Originally printed March 24, 2018.
For a while there, I was wondering if Thursday’s hike would happen.
I have been battling sinus trouble for better than a month. I am on my second course of antibiotics, after Old Reliable – Doxycycline – didn’t do the trick. This new prescription has a list of possible side effects that point to G.I. trouble, even if one takes probiotics. And that was what I had to deal with on the ride out to Columbia County to start my hike. I had to pull into rest stops twice within an hour’s time. However, I scarfed down some probiotics at each stop, and I gradually improved so that I was comfortable with doing the hike.
Since I was moving into a new county – Marquette – on this hike, it was time to say goodbye to the trail angel for my last three hikes and say hello to my new trail angel, Gary. The chapter coordinator for the Marquette County chapter of the Ice Age Trail Association, Gary is a very nice retired gentleman who bills himself, among other things, as an Amateur Naturalist, Collector, Sandhill Crane Counter, Stargazer, Waterfowler, Sturgeon Spearer, Fisher, Bowman, Sand Man, 4-Her and Medical Missionary. He also was a hiker, but he had to stop due to a bad ankle. After a short ride, he dropped me off at my starting point near Governors Bend County Park. Before I got started, Gary pointed out an eastern blue bird sitting on a nearby fence. I had never seen this particular bird before, and I loved its distinctive blue coloring and the burnt orange breast. I hoped this would be a harbinger of a good hike. Gary and I quickly went over my plans for the next day’s hike. Then I quickly slipped on my pack, said goodbye, and got started at about 11:00. The temperature was in the high 30s with little, if any breeze. I was glad my stomach calmed down, because it was a gorgeous day to hike.
I was aware that Marquette County has had bear sightings in past years. While I wasn’t expecting to see a bear ambling down a county road toward me, learning that prompted me to make a purchase. I already had bear spray, and I pray that I never, ever have to use it. I’d much prefer an ounce of prevention. So today was the debut of – wait for it – my cowbell! Unlike the cowbells of “more cowbell” fame, mine had a clacker so that the bell would ring. I hung it from the belt of my pack, and it clanged away every time it hit my leg. Bears really don’t want to see me any more than I want to see them, so I thought that hearing the bell would cause a bear to hightail it off the trail before I could round the bend and come face to face with it. Sort of like belling the cat…er, hiker.
The first 3.3 miles of Thursday’s hike was on a road that, more or less, ran along the Fox River. At first, it was about 2/3 of a mile away from me, with a marshy flood plain acting as a kind of buffer. At other times, it was right alongside me. Regardless, it was a bird watcher’s paradise. I saw mourning doves, red-winged blackbirds, robins, bluejays, sandhill cranes, ducks, geese, and countless sparrows. In addition to the music of their songs, I could hear the persistent rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker busily rooting out some grubs for a meal. Where the river was close to me, little boat houses and trailers were alongside the road. One had a hilarious sign – “Parking for Elvis Fans Only. All others will be all shook up.”
After walking along the river, my route turned east along Grouse Drive and away from the river. After three plus miles of flat country, I encountered the first hills on this hike. Stands of hardwoods and pine trees stood sentinel on either side of the road. After a mile, I turned left onto 12th Avenue and hiked north a mile and a half. Homes and farms were on my left. At intervals on my right was the French Creek Wildlife area. It was there that I had the highlight of that day’s hike when an Amish person in a horse drawn covered buggy passed me headed south.
After one and a half miles on 12th Avenue, I turned left for a half mile and hiked to County F. At F, I turned north on the home stretch to the John Muir Park Segment. Normally, I stop at each intersection to text Jane with my location and when I was there, like “At Cty O and Cty F at 2:00.” (I do that format so Jane gets a fix on where I was and when. Sometimes I’m in a cell phone dead zone, and the message won’t be sent until sometime later.) I had just turned and was walking north when I heard the quick bleep of a siren behind me. I turned, and there was a Marquette County Sheriff cruiser right behind me. It had pulled across the road to the left side, right in back of me. At first I was confused. Why the bleep of the siren? Why pull over behind me and against traffic? Was I being pulled over, as it were? It turned out that the deputy had seen me texting and thought something might be wrong. In reality, it was a welfare call. No harm, no foul. I continued north on County F, and soon I came to the last section of the hike.
At the top of a rise, I turned right and entered John Muir Memorial County Park. As many people know, John Muir is considered the father of our National Parks system. What you may not know it that he lived in Wisconsin on the northeast side of Ennis Lake in Marquette County from 1849 to 1855, when he was 11 – 17 years old. According to a plaque on the park’s grounds, he never forgot this place, even though he traveled the world, and he tried several times to buy it, saying “…even if I should never see it again, the beauty of its lillies and orchids is so pressed into my mind I shall always enjoy looking back at them in imagination even across seas and continents and perhaps after I am dead.”
Believe it or not, I had a little trouble finding the actual trail, but my earth mate application helped me. The trail roughly hugs Ennis Lake (Yes, Marquette County was settled by the Irish) for 3/4 of its shoreline before turning north, crossing Gillette Drive and entering the Ice Age Trail Alliance Muir Preserve. It then cuts directly through a corn field to the trail’s northern terminus. I then walked .4 mile back to my car.
There were no lillies and orchids on Thursday, and I must admit that I was not as captivated by this area as was John Muir. To me, it seemed pretty boring. But, I had the sense I was walking in hallowed ground, so I gave the place its due respect.
When I finished, the temperature was in the high 40s. Having worn fleece lined pants, I was a little overheated, and I decided to wear lighter pants on the hike the next day. I drove north to Montello, grabbed a sandwich, and checked into the Hilltop Motel. A little tired on the outside, but the room was updated, clean, basic and very inexpensive. After a hot shower and a nap, I drove downtown to find a restaurant for supper. I settled on the Granite Falls Supper Club. I ordered a platter of fried perch with salad and desert. Good family cooking and friendly folks. Granite Falls. What’s the significance of that?
I guess I’ll learn that on Friday.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 