October 17, 2018
Day 1. The Gandy Dancer Trail
As my long-time friend Sean drove away after dropping me off on the Wisconsin border, I couldn't help but smile. While the 'trail' ahead was a rolling country road, a connector section of the Ice Age Trail, ahead of me was unknown. Even though I grew up in Wisconsin, I had only been to St Croix Falls a couple of times and never on the Ice Age Trail.
Unknown, of course, is a relative term. I'm not heading into Terra in Cognita, here. I have a map, there are trail and road signs, and Wisconsin (as far as I know) has been well charted throughout its entire territory. But this journey for me is new and that makes all the difference to my psyche. For whatever reason, I've always liked finding my own path.
Not that I'm following a specific path per se. The WisconsATHON is an entirely arbitrary route from the Western border of the state to the eastern. Along the way, I'll hike, bike and eventually kayak down the Milwaukee River. My rules are simple and equally as arbitrary as my route: human powered, three 'sports', border to border.
As 'made up' as my adventure may be that's also what makes it interesting and unique. The challenge is real (and fairly difficult) long energy-sapping days, a robust and fairly tight itinerary and an uncertain knowledge of exactly what lies ahead both on my route and in my mind... which circles back around to the beauty in this whole endeavor.
For most of the day, I hiked along a wide section of flat gravel, the Gandy Dancer State Trail. With Fall rapidly approaching, I walked through a tunnel of color, the tree's canopies arching nearly completely over me. The trail is isn't the big vast wilderness of the places that I often travel, it runs through farm fields and small towns. But it is a wild corridor and I saw wild turkeys, a swarm of bluebirds and countless wooly bear caterpillars. It felt like vast wilderness.
By the time the sun set, the temperature dropped and I was still hiking. I stopped to put on another layer and my Seirus gloves as the temperature dropped significantly. A barred owl hooted in the distance. I walked without my headlight for a long while but then I reached the end of the Gandy Dancer Trail (for me) and had to navigate through a series of poorly marked ski trails. I took a couple of wrong turns but with the help of my Garmin inReach, got back on track. Adventure is Everywhere!
I hiked another hour when I came upon a big field with the trail leading right through. At first, I thought it was snowing, but then realized it was the goldenrod seeds blowing in the wind and in front of my headlight. The trail wound along a small stream and a while later, I set up camp and cooked a quick meal (i.e. boiled water for freeze dried food). Much to my chagrin, I had somehow sliced my Therm-A-Rest sleeping pad and it wouldn't hold any air. Much to my delight, however, one of my Granite Gear stuff sacks, an 'uberlight' had a strip of sticky patches inside. By the time my Citizen Watch read 10:15, I was cozily ensconced in my sleeping bag after covering nearly 24 miles.
Unknown, of course, is a relative term. I'm not heading into Terra in Cognita, here. I have a map, there are trail and road signs, and Wisconsin (as far as I know) has been well charted throughout its entire territory. But this journey for me is new and that makes all the difference to my psyche. For whatever reason, I've always liked finding my own path.
Not that I'm following a specific path per se. The WisconsATHON is an entirely arbitrary route from the Western border of the state to the eastern. Along the way, I'll hike, bike and eventually kayak down the Milwaukee River. My rules are simple and equally as arbitrary as my route: human powered, three 'sports', border to border.
As 'made up' as my adventure may be that's also what makes it interesting and unique. The challenge is real (and fairly difficult) long energy-sapping days, a robust and fairly tight itinerary and an uncertain knowledge of exactly what lies ahead both on my route and in my mind... which circles back around to the beauty in this whole endeavor.
For most of the day, I hiked along a wide section of flat gravel, the Gandy Dancer State Trail. With Fall rapidly approaching, I walked through a tunnel of color, the tree's canopies arching nearly completely over me. The trail is isn't the big vast wilderness of the places that I often travel, it runs through farm fields and small towns. But it is a wild corridor and I saw wild turkeys, a swarm of bluebirds and countless wooly bear caterpillars. It felt like vast wilderness.
By the time the sun set, the temperature dropped and I was still hiking. I stopped to put on another layer and my Seirus gloves as the temperature dropped significantly. A barred owl hooted in the distance. I walked without my headlight for a long while but then I reached the end of the Gandy Dancer Trail (for me) and had to navigate through a series of poorly marked ski trails. I took a couple of wrong turns but with the help of my Garmin inReach, got back on track. Adventure is Everywhere!
I hiked another hour when I came upon a big field with the trail leading right through. At first, I thought it was snowing, but then realized it was the goldenrod seeds blowing in the wind and in front of my headlight. The trail wound along a small stream and a while later, I set up camp and cooked a quick meal (i.e. boiled water for freeze dried food). Much to my chagrin, I had somehow sliced my Therm-A-Rest sleeping pad and it wouldn't hold any air. Much to my delight, however, one of my Granite Gear stuff sacks, an 'uberlight' had a strip of sticky patches inside. By the time my Citizen Watch read 10:15, I was cozily ensconced in my sleeping bag after covering nearly 24 miles.