Originally printed October 28, 2017.
“This is arguably the most dramatic Ice Age Trail segment of all, exploring Wisconsin’s largest and most visited state park and offering magnificent views from 500-foot quartzite bluffs overlooking a 360-acre lake.” (From the Ice Age Trail Guidebook).
While I can’t speak for all the Ice Age trails, the Devil’s Lake Segment by far exceeded any of the segments I hiked on my previous 49 days on this trail!
Jane and I were up quite early Thursday. She was on her way to catch a flight to California to see her sister. After seeing her off, I was making the trip to hike arguably the most challenging trail in the Ice Age system – Devil’s Lake. The ride west to Madison and then north went quickly and smoothly. I met Debby, the trail angel, at the trail’s north access point, and she quickly shuttled me to the south access point. I grabbed my gear, said goodbye, and got started at 9:50 am. It was sunny, with only wisps of clouds. Low 50s. Perfect.
The first portion of the trail – less than two miles – was a peaceful hike through the open prairie and grassland of the Roznos Meadow. While it was a peaceful, mostly flat walk, the 360-degree views of the surrounding Baraboo Bluffs were very spectacular. My attention was drawn the the bluffs slightly in front of me. That was where I would start climbing. With the benefit of hindsight, I look back on this section of the trail as The Calm Before the Storm.
Soon, I crossed South Lake Road, and the country changed. No longer was I walking through flat, open country. Now I was in fairly dense woods and climbing very steeply. Fortunately, there were not many switchbacks to prolong the agony, and I soon reached the top of the bluff.
Breathtaking – that is the succinct description of the scene before me. Below me stretched deep woods in full, dazzling autumn color. In the past few weeks, there had been some discussion on weather forecasts bemoaning the lack of brilliance in this autumn’s colors. Well, I’m not sure about conditions before this hike, but colors were sure brilliant today. The trees below were at their peak. Beyond them, some of Baraboo’s cliffs rose in the distance. If I looked to the southeast, I could catch glimpses of the Wisconsin River and Lake Wisconsin. As I walked on the top, I was protected to a degree from the sun by some stands of oak and red cedar. Finally, I came to a place that was so beautiful that I simply had to stop, take a seat and slowly take it all in. My view is recorded in the picture above.
While I sat there, I munched on an apple and watched as an air show went on in front of me. A flock of pigeons would take off from rocks nearby and swoop and soar in front before returning to their perch at my left. After a short while and for no apparent reason, they’d take off and do it again.
All good things have to end, so I rose and continued east along the bluffs. The more east I walked, the more people I encountered. This made sense; most likely they entered the park proper and made their way to these bluffs. All ages, all sizes. I was surprised that none of them had walking sticks like me. No matter what trail they used, they had to do some climbing to get to these bluffs. I thought about this as I searched for my trail, the Balanced Rock Trail. If I had more carefully read the pages of the Guide that I had copied and stuffed in my pants pocket, I would not have been quite as surprised as I was when I saw what was the trail.
At first glance, it looked like some heavy equipment had dropped several loads of large, jagged rocks down a hill and called it a trail. Trees poked out of the rocks every now and then. Occasionally, I spotted some cement that had been laid to establish footings and to flatten the trail somewhat. Even though the conditions were dry, some of the rocks were slippery. I recall one rock with the word “slippery” actually written on it by a helpful hiker. There was signage, but it was somewhat sketchy. No guardrails to speak of. I checked my GPS program; yes, this was the trail. So, I started making my way down the slope very slowly, using my walking sticks extensively to help locate solid footholds and to lower myself from one rock to the next, all the while focusing on properly placing each step to avoid tripping. Falling here would transform me into a mess in seconds.
I experience a lot of emotions on the trail, most of them being derivatives of joy and wonder. This was the first time since my very first day on the trail that I felt something like fear. On that day I was hiking a segment called the Devil’s Staircase. Must be something about segments named after the evil one. About half way down the trail, I stopped to allow a couple to pass me. I followed them down the balance of the trail. Once we reached the valley floor, I joked with them that perhaps we ought to get down and kiss the ground in gratitude.
At this point, I was at a grassy park at the south end of the lake. Picnic tables were scattered on the shaded lawn which bordered a very nice beach. The concession stands were closed, but some rest room facilities were available. I decided to have my lunch, and I parked myself at a picnic table above the beach and enjoyed some hot soup I had brought with me. As I sat there, I looked back on the beautiful bluffs I had crossed and the difficult descent down the Balanced Rock Trail. Although my Guidebook had mentioned how strenuous and challenging this section of trail was, I was surprised that the signage didn’t warn people about it. After all, most of them didn’t have IATA Guidebooks. This is one section that should only be attempted in dry conditions, and people need to be very careful even then. My feet slipped a little bit on some rocks, and I was hiking in prime, dry conditions. I would never attempt the Balanced Rock Trail when it was wet, icy or snow-covered.
In the distance to my left loomed the west bluffs. I knew more climbing was on the menu. Because of the difficulty of the trail, I was hiking at a much slower pace than usual, and I began to wonder just how long I would be on the trail. With that, I saddled up and got moving. For a little less than a mile, I walked along a path and a road that skirted the lake’s south shore. The easy, flat trail gave me a chance to appreciate the beauty of the lake’s east bluff. After a short time, I crossed South Lake Road and immediately began the steep ascent up the west bluff from the south. Thankfully, this was not a repeat of the Balanced Rock Trail, but it was still very challenging. The grade was extremely steep with very few switchbacks. Probably to address erosion, lots of rocks were placed into the trail to form a rough stairway. This added a level of difficulty for me. The step heights were uneven, so I found myself using my hiking sticks to help me climb. Plus, I generally find it easier to walk up ramped surfaces than steps. My legs and lungs were really screaming from the exertion.
Finally, I made it to the top. The views of the opposite bluffs were spectacular, but I must confess that I didn’t take the time to really appreciate them. I was trying to make up for some of the lost time at Balanced Rock. Once again, I shared the trail with a lot of folks. I was impressed that so many little kids were making the trek with their parents and – in some cases – grandparents. I chuckled a bit to myself as I wondered who would be falling asleep first – the kids or the adults.
What goes up must come down, and after reaching the northern end of the west bluffs, I began to make my descent. While I wasn’t climbing down a pile of rocks, I was descending a rocky, uneven stairway. I was concerned about footing. Leaves were on the rocks, and sometimes they covered loose stones. Because of this, there were several times where my foot slid. Because of this, and because the stair heights were uneven, I found myself being very deliberate as I made my way down. Again, I was very grateful for the hiking sticks. They really helped me.
By this time I was really tired and sore. With all the climbing and descending I had been doing, my abs were engaged all the time, and I realized they were so sore that they were tender to the touch. This worried me, so I stopped along the north shore of the lake to do some slow stretches to loosen them up a bit. Then I continued along one of the park’s service roads. At this point I was at the north end of the lake, the main entrance to the state park and its campsites. I knew more raw trail would be coming shortly, so I used this service road as a chance to relax a bit – less hiking and more of what I would consider a leisurely stroll. As I often do when relaxing on the trail, I held both hiking stakes in my right hand as I ambled along. So, of course, it was now that my right foot rolled outward as it slipped on an unseen bit of rock. I lurched awkwardly to my right, and went down in a heap on perfectly level ground. All that difficult hiking, and I fall here???
Fortunately, the only thing that hurt was the knuckle on my right hand. Rather than let go of the hiking sticks, I instinctively gripped them more tightly as I went down and rapped them on the pavement as I hit the deck. Thank goodness; I could have easily broken a finger. I picked myself up, thanked my lucky stars and continued my hike.
I had mentioned that the north end of the lake is the main entrance to the State Park. There were a number of service drives and roads that honeycombed this area, and I was grateful for the Earthmate App on my phone for help guiding me through this area. The trail wound its way under a county highway and through two campgrounds to the north and east of the lake. This was the easiest hiking of the day. I was walking on soft earth or grass now. The trail was roughly six feet wide; later I learned that this was part of a cross country ski trail. For the first time that day, I walked through some beautiful areas of marsh country. This section through which I was hiking was the Johnson Moraine Loop. After about a mile and half I crossed the county highway I had gone under earlier and entered the Steinke Basin. After a roughly one mile hike through this wooded area I came to the end of the trail along WI 113. A short walk down the road was the parking area and my car.
I was expecting to be on the trail between four and five hours. I was actually out there five hours and forty minutes. Not bad, considering the level of difficulty. There was one order of business left. I had to check in for camping. Easily done. Now for the big question; would there be hot water for the showers? When I called earlier in the week, the person with whom I spoke could not confirm hot water would be available. I reached my camp site, got out my toilet kit, towel, wash cloth and fresh clothes. I made the short walk to the showers, opened the door to my shower room, and turned on the hot water.
YESSS!!!!!!
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 