me; I thought sure this would be a bird watcher’s paradise. Maybe this area would be more attractive later in the season once things greened up and flowers had bloomed. But, to me this was the most unimpressive of the segments I’ve hiked, and I was glad to turn east on Island Road and start the 4.6 mile trek on the connecting road to the Whitewater segment.
The connecting route was on county roads through farm country. The Alliance is smart to plan the connecting routes along such roads. Short of having dedicated sidewalks, they are about as safe as can be for pedestrians. I settled in to a good walking pace on the left side of the road facing traffic, and I was serenaded by birds and frogs as the miles passed by. Near the end of the connecting route, I stopped at a well that was marked “Flowing Water” on my map. It was originally dug to a depth of 55 feet in 1895, and it has been flowing ever since. A pipe with a t-shaped end was sticking out of the end of the well so that multiple people could access the well , and I watched as a lady filled several large plastic jugs with cool, sweet-tasting water. After swigging some down myself, I continued about a half mile to the western trail head for the 4.1 mile Whitewater Lake Segment.
After the relative flatness and lack of trees of the Clover Valley Segment and the connecting route, the hilliness and forests of the Whitewater segment was a welcome change. I so wish I could share the pictures I took with my friends, but the SD card on my phone became corrupted, and I had to reformat it to fix things. All my photos were lost. To get an idea of the country, I recommend Googling “Ice Age Trail Whitewater Lake Segment.” You will see the same country I did, although trees in the pictures will be much greener than what I saw yesterday (Full disclosure; the photo at the head of this post is one of those images. It is a scenic overlook facing Rice Lake and Whitewater Lake.). Lots of hills and lots of switchbacks ran though forests of oak trees and rows of pines that made me think I was walking through a cathedral instead of a forest. The trail skirts a number of camp grounds, and I stopped at a picnic table to have the lunch I packed and to put up my feet for a bit. As I continued, I noticed lots of blue and purple wildflowers along my path. It was hard not to notice them, as I had to keep my head down while walking to avoid tripping on tree roots and the many boulders and rocks that pushed their way through the ground. Because of these obstacles, I decided the best course was to be as methodical walking as possible. Look at the ground immediately in front of me and be as form-conscious as possible while walking, and stop to look around and swig down some water. That seemed the best way to avoid falling and splattering myself on the trail, especially as I was getting more tired. It took me longer to hike this trail than I expected, but it was easily the most challenging country I’ve encountered on my hikes so far.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s hike on the next segment, the seven mile Blackhawk Segment.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 