Originally printed August 18, 2020.
Friday, August 14th, was my 100th day on the Ice Age Trail, and the last day of that week’s trip to Taylor County to do some biking and hiking.
On tap was a morning hike on the southern 6.6 miles of the Jerry Lake Segment. With no storms in the forecast, I was up much earlier than the day before to pack my car, check out, and drive to the parking lot at the south end of the segment. After a short bike ride, I reached the trail head WITHOUT ANY DIFFICULTY (YAY!). Just before I started my hike, a SUV pulled up. Two ladies and a gentleman got out. I think the ladies were going to hike the northern portion of the segment that I did the day before. The man appeared to be their shuttle. We compared notes briefly, and I set off just before 9:00. It was cloudy and in the low 60s. The temps were forecasted to climb into the low 80s with clear skies.
To me, the hike had three parts. Most of it was rolling country that wound its way through deep forest. I usually hiked on dry ground, but occasionally I was presented with “problem-solving” opportunities when I hit muddy spots. Sometimes getting across was a matter of stepping from rock to rock to cross an unnamed stream. At other times, I made my way across makeshift bridges of tree limbs left by other hikers, like this:
These could be iffy because the limbs sometimes were slippery, or they would shift in the slop when I stepped on them. There was one time when I encountered a muddy patch that was simply too big to finesse, and I simply had to tell myself ,”Jim, you’re going to get wet,” and stride forward into the mess, sinking a foot down into the morass in the process.
The slop factor could have been much worse if it wasn’t for the extensive network of boardwalks erected by IATA volunteers. I can’t recall how many boardwalks I used on this particular hike – four? six? more? – but there were many of them, and they weren’t mere 10 foot bridges over small creeks.
I cannot begin to guess the costs for materials, and the time and sweat equity involved. But one can’t walk on boardwalks like these without a silent thank you – and a check to the local IATA chapter – for the time and talent of the volunteers who make this network of trails a reality.
About two hours into the hike, I began a steep climb to the top of a ridge. It was there that I had my first look at the South Fork of the Yellow River. From the picture at the top of this note, you will see it was a spectacular vista. The trail led me along this ridge, and then it descended to the river’s level and crossed it on a solid bridge. Easily, this was the highlight of the day’s hike.
Immediately after crossing the river, I began another steep climb to the top of a ridge. At its top was a “Leopold Bench.”
These appear throughout the trail network. The original design is attributed to conservationist Aldo Leopold. According to the IATA Guide, he built and used the bench when he lived in central Wisconsin while writing “A Sand County Almanac.” The ammo box mounted on a post had been repurposed as a receptacle for hikers to register in a spiral notebook. Besides acting as a register, the box also contained a couple of nutrition bars still in their packages, making it a kind of food pantry. I rested there a bit, said a short prayer for the dedicatee whose nameplate was on the bench, and made my way back into deep woods.
Shortly after this, I had my first glimpse of Jerry Lake. It is 64 acres, most likely a no-wake lake. According to the DNR, it has a max depth of five feet, and is populated mostly by panfish and northern pike. I got the impression it was completely surrounded by marsh land. Along the way, I passed a camp site, so I knew I was nearing the end of my hike. For a brief distance, I emerged from the woods into open sunlight. I quickly appreciated that 99% of this hike was through deep woods – it was hot!
After a short walk, I reached the lot, got in my car and drove to pick up my bike. After that, I drove to the boat launch at Mondeaux Flowage. I quickly donned my swimming suit, made my way to the water’s edge, plunged into the water.
Why hadn’t I thought of this before?
My Days on the Ice Age Trail 