By J.J. King, Ice Age Trail Hiker and Proud Thousand-Miler
My hike along the Ice Age Trail (July 28, 2017 to October 7, 2017) promoted a deep and profound connection with one of America’s most historical citizens as well as remarkable present-day citizens. It provided a link to a champion of the outdoors, John Muir. He kindled the earliest principles of land conservation, preservation and stewardship.
My rambles over rocky moraines, impressively straight eskers, and remarkable circular-shaped kettles yielded opportunities to appreciate how Muir developed an impressive knowledge of glacial physics. (He would later apply his astute acumen to properly interpret California’s Sierra Mountains.) They also showed evidence that goodwill among Wisconsin’s citizens is alive, unconditional, and vibrant.
Wisconsin’s adopted native son developed a deep respect for nature during his youth in Dunbar, Scotland. His unbridled love affair matured upon immigrating to Wisconsin in 1849. Each segment of the trail claims its own reserve of natural tranquility and glaciology. But camping at Muir’s homestead near Ennis Lake was a highlight of my entire hike. It made for a connection with Muir’s drive for full immersion with wilderness.
“Nature streaming into
us, wooingly teaching
her wonderful glowing
lesson […] every wild
lesson a love lesson, not
whipped but charmed
into us. Oh, that glorious
Wisconsin wilderness!”
~ John Muir
I arrived before sunset to witness a brilliant sky transition into twilight. Library silence was palpable, save for a hooting owl. Before slowly drifting to sleep, after eating an entire delicious cherry pie from an Amish bakery, I concluded my naturalist hero had previously walked near my campsite. He examined the same colorful palette of wildflowers. Studied the same acorns dropped from champion oaks. Chased the same slimy salamanders. Listened to the same croaking leopard frogs. On hands and knees, examined the same carpets of verdant green moss while pondering his own future 1,000 mile saunter from Wisconsin to Florida.
After enjoying a lip-smacking loaf of apple cinnamon bread for breakfast, I dove further into his homestead. I touched large trees, wondering if Muir examined them as saplings. Among swaying cattails, I observed a trio of Amish youth launch a wooden rowboat. Did an inquisitive Muir play on the same shoreline? It mattered little that rain showers were inbound. My future readings penned by this giant will have a connection that would have otherwise been marginal in scope had I not experienced the Ice Age Trail, and camped in this most hallowed location.
I also reflected on my positive encounters with the citizens of Wisconsin. Their remarkable assistance made for a highly rewarding hike. Trail Angels abound along other trails. But I never encountered such abundance as on the Ice Age Trail. It merits a subtitle: “The Trail Angel’s Trail.”
I also reflected on my positive encounters with the citizens of Wisconsin. Their remarkable assistance made for a highly rewarding hike.
During a particularly hot and humid summer, I was offered many acts of kindness. The moniker of stranger quickly transformed to the title of friend. Bottles of cool water were frequently offered. Shuttle rides enabled me to resupply my pack. Offers of money to cover their gas were always cheerfully declined. On two occasions while snacking on the side of a road, drivers stopped and extended a hand grasping a wad of cash. With sincere appreciation, I too gratefully declined any monetary exchange.
One Trail Angel was unique in a shared determination to recover my lost American Flag that somehow became dislodged from my pack. Dave Mazurek was walking near the Timberland Segment, and demonstrated a shared interest in its recovery. It was particularly prized having flown on my bike while pedaling across America in 2015.
To inject some humor, I named it “Wilson” — referencing the volleyball lost by actor Tom Hanks in the movie “Castaway.” Our repeated calls went unheeded. We concluded it was found by another hiker, or was blown away during a violent thunderstorm that evening. Dave vowed to continue his reconnaissance.
To inject some humor, I named it “Wilson” — referencing the volleyball lost by actor Tom Hanks in the movie “Castaway.” Our repeated calls went unheeded. We concluded it was found by another hiker, or was blown away during a violent thunderstorm that evening. Dave vowed to continue his reconnaissance. These compassionate gestures transcended across miles of county roads and in small towns. It solidly reaffirmed a warm human spirit that is truly transparent in the Badger State. It abruptly hushed any negativity aired on radio; reported by printed media; and broadcasted by television and the Internet. Wisconsin is a haven to celebrate the support hikers come to warmly prize. By experiencing genuine assistance, they can confidently trek towards a successful adventure.
These compassionate gestures transcended across miles of county roads and in small towns. It solidly reaffirmed a warm human spirit that is truly transparent in the Badger State. It abruptly hushed any negativity aired on radio; reported by printed media; and broadcasted by television and the Internet. Wisconsin is a haven to celebrate the support hikers come to warmly prize. By experiencing genuine assistance, they can confidently trek towards a successful adventure.
The Ice Age Trail is a celebration on many levels. It quietly beckons us to experience Muir’s boyhood home. An outdoor classroom, it invites immersion into Wisconsin’s glaciated geography. And along county roads lacing a seamless tapestry of idyllic dairy farms; alongside vast fields of sweet corn and soybean; reclaimed prairie fields and forested trails, are exceptionally kind people who proudly call this majestic land home. Identified by yellow blazes and images of a wooly mammoth, it offers a preserved iconic hiking topography for all to enjoy. On Wisconsin!
About the Author
J.J. King developed an interest in hiking during his youth in Virginia. Following a career in the United States Navy, he served as a Park Ranger at Bryce Canyon, Grand Teton, and Rocky Mountain National Parks. When not living in a tent, he resides in Jackson, Wyoming. This article is dedicated to Chet and Eloise Anderson, who provided an exceptionally warm stay at their home to conclude his saunter along the Ice Age Trail.
