Originally printed May 4, 2019.
The Dells of the Eau Claire and the Plover River Segments. 11.9 miles. Two walks along rivers. Two entirely different experiences.
What made the Dells of Eau Claire so unique, I learned, was its geology. For those readers who are out of earshot of the incessant Wisconsin Dells commercials, here is a definition for dells, courtesy of my Ice Age Trail Guidebook. A dell is “A gorge cut by torrents of meltwater or draining of glacier lakes.” Speaking of the Eau Claire Dells, the Guidebook goes on to say that, “The cascading river winds through a series of ledges and pools in the mylonite bedrock gorge formed thousands of years ago from the meltwater of the Green Bay Lobe. In addition, potholes carved up to five feet in diameter are found along the river.” Like every Wisconsin resident, I was familiar with the Wisconsin(River) Dells, and, as a little kid, my Dad took our family and the family of our Uncle Ned to see what I have come to believe were the Dells of the Wolf River. But, I had never heard of the Dells of the Eau Claire River until I read about it from fellow hikers and saw their spectacular pictures. Ever since, I have been chafing at the bit to do this hike, and this past Thursday was my chance.
I met today’s Trail Angel, Gail Piotrowski, at the hike’s end on County HH at about 7:45, and we chatted while she drove to the starting point. Unless we meet somewhere down the road, this will be the last time Gail shuttles me, and I will greatly miss her. Besides being one of the coordinators for the Central Moraines Chapter of the Ice Age Trail Alliance, she is a veritable font of knowledge about the IAT, as she proved in commenting about the geology behind some pictures I posted on Facebook. I swear she’s forgotten more than a lot of people know about the trail. Thank you for all your advice, and God bless you!
Simply put, this segment is breathtaking. It is only 2.6 miles long, and at least two miles of it wind through woods along the Eau Claire River. With the heavy rains in the area earlier this month, the short path to the river was muddy, but not a show stopper. After less than a half mile, I came to the river. The path sometimes took me right to the river’s edge. At other points, I was looking down at the river from a ridge high above. Because of snow melt and those recent rains, the river ran high and fast, and I was treated to quite a show of white water crashing against the rocks. The picture above shows the most spectacular part of the river, but there was a feast of sights and sounds all along my path.
Normally, a walk like this would take me roughly an hour. My walk took me close to twice as long because I kept stopping to take pictures or to simply gawk. In my defense, the trail contained a lot of slippery rocks and tree roots, which did force me to be more deliberate as a I walked up and down hills. Walking sticks helped me a lot. Challenging, but by no means daunting. There’s plenty of good parking at both ends of the trail – especially at the east end where there are covered picnic areas and bathrooms.
I would love to bring Jane here.
Between this segment and the start of the Plover River Segment was a connecting route, a 3.5 mile straight shot along Sportsman Drive with some moderate hills. The most interesting thing to me in this section was an animal footprint in a semi-muddy road. It looked like a dog’s but it was huge. A large dog? Something else? I suspect it was a dog, but it made me wonder. I took this flat section of my hike as lunch time, and I scarfed down a sandwich and an apple as I made my way east.
At just past 11:00, I started the Plover River Segment. Almost immediately, I crossed a bridge over the river itself. It was not particularly wide. The water was clear, and I could easily see to the sandy bottom. This was not the raging torrent like the Eau Claire River, although the river’s flow was at a good clip. According to my Guidebook, “The Plover River State Fishing Area includes hardwood and cedar forests, lowlands and spring ponds along the Plover River, a Class I, high quality trout stream that has a naturally sustaining trout population.” This segment certainly is all that, but it is also a very challenging hike.
Soon after my first encounter with the river, I began a gradual climb upon a high ridge alongside the river. Once I reached what seemed to be the top of the ridge, the trail rolled gently up and down as it wound its way through the forest. Every now and then I would stop and simply listen to the silence. I’m of the belief that our lives are filled with noises nearly constantly – birds singing, a radio blaring, trees rustling in the wind, and so on. This was different – absolute silence. It was incredibly, sublimely beautiful. Stunning. I wanted to stay still and simply revel in it. But, I had to get moving.
It was right about then that I flushed a large bird that was 20-30 feet above me in a tree. It didn’t strike me as the most graceful thing with wings, and it made a lot of racket, especially coming out of such silence. The racket made me think it was probably a turkey hen. I flushed a couple more before I descended down the ledge so I was at the same level as the river.
The river was 10-20 feet wide. On either side of it was a maze of moss-covered rocks, tufts of grass, and mud, all framed by an irregular latticework of tree roots. As Gail later said, it was primordial. I knew a river crossing was coming up soon, so I couldn’t veer away to drier ground. I was forced to slow down and work at really picking my foot placements carefully, planning just how to get from point A to point B, and carefully executing. I certainly didn’t want to be hasty, turn an ankle, and then fall into the muck! It was beautiful, but I guess I was more focused on the next step.
The guidebook referred to this area as a riparian zone. “The area of thick vegetation that runs along the bank of a river. Important to a watershed, they help maintain streams and rivers in their natural state. During heavy rains they help prevent flooding by slowing the flow of water both into the river and along the river banks. In addition, by acting as a buffer between the land and the water, chemicals such as fertilizers and pesticides which are applied to the land, are absorbed through many of the river area’s plant roots.”
Finally, I came to the stream crossing. My choices were (1) wade through the water or (2) walk across the 7-8 boulders forming a rough line across the river. I chose the latter and carefully made my way across without slipping and landing in the drink. I’m glad I did this when I did. I would hate to think of hiking this on a hot, humid day after the mosquito hatch!
Not too far from here I came to State Highway 52. A sign said I had 2.6 miles left. I soon met Jerry, an Ice Age Trail volunteer who was repairing a section of boardwalk that had been damaged by a falling tree. We had a nice chat about the trail. He made an interesting statement. He said you could walk this area’s trails in each of the four seasons, and the experience each time would be so unique that you would think you were walking a different trail each time. Interesting. But, I needed to get moving, so I wished him well, thanked him for what he was doing, and got moving.
As is usually the case, these last few miles seemed to take forever! The forest was very pretty in this area, and it wasn’t quite as hilly. But there were so many switchbacks that I didn’t feel I was making much progress. The ground wasn’t as muddy now that I had moved away from the river, but the tree roots and rocks made me keep my eyes focused on the 2-3 feet in front of me to avoid tripping. Finally, FINALLY I came to the end of the trail at County HH.
Although my hike was done, my day wasn’t. I made the drive to Stevens Point and checked in at the La Quinta at the edge of town. Usually, I think of La Quintas as basic – decent value for the cost, but tired and in need of updating. This particular location has had that updating. What a pleasant surprise! After a short nap, a shower and a meal, I decided on a whim to visit the fine arts center UW-Stevens Point. Lots of memories are tied up in this place. My son’s first music camp was here as a middle schooler. The High School State One Act Play Festival’s finals were here. My kids from Brookfield East made it here five of the nine years I taught. And, the Conservatory Choir I was in made the trip here with Present Music to perform a rather forgettable work by John Harbison. Oh well, the party on the bus back to Milwaukee was great!
Well, that night I lucked out. The University Wind Ensemble was presenting their Spring Concert, and I was able to watch them perform the last two pieces.
A great way to end a fulfilling day!
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 