In the Wintertime

I was a big Steve Miller Band fan when I was in high school.  Songs like "The Joker" were popular at that time.  He was born in Milwaukee and attended the University of Wisconsin. He had another song, "Winter Time," that always sent a chill down my spine.

"In the winter time
When all the leaves are brown
And the wind blows so chill
And the birds have all flown for the summer
I'm callin', hear me callin', hear me callin'."

I had mixed feelings about winter as a kid living in the city.   We spent time outside, but not really in nature.  Winter in the city is different.  Entertainment often involved snowball fights.  Some of the bolder kids learned to loft snowballs towards passing cars or even at streetlights.  

One time, when I was in the eighth grade and on my way to school, a driver erroneously believed that we had thrown a snowball at his car.  He came careening around the corner, pulling across the center line to the curb, where I was standing with friends.  He rolled down the window and pointed a gun at us.  His girlfriend urged him to put the gun away, and he did, driving away.  We never said a word to anybody about that. 

In the country, winter is dead quiet.  I'll take Callie outside just before bedtime and listen to the sound of nothing.  If we're lucky, we hear an owl hooting or coyotes yipping in the distance.  

 In the prairie above the Lodi Marsh, the natural world opens up.  There are no distractions.

This is the last week of winter break.  Allie will be heading back to Milwaukee to begin her job hunt.  I've enjoyed her company and appreciate her willingness to care-give for Justin, while he's been home.

I turned 59 this past week.  We celebrated with a minced lamb dinner at my favorite new Middle Eastern restaurant in Sun Prairie.  When you're growing up, you never imagine yourself as 59 years old.  It kind of sneaks up on you.  

They say that you are as young as you feel.  Most days, I feel pretty young.  Callie helps.

Fall Hikes

This is the time of year that hiking becomes problematic on Wisconsin’s public lands.  It used to be that Wisconsin’s deer season started the week before Thanksgiving and ended the weekend after Thanksgiving.  Now, with all of the special hunts to reduce deer populations and chronic wasting disease, the chances of running into a hunter in mid-October through Christmas have greatly increased. When hunters with loaded weapons appear on the trails, it’s time for me to take my walks elsewhere.

Ice Age Trail: Cannery to Twin Pines

On Monday of this week, Callie and I hiked the Ice Age Trail segment from the Lodi Cannery to Twin Pines without any incident whatsoever.  It’s a beautiful time of year to hike: fall colors, comfortable temps, reduced mosquitoes, and fewer people on the trails, especially on weekdays.   We hiked Slack’s Hill on Tuesday and enjoyed similar conditions. On Wednesday, we went back to the Cannery segment.  Things had changed, and it wasn’t even deer hunters.

First, I should say that I don’t have any moral issues with hunters harvesting game within the rules.  I don’t hunt, but I’ve eaten game many times and helped to butcher farm  animals also.  Meat doesn’t come from a foam package covered with plastic wrap.  It comes from a living animal. Unfortunately, there are a lot of hunters that don’t play by the rules or are otherwise inconsiderate. 

Additionally, some of the rules make hunting a little bit more like gathering.
It was obvious when we came out on top of the hill that state-raised pheasants were just  released.  A couple of birds came across the trail right in front of us.  There was no great surprise when we saw a bird hunter ahead of us. 

Unfortunately, he was hunting right on the hiking trail with two unleashed dogs.  In Wisconsin, it’s illegal to hunt within 100 yards of the Ice Age Trail, but there’s little enforcement.  I suppose I could have made a citizen’s arrest or told him that he was breaking the law, but he had a loaded gun.  So there’s that.

The hunter’s back was to us.  He was trudging along with his gun without any idea that we were coming up behind him.  I stopped about 100 feet away (Callie on leash), and waited for him to notice us and leash his dogs.  My plan was to go around and past him, continuing our hike. As you might expect, his dogs were the ones to eventually notice us.  They both started running at Callie.  The hunter didn’t move but started swearing at the top of his lungs.  When one of the dogs got within 20 feet, I picked up Callie (who wanted to “kill, kill, kill”, despite the other dogs being twice her size).

I yelled, “Go home,” The dogs looked at me questioningly.  I yelled “Go home” again,  and they turned around.  When the dogs made their way back to the hunter, he made no effort to leash his dogs, but continued to walk slowly down the middle of the Ice Age Trail, gun on his shoulder.  I turned around and headed home.  It was time to leave that public property until after Christmas. Hiker-friendly laws aren’t much good when ignored by hunters.

 

 Devil’s Lake State Park

On Thursday, Julia took the morning off and we got up very early to take the ferry across the Wisconsin River.

The sun was just starting to come up when we started up the east cliff trail. There was no one else on the trail, except for a lone photographer snapping photos of the sun hitting the west cliffs.  The lake was so beautiful.  We then hiked up and down the west cliff trail.

 

Playing with Wood

Between hikes, I’ve been making progress with the firewood pile.  I identified several fallen trees in my woods to cut up.  Because I live on a hill, the rounds get thrown down the hill, loaded into my truck and taken to the processing area.  Here, the wood is hand split with a maul and then stacked.
This year’s wood is stacked on pallets in my pole barn (5 full cords).  Next year’s wood is off to the left in the photo.  I need to get to work on the spaces on the right.  Split hardwood benefits from two or three years of aging in stacks to get the moisture levels down below 20%, which is optimal for wood stoves.  Typically, I heat with wood full time from October to April.  The furnace only goes on if we’re out of town overnight.

Day Hike: Roche-A-Cri State Park

Julia has most Fridays off work, so we try to do something special together on the first day of her weekend.  Today, we were off to Roche-A-Cri State Park, located located about 30 minutes north of Wisconsin Dells.  While I’ve been to most of our state parks, we’ve never been to this one for some reason.  We were scouting it out for a possible camping trip and looking for a place to hike some new trails.

The main trail in the park is the Acorn Trail (3.5 miles).  Most of it is flat and travels through second growth forest.  At one point, there were some huge white pines that looked like virgin growth.  We added about another mile on Turkey Vulture Trail (beautiful restored prairie).  During most of the hike, temperatures were in the lower 70’s with light rain.

The highlight of the hike was the mound, which requires 333 steps to climb.  The trail to the mound and the area around the trailhead is not dog-friendly.  I counted at least 6 signs within 50 yards making sure that you knew man’s best friend was not permitted in this area.  I ended up waiting at the bottom with Callie (dangerous outlaws ready to make a getaway in the event a ranger thought Callie was too close to one of the signs), while Julia climbed to the top.

After our hike was finished, I went back alone and hiked up while Julia and Callie spent time in the truck.  I completely understand the need for dogs to be leashed and fines for people who don’t pick up after their pets on a well-traveled trail, but a ban?  It’s one reason not to return.  People are capable of a lot more damage than dogs. The other reason that I wouldn’t camp here is the significant road noise in the campground from nearby Hwy13. Otherwise, the campground was lovely with well-spaced sites.

At this point, Julia felt that a lunch and locally-brewed beer was necessary.  I was not going to disagree.  We drove to the Dells for a light lunch at the Riverwalk Pub and then took a short walk along the river. Wisconsin Dells is a great place for water parks, go-cart tracks, and Ripleys Believe It or Not, but you have to search out the natural beauty.

We then headed over to Port Huron Brewing Company for a tasting flight of beers to share.  After trying the hefeweisen, amber, pale ale, ipa, and porter, we brought home a growler of the Twelve Bottom IPA for future consumption.

We finished the day with a nice nap before grilling some fish for dinner.  The yard work would have to wait another day.

Rutherford Beach

I stayed at Rutherford Beach near Creole, Louisiana from Friday until Tuesday. There was a lot to like about Rutherford Beach: free, weekly maintained dumpster and porta-potty, covered pavilion with picnic tables and charcoal grills, Cameron County Sheriff beach patrols, and miles of beach to walk.

As per my custom, Callie and I took long walks early in the morning (5-7 miles), read and lounged in the afternoon, and went to bed at sunset. Most days, I was able to use my solar panel to recharge and top off my battery during the afternoon. We celebrated the end of light each day with a couple of IPA’s, my Kindle, and some Netflix.

We did have a couple of bad things happen. Callie was attacked by an off-leash pit bull. Of course, she didn’t back down to the much bigger dog, and I ended up picking her up and holding her above my chest to keep the dogs from fighting. The pit bull kept spinning around me trying to bite Callie.  The pit bull's owner  was unable to get his dog under control by voice or attaching the leash. While carrying Callie, I walked over to their RV where the middle-aged daughter was able to leash the pit bull. We emerged relatively unscathed except for a long scratch on my leg from the pit bull jumping on me to get at Callie. Julia said that I shouldn’t have wasted good bourbon to clean the scratch, but it was closer than my first aid kit.

The other bad thing that happened is my laptop went on the fritz. It wouldn’t power up at all. When I gave it a rest and it did power up, the touch pad no longer worked. I couldn’t blog or do anything else. On a rainy afternoon, I drove up to Walmart and bought a cheap usb mouse, which did work with the laptop. Then today, when I turned on the laptop, the touchpad began working again. Oh, well.

Walking on the beach, I was struck by the struggle of life and death on the gulf. The life isn’t always easy to see, but death tends to show itself on what washes ashore. This sea turtle was covered with flies. I can only hope that it died from old age. I didn’t see any evidence of injury or trauma.

After the dog attack, it was time to move on to the Texas gulf.

Louisiana Gulf

Today,  I had a bit more excitement during the travel day that I would have liked.  The drive to the gulf from Indian Creek was only about two hours.  About half-way there,google maps sent me down a road that was not a major highway (short cut).  Unfortunately, there was high water on the road, and a waiting deputy sheriff advised that I go back. 

Now, if I was in a car, that would be no problem to turn around.However, there was water on both high water on both sides of the road, and turning around the Scamp just wasn’t possible.  I needed to back up about a mile to get to a spot to turn around.  Fortunately, there was no traffic or people to laugh at my long distance backing.

Even on the major highways, there was high water on both sides, but the road itself was dry.

We made a big circle around the flooded roads and eventually made it to the free beach. The weather was cloudy, but it was comfortable for beach walking.  The second adventure came when I decided to let Callie off-leash.  She has always stayed close to me at home, but we aren’t home.  Callie decided that it would be fun to play keep-away from me and would jump away every time I got close enough to try to put the leash back on her.

Eventually, and fortunately, she had to stop for number two, and I swooped in and attached the leash.  Callie let me know that she didn’t think that was fair, but at that point, all was fair.  We had a nice afternoon of sitting outside the Scamp. I read a book and drank a Lagunitas IPA, while Callie captured flies in the air and ate them.

It’s raining again, which projects to be a frequent occurrence over the next week.  No matter, I can hear the waves and see the gulf out my back window.  We’re going to hang here for a few days unless something changes.

New Canine Companion

Towards the end of October, my son Justin called and said, “Dad, I want Elvis back.”  This summer, Justin decided to go to his summer transition semester without Elvis.  He made the same decision about the fall semester.  Clearly, however, he began missing Elvis.  Many of the students at Justin’s college go home on the weekends, and Elvis is a great compa-nion.  Plus, as a service dog, he can do some handy stuff for someone in a power wheelchair. Picking things up and delivering them is Elvis’ specialty.

So, of course, I said, “yes, when were you thinking?”  Justin replied, “Now, or asap.”  Julia, Elvis and I were in Utah, so “now” wasn’t practical.  However, I delivered Elvis back to his boy right after I returned from my trip out West.  Elvis has been with Justin ever since. Our concerns about Elvis fitting in at college and having Justin’s caregivers do the daily doggie chores have so far been misplaced.   That isn’t to say there won’t be challenges.  Justin managed to break his leg during the fall semester (fell out of his power wheelchair), and had one other trip in the middle of the night by ambulance.  Still, within the limitations of a young adult with Duchenne’s muscular dystrophy, Justin seems to be  managing things. He and Elvis will return home for a month at semester break. My daughter Allie will take over his caregiving responsibilities to earn a few extra bucks for a car that she is saving up for.

With Julia at work, the kids at college,and no dog at home, the empty nest has been too quiet, even for an introvert and silence-lover like myself.  I’ve been on the hunt for a new dog to hike and sit by the fire with.  Julia requested a smaller dog this time and a female.  She also didn’t want a purebred or a puppy and preferred a rescue or humane society dog.  Some of those criteria would not have been mine, but I could live with those guidelines.  This week, we narrowed the search down to Callie, a mix of Blue Heeler and Border Collie, sometimes referred to as a Border Heeler.

Callie was found as a stray in Indiana, spent some time in an Indiana shelter, and was rescued by a dog trainer in Wisconsin with Indiana connections.  She comes to us with basic skills and a sweet disposition.  I think she’ll fit right in.

Callie is about a year old, loves to hike, and was looking for a forever home.  Seems like a perfect match.

Pipe Spring National Monument

I have never been so interested and depressed about a national monument.

I am camped at a nice rv park owned and operated by the Kaibob Band of Paiute Indians. I was running out of coffee, so it was time for electricity hookups to roast coffee, and to take the opportunity to do laundry, shower, etc.  I’ve discovered that rv parks in the west are parking lots, but some are better than others.

This one distinguishes itself by the lack of lights in the campground, which I appreciate greatly, making for better sleeping at night. Of course, the absence of lights did not help when someone activated their vehicle alarm at 1:30 a.m.

As at most national parks and monuments, dogs are not allowed on the trails at Pipe Spring National Monument. Elvis appreciated the nice footpath going out to the convenience store in one direction and  to the Head Start school building in the other direction.

After duly exercising Elvis, I let him nap in the Brew Hut while I checked out the National Monument, took a tour, and hiked the short trail.  Everything about Pipe Spring is about the water.  I talked to a local Paiute in the gift shop, and she told me that her people had lived in this area since the days of the mammoth.  They were a nomadic people, and moved from place to place, putting little strain on the natural resources.

Then the Mormons came in the 1800’s, and decided that the spring made a perfect place for a cattle operation.  The native rice grass produced flour and sustenance for Paiutes for hundreds of years. The Mormons and their cattle destroyed the native grasses in little more than ten years, according to our ranger guide.

The Mormons produced cheese and butter in great quantities and built a fort around the spring, preventing access to the Paiutes unless they converted to Mormonism or worked like slaves in support of the Mormon operation.

This did not go over well. The Paiutes resisted, driving off the Mormons livestock.  The Mormons formed a militia.  Lives were lost on both sides.  The Paiute’ population was decimated by starvation. After about forty years of overgrazing, the Mormons abandoned the property. Today, about 300 Kaibob Paiutes live in the area.  However, this isn’t the end of the story; the tragedy is still unfolding.  Agricultural and development interests continue to tap the aquifer.  A  hydrologist informed the Park Service that the spring will soon go dry.  The aquifer has maybe 20-30 years left before it’s gone.  Then the farmers, park service, developers, and Paiutes will all be up the dry aquifer without a paddle.

Elvis and I enjoyed a colorful sunrise before the rain clouds moved in.

It’s raining as I write, and more rain is predicted tomorrow when I leave this area and continue to head west.  I would like to disperse camp near Hurricane or Virgin, but we will see what the access roads look like.

Lizard, Snake and Wet Feet, Oh My

My campsite at Sandy Flat has been amazing, but like anything else, positives and negatives are part of life.  It’s been really hot with temperatures around 90 (and warmer in the Brew Hut) until about 7 p.m when it finally starts to cool down. Last night, it only cooled to 74, which was comfortable sleeping weather with just a sheet, but warmer than I’ve experienced for most of this trip.

Hiking is not ideal at Sandy Flats.  While there are many trails for bikes and atv’s hiking consisted of jumping up on the rock and following it to see where it goes.  Today, I stopped in at the Forest Service and Park’s information Center and asked for dog-friendly hikes.  The gentlemen immediately gave me a brochure with several choices but recommended Grandstaff Trailhead for today’s hot weather, based upon the gentle ascent through the canyon and the ample supply of water for Elvis in the creek at the bottom of the canyon.  That was a great recommendation.

Elvis and I hiked about 6.5 miles round trip.  We aren’t sure if we made it to the end because the trail just seemed to vanish in an area of hard flat rock, but we got lost a few times so we figure we made up for the lost mileage if we didn’t make it to the conclusion.
 

The title photo for the hike shows one of the dozen of lizards that we saw crossing the trail.  Elvis was curious about the first couple, but then lost interest.
The snake caught my attention. It didn’t have any rattles.  There were several people around who had checked their guidebooks and couldn’t identify it.  I just knew it was big.

Most of the the hike consisted of crossing the stream dozens of times, which gave Elvis lots of opportunities to drink and cool off.  I kept my feet dry for the trip out, but managed to give myself wet feet on the way back. By noon, the temperatures were hot enough that I didn’t really care about wet feet.  Lots of dogs were off-leashed, some well-behaved, some not.  Elvis received one nip and one pretty good bite on the shoulder from a pit bull.  It didn’t break the skin, but I could see the slobbery indentation.   The owners seemed embarrassed, but not enough to put their dog on a leash.

We are going to lay low this afternoon with cold drinks and do some research about where to go tomorrow. Probably south or west.

Devil’s Tower

Last night at Wyatt’s Hideaway, after stopping for groceries in Belle Fourche, I retrieved my cast iron skillet, seasoned my steak with freshly purchased salt and pepper (how could I have forgotten that?), and cooked up the meat medium rare. After supper, I had a big bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough and then sat outside in my chair, sipping an IPA, as temperatures cooled into the evening.

These are some of the luxuries that I never enjoyed on my Appalachian Trail thru-hike, made possible by Scamp Manufacturing (a/k/a the Brew Hut).

Empowered by wi-fi at Wyatt’s, I caught up on the news, blogs, and email. The days are getting shorter. By 8:00, it was dark out, and by 8:30, I was asleep. Several times during the night, I awoke to the sounds of trucks passing close by on the highway. I realized that the weather is also starting to change. Last night was the first time that I actually got cold enough to wrap up under the heavy double sleeping bag.

By 4:15 a.m, I was pretty much wide awake. I tossed and turned for an hour, gave up, and fed Elvis, who was only too happy to get an early breakfast. By 7:15, I had eaten breakfast, used the luxurious bathrooms, hitched up, and dumped by gray (sink and shower) and black (toilet) tanks. I gave Julia a call and then was on the road by 7:30 a.m.

My initial plan was to visit Devil’s Tower National Monument on the eastern edge of Wyoming and continue across the state to Buffalo, Wyoming for a camping spot nearby. However, Devil’s Tower was much more spectacular than I was expecting. Also, even though it was only about 8:30 a.m., people had started leaving the full campground, and there was a beautiful campsite on Loop A (the no generators loop), which looked directly at Devil’s Tower. I snagged the site, paid by $20 and went to see about the trails.

Stymied again. No dogs allowed on the trails. The sign suggested walking your dog in the campground, limited picnic area, or on a dirt road with no directions to get there. The sign also said that dogs were no allowed more than 15 feet off the road. Okay, we would improvise. Elvis and I walked about a mile and a half from the campground towards the visitor’s center. We had to dodge a few buses, motor homes, and large campers, but we made it to the dirt road that I believe they were taking about. It was definitely a challenging walk, but still fairly cool out.

During the afternoon, the temperatures climbed to 90 and higher than that inside the Brew Hut. We had a couple of shade trees at the campsite, and we moved our hanging out shady spot to match the sun’s progress across the sky. I read and blogged. Elvis slept.

After Wyatt’s, I  appreciated the quiet of nature again. The wind and the rustling of leaves. And there might be a bit of ice cream left in the freezer.  I will be headed west next.