Hiking the Never Ending Trail - November 18, 2008

Our final campout for the 2008 camping season once again brought us back to the state forest of Southern Kettle Moraine.  Our goal this time was to hike a different portion of the National Scenic Ice Age Trail covering 10.5 miles.  This meandering trail would visit pine forests, the crests of moraines, the hollows of kettles, grassy fields, and woodlands of oaks still refusing to shed their leaves.  After heading west 40 miles to La Grange, Wisconsin, our first challenge was to find Shelter #3 on Duffin Rd.  It would be unmarked, up in the woods an unknown distance off the road, on a pitch black night, yet somewhere near the Ice Age Trail crossing the road.  As it was a “first-come, first-served” site Meriwether was overjoyed to find it unclaimed and vacant 300 yards straight uphill off the road.  So we found our adirondak shelter, protected from the elements, perched on the very peak of a moraine in the woods overlooking the distant city of Whitewater.  From an empty fire pit we soon had fire and heat to cook tinfoil dinners and a couple of chuck steaks, along with fresh green beans, and hot chocolate.  With food, shelter, heat, and fellowship what else was needed?  In the shelter most of the real outdoorsmen would sleep on the sandy dirt ground while some chose the “bunk beds” (sleeping atop the benches 2 feet off the ground) on the inside perimeter of the lean-to. 

As the night waned on about 10:30 p.m., some Scouts retired while others quietly enjoyed a card game on the picnic table.  Meriwether sat at the table, too, but was writing in his journal his thoughts and feelings about this great outdoor moment and time in life.  Then from the woods a half-mile below, we heard the soft “who-who, ha-whoooo” of a Great Horned Owl.  Excitedly, Meriwether jumped to his feet and went to a nearby tree and called back, “who-who-ha-whooo.”  The owl responded back and was shortly joined by a second owl calling.  The calling then became closer!!  Meriwether hoped it might fly up to the very tree he called from but the excitement stopped when the owls went silent.  Maybe another day!

Then precisely at 11:00 p.m., we heard the “yipping” of 4-6 coyotes making ready for another night’s hunt.  Those are the true sounds of the wild.

Soon all of the Scouts went to bed while Meriwether sat alone at the table.  Stillness reigned on a perfectly calm night.  It was a warmish 35-40 degrees not requiring any gloves.  The serenity and solitude of this time was a dream come true.   All worldly cares and concerns slipped away.  Perfect peace was that rare moment now.  Breathing pure air and exhaling life’s worries was beyond explanation, and reserved for only those experiencing it.  High above, an overcast sky of clouds, moved by north winds, passed swiftly across the brightness of a full moon, which occasionally peeked out of the breaks in the clouds.  How awesome!!

Saturday’s arrival brought neither light rain nor snow as predicted.  It was a picturesque fall day in mid-November perfect for the purpose:  hiking the Ice Age Trail from Shelter #3 to the forest headquarters 10.5 miles northeast.  A hearty breakfast of old fashioned oatmeal with brown sugar, milk, bananas, and hot chocolate got us going.  After placing our cars we began the hike at 10:40 a.m.   The “rock and rolling” trail journey began, with us and our walking sticks.   While talking Scouts watched the ground Meriwether watched the trees, sky, and surroundings.  Being at the end of the line he could observe a fleeting raptor, or see the tail of a fox or coyote bound over the hill, or see a wild turkey flush from its roost.  Noisy, talking boys were usually unaware of such subtleties but Meriwether lived for this exhausting, exhilarating experience all year.  This escape to the middle of a state forest was perfect medicine for a homesick traveler on earth.  Here we passed ancient and ageless oak trees that were here long before our 5th great-grandfather was born and that still stood tall thru hundreds of winters.  Yet the very round glacial rocks over which we walked could say to the old oaks, “we silently watched your 100th great, grandfather as a seedling that came and went like the passing wind.”  This isolated landscape oozed with geologic history itself.

Rico, our SPL, led us on the narrow 5-foot trail on the crests of moraines that had deep and steep descents to kettles below on both sides of the trail.  Sandy and rocky soil caused dwarfed Northern Red Oak trees to have mature branches only 6’ off the ground.  Fallen trees were moss-covered with mushroom growth on top, even in November.  The trail then entered a red and white pine grove with soft needles on the ground like a thick carpet underfoot that made you want to slide and glide and roll on their slipperiness.  We emerged to ascend our rocky uphill trail that zigzagged to save tired legs.  By mile #7 our legs and feet knew they were having both a “high (and low) adventure.”  So we ate lunch right in the middle of the trail.  It felt so great just to sit and relax.  We took out cinnamon and wheat bagels, slapped on some peanut butter and jelly, and dined on apples and drink.  Actually, just sitting and eating together, and talking and laughing was one of the highlights of the whole hike.  Then overhead we heard and saw a large flock of about 40 sandhill cranes circling and calling out.  They appeared to be the last birds of fall today. 

By mile #8 we all agreed that the person who measured the trail must have lost count more than once and started over.  Maybe scouts have a nose for the end when Rico, Mitchell, and Chad started jogging and never stopped.  Going “over the fields and thru the woods”, grammas house was in sight.  We all arrived 5 hours later at 4:00pm and well exercised.  This journey was a true “outing” in scouting.  The smells of nature and sights of pure wilderness were reward in itself.  As we drove away we listened to our traveling song sung by the Mama’s and Papa’s:  “all the leaves are brown…..and the sky is gray….”  How fitting!

Fare thee well, our forest friends!

Meriwether