Originally published April 18, 2016
Testing the limits can be good for a person, and that is what I did yesterday when I hiked the 7 mile Blackhawk Segment of the Ice Age Trail.
This was third day of hiking since Thursday, and I was a bit leg-weary to begin with. But it was too hard to pass up such gorgeous weather – 81 degrees at the trail head as I began my hike. Because of the relatively shorter distance and excellent trail conditions on this trek, I packed lighter and a little smarter. No heavy boots in my backpack this time around, and I only carried a small bag of trail mix for a snack instead of a full lunch. One new thing I tried was to wear gaitors over my pants. For those of you unfamiliar with them, gaitors are somewhat like leggings or chaps that are worn over the legs south of the knees. I first bought mine for cross-country skiing to keep snow from going up my pants and into my shoes. I decided to try them because I had to stop on my previous hike several times to take off my shoes, shake out pebbles and remove burrs and such from my socks. The experiment was a great success, and they will continue to be standard equipment for future hikes.
Although this segment was relatively short, there was a great variation in the geography.
After a short climb up some hills, the trail descended to Lake La Grange, a relatively small lake of the no wake-just fishing variety. I saw a boatload of guys on the water, which made me wonder where was the access point for launching a boat. There were no trees to speak of in this area, and I got very warm quickly.That being said, it was a very pleasant walk in this section – a flat trail of dirt and grass skirting marsh land bordering the lake. At the north end of the lake, I was struck by the remains of some major clear cutting. At one time there was a good-sized stand of trees, but now there was nothing but a lot of wood chips. This created a problem because the trail markers for the Ice Age Trail are usually fastened to trees. Where’s the trail? Fortunately, I guessed right and found the path to a nearby stand of trees to begin the section.
For the next mile plus of trail, I was hiking through what the guidebook described as “deciduous trees.” The country was extremely hilly, and I spent a lot of time going up and down ridges towering over huge, deep kettles. The hills definitely slowed my pace. No more of the three miles an hour clip. I ran into several people along the way – a man, his wife, a little droolpuss with two yellow labs, plus three other couples. But, I pretty much had the trail to myself. Eventually, I made my way to Duffin Road, roughly the midway point of my hike.
Once I crossed Dufflin Road, the country changed. Pine forests dominated, and the country was much flatter. Very pleasant hiking. It was here I learned a very important lesson. Don’t take those little side trips unless you are sure how far you’re going. I decided to take a loop off the trail to see a pioneer lime kiln. For those of you who, like me, didn’t know what a lime kiln does, it produces quicklime through the calcination of limestone(thank you, wikipedia). At any rate, I decided to follow the sign directing me to it, and I started walking. And walking. And walking. Where the hell is it? OK, if I don’t see it around the bend, I’ll turn back. Wait, it can’t be far; walk to the next bend, and see if you can spot it. It’s getting late. Don’t want to keep Jane waiting. Where the hell is it?!?
I gave up and turned back for the main trail. When I got to car, I checked, and it was a .6 of a mile walk to the kiln. Lesson learned: either make a copies of the applicable pages from the guidebook to carry with the map, or annotate the map. Better to be sure before taking that little side trip.
I made pretty good time after that. Made it to Bluff Road, the next point, in under a half hour. Made the following check point, County H, in no time flat. Home stretch time now. Cross County H, and it’s less than a half mile to the end. Piece of cake…
And then, I saw it as soon as I crossed the road. The Hill from Hell. Normally, I like to think of the home stretch as something to simply cruise. Not this time. The hill had to be 300+ feet up at a very steep grade. Multiple switchbacks added to the agony. No alternative, though. I laughed long and loud, and started trudging up the hill. Before too long, I was at the end of the trail.
The shower felt really good that night, and I slept like a rock.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 