We’re back, after an unexplained 13 week absence. During that time we had the pleasure of enduring work, more work, a visit with a self-described crypt-keeper-leprechaun, some more work, and we fought a dragon. Now we’re back to mindlessly telling stories and share the breadth of humanity’s experiences. Because it’s what we do. Side note: don’t ever fight a dragon. This was a bad choice.
Anyways, as part of their desire to endlessly prove their incompetence, I ended up in Milwaukee again for work a whole day early. Rather than tool around downtown again I decided to venture out away from the concrete. So I planned a hike through Kettle Moraine Forest, Lapham Peak Unit. It’s about a half hour drive west of Milwaukee via I-94.
I hiked the Moraine Ridge trail which they clock at 6.6 miles. I broke with my usual practice and didn’t carry any weight. I even left the boots aside and just used my running shoes. I was just too tired to get crazy with anything.
I saw something new in that all the trails are actually made for cross country skiing. In most places the paths are cut through the woods with a very wide diameter. It’s weird. Though they probably don’t have any choice for skiing.
When I was there it was still the end of winter, only the very barest of green saplings were beginning to appear.
The various trails constantly cross each other at multiple points. Accordingly, the park unit labels each intersection and provides an updated map. Beyond that they don’t really label the trails at all. I had to check multiple times to ensure I didn’t take a wrong turn. Even so, I did actually take the wrong way once and had to backtrack.
Dude is glad winter is ending.
There were many other folks on the trails, but I would not call them crowded. Like a dummy I dropped my gloves and had to go back and get them at one point. A couple put them where I could see them after finding them on the ground. I passed them later and they were happy to see I’d found them. I thanked them, though was a bit embarrassed. I was a nice human moment. I think they were Quebecois.
According to the trail marker, the Native Americans that used to inhabit the park grounds bent these trees on purpose as their own markers. This one marked the way to a water source. Here is another example.
Note the difference between the trees just emerging from winter, and the pine trees who laugh at winter.
I didn’t time myself, I stopped here and there. Again, I was tired to begin with so it didn’t matter. But I had a great time. It was a good release from paperwork and all the stuff that doesn’t actually matter. So nature did it’s job. Hail nature.