Originally printed July 4, 2016
“Watch out, Honey!”
Too late. Jane had her camera up to her face and was backing into position to take the obligatory picture of me at the start of Sunday’s hike. As she was moving into place, I could see that she was edging toward a puddle of muddy water. Unfortunately, I didn’t call out to her in time, and her left leg went into the mess above her ankle. I should have known that it was an omen for more unpleasant surprises.
Don’t get me wrong, though. The day wasn’t a bust by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, the day was setting up to be pretty nice. Rather than hike in high heat and possible rain on Wednesday, Jane suggested I go on Sunday because the weather was predicted to be cooler and drier. And she was dead right. When I started my hike at 9:25, it was a beautiful, sunny day in the low 70s, with very low humidity in the air. I was eager to start on a 11.9 mile hike that was take me just under 5 hours to complete. Our plan after the hike was to meet our good friends, Phil and Mary Olsen, for a late lunch afterwards at a local eatery in West Bend.
The first 5 plus miles of my hike would be on a connecting route from the north edge of the Cedar Lakes Segment to the southern trail head of the West Bend Segment. While walking along Washington County Highway NN, I passed alternating patches of farmland and woods. A good deal of the woods was marked with signs for the Cedar Lakes Conservancy. I am extremely grateful for land trust organizations like this who help to preserve our wild spaces for all of us to use. The woods and farmland were set in a bit from the road, so I had no shade protecting me from the sun. I felt relatively safe walking this stretch of road because the weather made for excellent visibility and also because this road had good, wide shoulders that allowed me to get well off the road when I saw cars coming.
My first break was planned for the Cedar Lake Wayside at the junction of NN and Z. A small parking lot was there, plus an old style crank pump. I refilled my empty water bottle – I travel with two – and took a swig of water that tasted very rusty. Better to avoid drinking this stuff. I decided to keep it for pouring on my head to cool off, and started east on Z. The road here was much more narrow, and there was no shoulder to speak of, so I often found it necessary to peak around corners for cars before walking. The highlight of this section was hiking past Little Cedar Lake. Very picturesque, with mostly quaint cottages on the north side of the highway. Folks have to cross the road to get to their piers and boats on the lake side. The lake itself resembles a misshapen number 8 about a mile and a half long. Things seemed pretty quiet on the north side of the lake – just a couple of fisherman who appeared to be going for panfish. In the distance, I could see a boat towing a water skier.
Once past the lake, I tuned north onto Scenic Drive and said hello to my first big hill. Aside from the challenge of the steep upgrade, I was concerned because there was no shoulder whatsoever on this road. In addition, the patches of shade I would have normally welcomed were making it harder to see me. Luckily, I wear a luminous vest like road construction workers, so drivers could see me more easily and move away. After roughly a mile, I turned east onto Paradise Drive. This was truly beautiful country with many of the land forms that make the Kettle Moraine famous. Unfortunately, this was all private property, so I could only admire from the road. Very soon, I came to the southern trail head for the West Bend Segment, and I entered the trail.
This trail has a “3” rating for hilliness, and it let me know why very quickly. I found myself climbing up some very steep hills through woods of maple and beech. Whether I’m hiking on top of a ridge or on a trail that cuts into the side of a large esker, creating a kind of terraced effect, I have to marvel at the force of the glacier that that pushed the earth in such a way as to make these massive hills.
I was expecting to cross a road into Ridge Run County Park. I’m not sure how I missed the entrance, but I did. The trail descended to some marshland, and I traveled through it on a boardwalk. Ultimately, the boardwalk led me to Silver Creek above Lucas Lake. This was a gorgeous walk alongside ponds connected to one another by the creek. Very tranquil. I have to admit that I’ve grown to think of creeks as dead zones because of my experiences as a kid with places like Lincoln Creek in Milwaukee, where concrete slabs lined the sides of the creek, and with garbage of all kinds strewn about. I never saw a live fish in Lincoln Creek. Silver Creek was a long, long way from that experience. I could actually see fish swimming, especially near sunken logs. Just lovely.
Soon, I came to what I recognized to be Ridge Run County Park, but it was actually the north end of the park(I had unwittingly entered the park just before crossing into that boardwalk earlier.). There was parking lot just off an access road. A good-sized, covered picnic area and rest rooms were nearby. Coolest of all, in my view, was a covered structure built on a slab right next to the creek. Under this structure were two picnic tables. Families with young kids were sitting there and casting their lines into the creek. From what I could gather, this area was wheelchair accessible. Public access to fishing is pretty rare, so I was really glad to see this. I parked myself in the picnic area for a quick lunch.
It was after this that unpleasant surprise No. 1 occurred. I followed the trail north and east, where it emptied onto a street. But there was a branch that led back into woods, and it was marked with the bright yellow indicator for the Ice Age Trail. So, I followed it. It wasn’t going straight north like the map indicated, but I’ve experienced that kind of discrepancy before. The trail went along a pond, and then traveled around the base of a hill (Traveled AROUND. The clue phone’s ringing, Jim.). It was here that a doe bounded across the trail about ten yards in front of me. It ran to the top of the hill and seemed to follow me for a good 50-yards plus before leaving. It was so close that I could hear it snorting. Shortly after this I emerged back at the parking area and seriously wondering what the heck I had done to come full circle.
I hightailed it to the access road that led out of the park and onto University Drive. Walking north on University, I passed where the trail intersected – where I should have been in the first place. Continuing north, I came to Highway 33, the next big landmark on the hike. There was the entrance to the trail, and one door west was a Culvers.
The purist in me said hike on, and I actually started on the trail. But, when that trail passed right behind the Culvers, I said, “Who am I kidding?? I deserve this!” In I went for some well-deserved, cool comfort food.
The last portion of the trail was supposed to be 3.3 miles, but unpleasant surprises Nos. 2 and 3 added to that total. In this section are several county loop trails, plus some bike trails, and it isn’t marked as clearly as it ought to be. So, two more times I took a wrong turn, walked a bit, realized my mistake, and backtracked to correct myself. The trails themselves were beautiful and challenging, but I didn’t need the extra mileage and the frustration that came with it. I was elated to see Jane at trail’s end.
So, my 11.9 mile hike was probably better than 13 miles, and it took closer to six hours than five hours. Our late lunch with the Olsens turned into an early dinner. But, it was a beautiful walk, and the only thing injured was my ego.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 