Closed

Sunrise from our Hill

My favorite local places to hike are:  Gibraltar Rock (less than ten miles away) and Devil's Lake (less than thirty miles away by way of the Merrimac Ferry).

Yesterday, Governor Evers closed those two locations, along with dozens of other state parks and state natural areas in southern Wisconsin.  This was not unexpected.  State public lands have been flooded with people seeking outdoor opportunities but who were not practicing social distancing.  In fact, the record crowds of people, together with closed bathrooms, limited garbage service and no added staffing, resulted in increased vandalism and litter.

I've been staying away because it was all too predictable, given human nature.  The Lodi Marsh remains open, as far as I know.  We've been hiking there about once per week early on weekday mornings to avoid crowds.

Lodi Marsh

Unfortunately, Callie has had a couple of hostile encounters with other dogs there.  One was an off-leash pit bull that the owner had no control over, even after we walked fifty feet off the trail to avoid it.  Another was an on-leash bigger dog that its owner wasn't able to control.  The dog literally dragged her owner 30 yards to get into Callie's face.  Callie's behavior has improved dramatically since she joined our family, but she doesn't tolerate other dogs in her face.

Australian cattle dogs are part Australian dingo, and she seems to have received more than her fair share of that part.  Sometimes, I think Callie must be swearing at the other dogs in dog language.  She definitely brings out the worst in other dogs.  The only dog that she tolerates is Elvis the service dog.  Callie seems to think that Elvis is a docile cow tied to Justin's power wheelchair. 


The best place to walk has turned out to be on the country roads east of my house.   The old dairy farm roads are almost always empty of traffic and people. 

After a five mile walk in the morning, we work on the firewood project in the afternoon.  This involves cutting down dead trees, bucking the downed trees into rounds, and rolling the rounds down the hill (we call it firewood bowling).

Then we pile the rounds into the splitting pile, split the rounds into firewood, and stack the firewood  on pallets.  Each year, we move seasoned firewood (1-3 years old, dependent on species) from the outside storage area into the pole shed for the coming winter.

There's still plenty of work to do outside while social distancing. With temperatures in the 20's and 30's for the next 7 days, we will still be burning last winter's firewood to keep the house toasty.

Active Winter

We had a very slow start to the winter–hardly any snow or cold through the end of 2018.  January and February have been a different story.  We’ve had more than our share of snow, cold, and freezing rain.  The snowbanks on the long, steep driveway are too high for my atv snowblade to be effective.  No matter, I can’t use the atv anyway because there’s glare ice on the steepest part of the driveway up by the pole shed.  I had trouble getting uphill even in four-wheel drive, and I had trouble maintaining control  going downhill (where 4 wheel drive becomes 4 wheel slide).

People in warmer climates probably wonder how we survive.  In fact, many people thrive.  Recently, we had 50 mph winds to go with the icy roads which weren’t responding to salt application because it was too cold.  Julia and I went snowshoeing across from the Lodi Marsh.

We then celebrated our stroll in the woods with a Wisconsin tradition:  drinking beer.  Sun Prairie, a growing community just outside Madison, recently saw the opening of two new brewpubs.  The first one was called Right Bauer and is definitely the only euchre-themed brewpub that I’ve ever been in.  On Thursdays, the owner’s dad presides over Euchre night, which is open to players of all abilities.  We got on the email list and will definitely be back.  The beer was very good.  I also appreciate it when a brewpub isn’t afraid to have guest taps from its competitors.  To me, that shows confidence.  In this case, the confidence was well-earned.

Next, we walked around the corner to the other place, Full Mile Beer Company. This place was packed with people. We snagged two of the last seats and sat back to enjoy wood-fired pizza and some of their beer.  Unfortunately, my pizza’s sauce was bland and a little too thick for my taste.  My Vienna pilsner placed its emphasis on crispness rather than malt. It was well-executed; I just prefer a maltier Vienna.  Julia’s beer, which was a milkshake IPA, was very good.  We’ll be back to give them another chance and perhaps try some different things.

Today, Callie and I went snowshoeing at Gibraltar Rock.  It was a beautiful winter day.  There were a lot of branches down–probably from the recent high winds.  One large branch in particular blocked the trail and created some acrobatic moments as I went down the steep hillside with Callie and then back up to avoid the tangle.  The views at the top were amazing.

By the time I finished the second long uphill in the loop, I had my coat open, gloves off, and hat off.  It’s only cold when you’re not moving.  By the way, the fox in the header photo was walking along the rock wall in our back yard and following rabbit tracks.

Snowshoe Time

We’ve had a mostly brown winter–very little snow.   Today, Wisconsin’s normal winter returned with a fresh coat of several inches of snow, along with cold temperatures.  My wife Julia and I celebrated by taking a quick snowshoe walk around the marsh.  Brisk, but refreshing.

The last time I went snowshoeing on the marsh was a couple of weeks ago when my daughter was home.  Unfortunately, while we were on this same trail, Allie lost her iPhone, which was purchased from summer work savings.  Allie and I walked up and down the trail several times, hoping to find it on top of the snow. 

Later, Julia returned with a rake and went through about a half mile of trail, raking the snow without any luck.  A day after Allie returned to college, we got a call from Madison from a very honest stranger who found Allie’s phone on a day that the snow had partially melted. Rejecting any reward, he told us that he only hoped that if his own phone was lost someday, that someone would treat him with a similar kindness in returning the phone.

John Prine wrote a song called, “Some humans ain’t human.”  I can’t argue with that.  But, thankfully, good people help balance that out.