Originally printed September 25, 2019.
Last Thursday, September 19th, I hiked a section of the Harrison Hills Segment, my first segment in Lincoln County. If this introduction to Lincoln County is an indication of things to come, the eight remaining segments in this county stand to be a feast for the eyes. Hopefully, they won’t be the source of unexpected surprise like the one I had on Thursday’s hike.
After a quick breakfast, I drove to the end point for today’s hike, which was roughly 2/3 of the trail’s length. The entire segment is 14.5 miles. While I’m capable of hiking that distance, I prefer to keep my hikes in the 10-12 mile range. Distances in that range usually result in me being on the trail 5-6 hours, and I tend to recover more quickly. Very shortly I met Ruby, my trail angel and the chapter coordinator for the Northwoods Chapter of the IATA. We chatted while she made the drive to the drop off point. I thanked her for her help, geared up, and got moving. It was 8:35 a.m., very cloudy and in the high 60s. The odds of rain were low. It looked to be a great day to be on the trail.
Immediately, I was walking through very deep woods. The overcast made the dense green canopy all the more dark and mysterious. The words “enchanted forest” kept going through my head, and I soon found myself thinking about my favorite composer, Gustav Mahler. Like me, he often went for walks in the Austrian forests, and his music was filled with their sounds. His music also expressed the mystery of the forest, embodied in the god Pan. Was this the kind of scene that prompted Mahler’s fear, the Pan-demonium, that made its way in pieces like his 3rd Symphony? As I hiked that morning, I could definitely appreciate the possibilities.
The more I hiked, the more I sensed a change in character compared to Langlade County. What jumped out to me first was the narrowness of the trial. Very often the trail was no more than a footpath. For the most part, I hiked on soft ground, leaves or pine needles – very easy on the joints. There was very little sharing of the trail with logging roads or ATV trails.
The trail wound its way up and down hills in a serpentine matter. Fortunately, the signage on this segment was excellent and easy to follow. Only once did I have to backtrack to pick up a turn that I had missed.
For all its good qualities, I found the going on this trail to be very slow, and I wondered why. As near as I could determine three things were at play. First, this trail had even more extreme ups and downs than Parrish Hills. The steep climbs had me sucking air. The extreme descents forced me to slow even more to avoid tripping, falling and rolling down a hill. Last, the winding nature of the trails in and of themselves slowed me down. Taken together, these forces made me put on the brakes and pick my steps very carefully. It was frustrating, but it was better for me to be safe than sorry.
Kettle lakes pockmarked nearly all of this trail’s length. While most of them were named, a good many of them were unnamed – sort of the lake equivalent of unincorporated towns. I admit freely to being a sucker for the beauty of lakes, and the combination of of the early onset of fall colors and the still waters made the scenery nothing short of breathtaking.
The serpentine trail continued to work its way along the Harrison Moraine. A little more than three miles into the hike, I arrived at an ATV parking area at County B with newly built pit toilet facilities. East of this point, the trail continued its upward climb, but now the upward slope was even steeper as the trail snaked its way to Lookout Mountain, the highest point on the IAT(1,920 feet) and the second highest point in Wisconsin. I needed a rest after my long climb, so I took off my pack and placed it on the grass along a fence. I also wanted to get some more insecticide on my face, so I took off my mosquito net, glasses and my hat to get that done. Finally, I noticed a bench a few feet away at a scenic overlook. It struck me as a good place to eat my lunch, so I grabbed my bag, hat and net and moved over there to enjoy my sandwich and a bit of a break. In 10 minutes, I geared up and continued my hike southwest down the other side side of the mountain.
As I carefully worked my way down the mountain, I drank in the scenery. Majestic, wooded vistas spread out before me. Closer to home, I walked past clusters of mushrooms of varying colors and shapes. After about an hour of clambering down the mountain, I lifted my mosquito netting to adjust my glasses.
No glasses on my face.
For a second, I didn’t believe it, and I brought my hand up to my face again.
What the…?
Then I remembered them sitting in the high grass next to my back pack. I quickly rewound my 10 minutes on the mountain, and I couldn’t remember putting them back on my face or in a pocket.
My God, I thought. I left them back on the mountaintop.
I won’t write what came out of my mouth then.
I quickly ran through my options. At this point, I didn’t want to take two hours for the round trip return to the mountaintop. I remembered buildings back on the top – a cell phone tower and an electrical transmission facility. And a service road. I quickly concocted a plan to finish the hike quickly and then call the Lincoln County Sheriff for help. Maybe they know where that service road could be accessed. If it was a private road, maybe they could give me safe passage so I wouldn’t get in trouble. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. If that wasn’t feasible , I would go back to County B and make the climb. I KNEW the round trip distance there. I didn’t know just how far it was to the end of the trail today. I quickly texted Jane to let her know what was going on. Then I started booking as fast as I could go, yet maintain control on the downhill runs.
I honestly couldn’t tell you much about the country through which I passed. I was focused solely on finishing the hike quickly and safely. There’s a lake on the left. Fine; keep moving. I’m crossing a footbridge. Great – keep moving. And so on and so on…
Eventually, I reached the trail’s end, and called the Sheriff. The good news was that they had a person on staff who specialized in all recreational matters. Trouble was, he was out on administrative leave. There was no one to help me.
What to do? Almost in answer, Jane called me. This is where leaving copies of maps with my trip plans paid off. Jane had been checking her copies of the maps, and she found a way to Lookout Mountain, or at least close to it. There was a gate marked on the road, but it was worth a shot. Maybe it would be open. Maybe there would be a guard there to whom I could explain my predicament. Worst case, maybe I could park my car at the gate and hustle a mile up the road to the top. Seeing as though it was a road for service vehicles, it was likely to be an easier climb than humping up a winding path for an hour, one way.
It was worth taking the chance.
In no time at all, I found the service road. It was gated shut, and a sign was there warning trespassers they were on camera. I didn’t care. A 40 minute round trip instead of two more hours on trail?
I’ll chance it.
The road was just what I expected, a two lane dirt road that rose to the top of the mountain. And there, a foot away from where I had left them, my glasses sat in the grass.
I put them on, thanked God for my good fortune, and contacted Jane.
Needless to say, I celebrated a lot that night!
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 