Originally printed February 27, 2020.
After a long distance hike on Friday, February 21st, I was looking forward to Saturday’s 1.9 mile short hop on Tower Road in western Lincoln County. The distance involved was so short that I elected to do my first out-and-back hike, as opposed to having a trail angel shuttle me to my starting point and then walk from there to my hike’s end point.
Now, you might be thinking, “But, Jim, you’re doubling your time on the trail!” You’re right, but for this short distance, it was not much of an inconvenience. I know of other hikers that go through a lot more trouble than this when hiking. For example, there is a hiker who drives his car to an end point, parks it there, pulls out a bicycle and rides it to the starting point, chains the bike to the nearest tree, walks the trail, gets in his car and drives back to the starting point to pick up his bike. And he’s done this for the entire length of the trail. Trust me, it could be a lot worse.
My hike began at roughly 9:00. It was an incredibly beautiful morning – clear skies with temps in the high teens at the beginning of the hike, with the promise of a warmup into the high 30s or low 40s. Before starting, I gave some thought to really shedding a lot of the equipment I carried with me. In the end I decided to stick with what was in my backpack. The only change I made was putting microspikes on my shoes. They gave me a lot of confidence that I would be sure-footed on the snow-covered roads.
As I mentioned above, the country through which this road wound was incredibly beautiful. What added to the beauty was the utter silence. It was truly striking, so much so that I made a point of stopping just to quietly internalize it while doing the “out” portion of the walk. Once I turned around at the trail head for the Timberline Wilderness Segment, that stillness was shattered by the high pitched whine of snowmobiles in the distance.
This road connected two segments of trail, the Camp 27 and Timberline Wilderness Segments. I was curious if there was any evidence that these trails had been broken. In late January, I had made an attempt to snowshoe part of the Timberline Wilderness Segment. The trail was covered with 18-24 inches of snow, and after struggling for the length of about one city block, I gave up trying. Based on what I saw on Saturday’s hike, neither trail had been broken, and anybody attempting to do so would be facing a lot of work. Once I returned home, I reported my observation to the Thousand Mile Club Wannabees Facebook group.
Just like that, I was done and in my car headed home. Almost immediately I wondered if I left my walking sticks in a snow drift, and I edged gently to the side of the road to stop and check in my trunk. Quicker than I could react, my front right wheel sunk in deeper snow. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere – again. This had happened to me in the Medford area in late January. Since this is a G-rated journal, I won’t repeat what I screamed as I pounded my fists on the steering wheel. Fortunately, a Good Samaritan and his grandson happened by in a pickup truck, and he stopped to help. He had a length of cargo straps with him, and in no time at all, he pulled me out of my predicament. As luck would have it, I did leave my walking sticks where I ended the hike. After finding a safe place to turn around, I returned to pick up my walking sticks. Then I pointed my car for home, while saying a silent prayer of thanks for the help I received.
There is such a thing as Wisconsin Nice.
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 