Gathering of Waters

I've almost always lived by a big body of water.  When I was growing up, we lived a few blocks from Lake Michigan, and I lived close to that lake as a young adult in my first apartment.  During college, I lived on the shores of Lake Mendota (dorms) and then Lake Monona (slumlord's student housing). 

When I worked in San Francisco as a paralegal, our office had views from the Alcoa Building of the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridge.  As a young lawyer in Green Bay, my office faced the Fox River.  Even now, there is a trout steam at the bottom of my hill where I live, and the Wisconsin River is a short drive away. 

Having said all of that, I'm a poor swimmer, fisherman, and boater. What I do enjoy is the calm that water brings to me.  Today, I drove the slow roads from Lodi to the Mississippi River.

 

I made one stop for gas at a Kwik Trip in Viroqua.  I needed some hamburger buns, so I paid inside.  Besides myself, I saw one other customer (an old guy) wearing a face mask.  A half dozen other customers were unmasked.  I was in and out in less than two minutes. 

Kwik Trip's cashiers wore masks and plastic face shields.  I was impressed.  When I was last in our local Kwik Trip for propane, none of the employees were even wearing masks.  Better late than never.

Unlike our state parks, the county park that I'm staying at required check-in at the office.  The employee wore a mask, and hand sanitizer was available.  I was the only customer, and in/out in less than two minutes.  Lot of the campsites have views of the river, but those sites don't have much privacy or distance.  My site is mostly shaded (with electricity) and has good privacy/distance from my neighbors. 

By walking five minutes, I find what I came here for:

The gathering of the waters doesn't change what's going on in the world. But it changes the way that I feel.  For that, I'm thankful.  Callie and I took a long walk along the banks of the Mississippi.  There will be more of that in the coming days. 

Surreal

Surreal: defined by Merriam-Webster as "marked by the intense irrational reality of a dream." Things were getting better in Wisconsin during late spring.  The economy was shut down, but we flattened the curve. 

That's all out the window now.  Since re-opening, we've doubled our daily case rate, closing in on 1000/day of positive tests.  The percentage of positives is creeping up.  It's only a matter of time before the death rate does too. 

Our governor, slapped down by the Wisconsin Supreme Court who voided his stay-at-home order, said that he doesn't have the authority to require face masks.  Then he says that he might do it anyway.  Madison imposed its own face mask order for indoor public places.  That goes into effect Monday.  Milwaukee is still thinking about it.  Here in Columbia County, the bars are open, drinks are flowing, and the band is playing "Dance Band on the Titanic."

Me?  I'm going camping with my face masks and hand sanitizer.  Who even knows what fall and winter are going to look like?

A Few Days at Blue Mounds

Julia and I hitched up the Scamp on Wednesday, got our motors runnin' and headed out on the highway, looking for adventure and whatever came our way.  

Well, maybe not.  Wisconsin state parks require advanced reservations for camping this year.  We made prior arrangements at Blue Mounds State Park to spend a couple of days mid-week, before the crowds arrived for the July 4th weekend.  Blue Mounds is about an hour from our house.

Hazy Jane IPA

Things have been a little tense with the four adults (more or less) in our house, staring at each other for the last few months.  The real grown-ups had to get away to preserve sanity.  Allie and Justin were left to fend for themselves and defend the castle.  They did remarkably well, despite some challenges, and we appreciated the chance to get away for some safe down-time with nature and each other.

Campground check-in was touch-less.  The office was closed.  A sign directs campers to go directly to their campsite.  You can print a copy of your confirmation to put up on the site or show your phone if asked.  No one asked us for anything.  Aside from waving hi and thanks to the workers cleaning the bathrooms several times per day and spraying down the water spigots, there is no interaction with park personnel.  We brought our own water and bathroom, so things were touch-less there too.

The pool is closed.  The towers are closed.  The playground was closed.  Trails are open.  We hiked the park's trails and also strolled the Military Ridge Bike/Hike Trail which passes next to the state park. 

After a daily five mile hike early in the morning to beat the heat, we spent the afternoons and evenings at the campsite:  reading, cooking, drinking, and staring into the fire.  We tried to remember the last time we enjoyed a dinner inside a restaurant.  But mostly, we tried to stay in the moment and enjoy this respite from the current days. 

Reading a book by the fire

When we first arrived on Wednesday, the campground was about one-third full.  When we left this morning, things were just about filled up.  Camping mid-week seems like a good way to avoid the crowds.  Julia has changed her work schedule to allow more of these outings. 

Summer of Social Distancing

Callie the Cattle Dog:  Social Distancing

I enjoyed my week in northern Wisconsin immensely, but I was under strict orders to be back home for Father's Day weekend.  Last Friday, I hitched up under darkening skies and made it back home just before the storms hit. 

We've had quite a bit of rain over the last few days.  I won't complain because it's kept the weather cool.  Days over 90 during Wisconsin's summers are uncommon. Today, the high nudged just over 70. 

I don't have much planned for extended trips.  This fall, if at all possible, I would like to spend some time in South Dakota, but it's just too early to make any decisions.  Allie is trying to find a job, preferably on the West Coast.  Justin is trying to go back to college this fall.  Julia has unfinished business before her retirement.  I'll be taking things week by week.

Things have started opening up here for camping.  State parks, national forests and the Kickapoo Reserve are all open.  Interestingly, places that take reservations are booking up fast.  I tried to get a mid-week camping reservation at Wildcat State Park.  I was very surprised that much of the summer is booked up already.  Several of Julia's patients have remarked that they recently bought RVs or trailers as part of the effort to be outside and safer this year.  The trick will be finding the hidden gems away from the popular places.

Wisconsin made the news this week when one of our local strip clubs in the Wisconsin Dells had a covid outbreak. I guess they weren't social distancing. 

Boulder Lake

From Scott’s property, I drove about an hour or so east into the Chequmegon-Nicolet National Forest.

I was interested in two campgrounds that recently opened: Bagley Rapids and Boulder Lake. My original plan was to first spend some time at Bagley Rapids, an inexpensive primitive campground on the Oconto River. From one of the waterfront sites, you can hear the sound of the rapids while drifting off to sleep.

However, a road detour took me right past Boulder Lake. I figured that was fate; so I pulled in Monday morning. There were more people camped here than I expected, but I found a beautiful lakeside site without hookups that simply lured me in.

The campsite had its own trail to the lake.

As the sunset, looks called out that all is still well in the natural world. Well, I know it’s not, but the sound of the loons still brought me peace and joy.

On the next day, I was brought back to earth when I found a new form of campground litter.

I’m going to spend a few days here, focusing on the lake and the call of the loons. I need this.

Harrison Hills

We’ve enjoyed our first camping trip of the year and the time spent with Scott, Julia’s brother. We have different ideas about what’s safe during these days, but having the Scamp on the property and a long covered porch to socialize more safely has made for a pleasant  stay. 

On the day after Julia’s arrival, we drove ten minutes to the Harrison Hills segment of the Ice Age Trail. In the beginning, we opted to start our hike on the well-maintained and roughly parallel ATV trail. It made for easy side-by-side hiking and seemed less “ticky,” which can be a problem this time of year. Additionally, it was early enough that the ATV riders had not yet recovered from Saturday morning hangovers, so we initially had the trail to ourselves.

The weather was crisp with temperatures starting in the 40’s and topping out in the 60’s. This area of the state is characterized by thick woods, small lakes and wetlands. 

After about three miles, the trail was interrupted by a “water feature” caused by four inches of recent rain. After discussing whether or not to get wet in the water of unknown depth, we decided that a six mike hike in and out would be enough.

Callie felt cheated, so she went for a short swim on the return trip.

By now, the ATV’s started showing up. Watching them ride by, with everyone but the leader breathing a cloud of trail dust, made me glad to have married another silent sports enthusiast. The Ice Age Trail intersects with the ATV trail several times, so we jumped off into the narrower walking path. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a trail map, so by 50/50 chance, we headed the wrong way. 

However, it was such a beautiful day, we didn’t really care. After hiking up a steep hill ending with a radio broadcast tower, we figured out our (my) mistake, and retraced our steps to get to the other side of the ATV’s.

Soon, we were back at the now-crowded parking lot. Not much social distancing going on here, so we hurried into the truck and headed back to Scott’s for spicy Bloody Mary’s and a game of cards.