Breaking Trail on White Tara

 This is a post for the third day of our trip to the northern Wisconsin border.  Microspikes would have been a better choice for most of the trail conditions, but we were wearing snowshoes.  Not surprisingly, our best memories are of the short, unmaintained White Tara Trail, where our snowshoes broke through fresh snow.

The trail system is called the Three Eagle Trail--just south of Eagle River, Wisconsin.  The specific property that we were on is called Tara Li.  Most of the property was machine-tracked for cross country skiing:  striding and skating.  Some of the trails were marked for snowshoes, but these were mostly machine-packed also.

The entire property was so beautiful.  This is an area inhabited by bears, wolves, and many other animals.  

Just past the bridge, we saw a narrow, winding trail with fresh snow veer to the right.  An intriguing sign waited for us.

The deeper snow and downed trees across the unmaintained trail forced us to slow down and be more aware of our surroundings.  The heavy woods made me feel  like we were Hansel and Gretel, walking toward the witch's gingerbread house.  Alas, we never found the witch, but we enjoyed the trail immensely.

It was time to head home.  At present, we are settling into the daily routines of retirement.  I've been hiking every day--mostly at the marsh or at Gibraltar Rock.  Julia has been cross-country skiing almost every day.  We are trying to decide where our next trip should be.  

One of Justin's caregivers turned out to be a dud (didn't show up three out of four days and was late on the day he showed up).  Justin is in the process of hiring someone who will replace most of the hours, but the vetting takes several weeks.  Julia had to drive to Whitewater to fill a shift Sunday.  I'm on deck, although this week looks set.

That makes any longer trips problematic.  It's probably better to stick closer to home anyway.  One of these days though, we are going to make another run to the border (Wisconsin's border anyway).  Justin is supposed to be eligible for the vaccine around March 1st.  Ironically, as part of Justin's caregiving team, we are already eligible. Even Justin's young friends who help out occasionally without pay are eligible. That doesn't  make sense to me with Justin being high-risk.  

No one put me in charge of things, and that's probably a good idea. 

 

 

Early for Snowshoes?

My blogging has slowed down recently, as I’ve been working each day to move posts over to to blogger.  If anything especially exciting was going on, rest assured that I would let my faithful readers know.  But the truth is that not much is going on in my life right now–that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

The highlight of the week was our first snowshoe trip of the year.  Conditions were not ideal.  There was just enough snow to cover the rocks and stumps, which made tripping easy.  I didn’t ever fall, but I did have a few close calls.

The nasty blister on my right heel is my own fault.  I decided to hike using a pair of newish boots that my father-in-law Gene gave me this summer.  The fit from front to back was good, but there was too much wriggle from side to side.  I should have known better.  I’m using moleskin now to protect the rather deep wound (no pics).

One of the benefits of copying and pasting all of the blog posts from the beginning of the blog is I get to see where I’ve been the last few years.  I’ve never been someone to spend very much time looking at my own past, but it’s not a bad thing, I’ve decided.

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.

Snowshoeing at Slack’s

We finally have enough snow to make snowshoeing an easy choice over hiking.  Julia and I took turns outdoors today so that someone was home for Justin.  She cross-country skied 12k over at the Lodi Golf Course.  I procrastinated until about 90 minutes before sunset and then drove over to Slack’s Trailhead on the Ice Age Trail.

I often read on other blogs about how terrible and boring winter is in cold climates.  To be honest, however, I would miss winter days like today if I were to move to southern Arizona  or a similar place without wintry blasts to remind us of weather extremes.  The air was so cold and clean, no insects, total silence, and pure solitude.  As I plodded along in my snowshoes, all of my worries and concerns washed away.

It was cold out; temperatures tonight will dip below zero again.  But I wasn’t at all cold as I moved up and down hills, through stands of pine and oak, and passed native prairie grasses.  Seasons keep views dynamic, and I had to stop for a few minutes to gaze across the hills looking southward down the frozen Wisconsin River.

 
I’ve hiked thousands of miles of trails across this country and plan to do a lot more hiking outside my home area.  Yet, I also love the one I’m with.

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.