Originally printed June 9, 2019.
I like to learn things. But, this past Thursday and Friday, I learned a couple of lessons the hard way.
My plan was to hike three days in a row in Langlade County this past weekend – Kettlebowl on Thursday, Lumbercamp on Friday and Old Railroad on Saturday. I started my drive Thursday morning at about 8:00 so I could make it to the pickup point comfortably before noon. My phone was mounted on a bracket on my dashboard, and it connected to a charging adapter where my cigarette lighter would have been in ancient times. Just outside of Shawano, my phone cut out. It simply turned black. I pulled into a gas station parking lot to try to power it back up. No soap. There was no way I could hike without the cell phone, and there was no way to reach the trail angel (Are pay phones a thing? I haven’t seen one in years.). My only choice was to drive to the pickup point as quickly as I could – I arrived 15 minutes late – and explained the situation to Joe, the trail angel. I blurted that I would see him the next morning, and my plan was to hike what I originally planned to hike in two days, but now in one day only. This meant that, without any breaks and with hiking at a very rapid 2.5 miles per hour, I would be on the trail nearly 9 hours in summer heat,I thought.
That done, I headed for Antigo’s library to google the nearest T-Mobile store. I saw a Verizon store on the way into town, so I was hoping to luck out. If there was no store in Antigo, I was hopeful that one would be in Wausau, a little more than 30 miles away. My choices were Green Bay and Eau Claire. So, I went with the devil I knew and drove the 80-some miles to Green Bay. I reached the store and explained the situation to the sales associate. Of course, she popped the cover off the back, removed and reset the battery. Of course, it powered right up as if nothing at all was wrong. Apparently when they get hot enough, cell phones will sometimes simply shut down. One must simply wait for them to cool a bit before removing and reinserting the battery and rebooting. Now why didn’t I think of that; I am the one who retired from IBM? Why did I drive the equivalent to a Milwaukee-Chicago round trip for such a simple solution? AAAARG!!!!!
Well, it could have been much worse. The car could have been on the fritz. Or I could have been in physical trouble. All that I lost was time. Relax. With that, I returned to Antigo, had a wonderful Mexican dinner, and bedded down for the evening. After a good night’s sleep, I was up on Friday to meet Joe, the trail angel, at the end of my proposed 22 mile hike.
Joe wanted to talk with me about an alternative route. Rather than try to do two day’s hiking in one day, Joe suggested I walk only a portion of the segment, Lumber camp after completing Kettlebowl. The end result would mean the mileage total for the original three days’ hiking would be split closer to 50-50 over two days. It seemed very reasonable to me, and I called Jane to go over the change in the hiking plan with her. Then I got in my car to follow Joe to the new end point for today’s hike. Joe brought two gallons of water . Each was dropped off at spots along the trail so I could replenish my supply along the way.
Now, what Joe was doing was way beyond the call of duty. He spent a chunk of his Thursday evening planning a reroute of my trip which was a heck of a lot saner than my idea. He then anticipated my need for water resupply. The man is a prince!
Kettlebowl has a reputation for ruggedness, and it certainly lived up to that. I quickly learned that my major focus would be simply staying on the trail. I started out hiking on a logging path; as the hike progressed, my trail changed to a mere footpath, and then alternated between logging paths on footpaths through deep forest. My guidebook warned of multiple paths crossing the trail, and recommended bringing maps and a GPS. I had all that, but there were still times where I had to reverse my field and correct for choosing the wrong path when I came to the proverbial Fork in the Road.
One of the features I wanted to see were “frost pockets”. According to my guide, frost pocket is a local expression for “depressions with deep sloping slides.” The guide stated they were formed by “remnants of huge blocks of ice, which broke off from the ice sheet. The timber or tree line observed in the frost pockets is ‘inverted’…Because heavier, cooler air prevails at the lower elevations in the pocket, the lower levels are usually devoid of woody vegetation. “ Kind of the reverse of what you would expect to see regarding a mountain’s treeline. Because of warming, this phenomenon is not as pronounced as in the past, but it would have been interesting to see. Maybe some other time.
I finished Kettlebowl at a little past 2:00, roughly 5 hours to hike just under 10 miles. I had another roughly 8 miles to hike, but it was supposedly easier country than Kettlebowl. Still, 8 miles of trail hiking; I was looking at getting off the trail at 6:00 or later, barring any delays. A long day. Time to get moving. At first, things went smoothly. Signage was clear. While the terrain through the forest was hilly, I could handle it. Like with many other segments, there were a good number of tree roots and rocks in the trail, and I spent a lot of time with my eyes glued to the three or four feet in front of me. I came to a clearing where the path split in two. Odd, there was no signage at all. Usually there would be a sign with an arrow pointing the correct direction. Tried the right fork. Went about 100 yards and saw no signage, Back to that clearing, and this time I chose the left fork. Walked about 250 yards without any signage. Back to that clearing. What to do. For reasons I cannot explain, I decided to go with that left fork again. The trail bent to the right a bit ahead – maybe there’s signage right beyond that bend? Walked to the next bend. Nothing. Walked to the next bend. Still nothing. Part of me says stop and think this through, but my feet are moving faster. I check my phone app. I’m south of where I should be, and not by much. But it is not clear how to get there. Oh by the way, Jim, your phone’s battery is on fumes. I actually walk a bit in a tight circle while the realization hits me that I am lost. Then I stop walking.
Had it been earlier in the day, I would have stayed with it. Had I more battery life left in my phone, I would have stayed with it. But, I was very aware that it gets pretty dark in a forest long before dusk. Even if I had done what I should have done all along – go back to the last signage I had seen, even if that meant back tracking a couple of miles – I was running out of time. I lowered my pack and took out my GPS. I unlocked the SOS switch and pressed the button.
An “Are you sure you want to do this?” message came on. I pressed the button to say yes. A 15 second countdown began during which I could call it off. 3,2,1…
It was the right decision, but I felt defeated. Soon, my phone rang. It was the Garmin operator asking to confirm the emergency. Yes, I am in the woods and I am lost. No, I am not injured or sick. Yes, Jane Anello is my wife, please call her. The operator replied that he would contact local law enforcement, and they would contact me. I texted Jane. “I am OK. Just lost.”
Her reply? Shit!!
My last text to her – “I know I did the right thing, but I feel defeated and embarrassed. Need to get off the phone. Save battery.”
The Langlade Sheriff dispatcher called and requested that I call back using 911. They would be better able to really nail my location if I did that. Meanwhile, stay in place.
After what seemed a long while, I heard my name being called. I shouted back and started walking to the voice. Soon I saw an officer who I guess was in his late 20s to early 30s. He drove me to my car. Soon I was back in town, eating dinner, talking with Jane, and wondering how things got so messed up.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 