Ice Age Trail Alliance
Lodi Chapter

When I first moved to Wisconsin 14 years ago with three young children in tow, I had never heard of the Ice Age Trail (IAT). I searched for places where my kids could have fun hiking and was delighted to find Indian Lake, Parfrey's Glen, and Devil's Lake within a relatively short drive from home. I didn't realize their connection to the makings of a greater trail. After enjoying a ride across the Merrimac Ferry we'd enter the enchanted world of Parfrey's Glen. I appreciated relief from summer's heat while hiking the shady, rocky canyon. Sounds of the bubbling creek soothed my nerves while the kids ran back and forth on the boardwalk. At Indian Lake my little darlings enthusiastically climbed the stairs to visit the small chapel and were eager to hike around the park, hoping to catch a glimpse of Smokey the Bear, who they were convinced lived in the warming cabin. My youngsters kept busy on the trails. They'd pick up rocks and sticks, climb logs, and explore. It was all a game to them – they didn't realize they were getting exercise. Sometimes it was a challenge slowing my pace to accommodate their little legs and multiple diversions, but at least I was hiking. Desperate for some trail time, I came up with a plan that worked for longer hikes: pay 25 cents for every 15 minutes of hiking without complaining. At Devil's Lake, we'd sing along the way, stop for treats and lake views, and climb rocks. On good days, I could get two or three hours in. The kids looked forward to spending their hard earned cash on treasures in the park store.

The first time I remember being aware of the IAT was ten years ago while cross country skiing at Devil's Lake. I didn't realize its significance until moving to Lodi a few years later. What a surprise to find a beautiful section of the trail practically in my own backyard.

Our family developed a spring and fall tradition of hiking from home to the Robertson trailhead and then into Lodi. The first time, with a six and eight-year old, the five mile trek took close to two hours. The girls played along the way, made up elaborate stories, and pretended to be horses. We ended the adventure with lunch and ice cream on Main Street. Spring hikes were usually around Mother's Day weekend, which coincided with the luscious flowering of apple and plum tree blossoms. In the fall we'd relish the cooler bug-free air, take in the vibrant colors, listen for the call of migrating geese, and stop for views of the marsh. One year Santa brought snowshoes for the family, so we added winter treks into town as well.

The girls started inviting friends to join us on these seasonal hikes. By then their pace had picked up and it was a decent workout. Long gone was the practice of paying for trail time. These days, my girls and their friends plan their own hikes on the IAT, and I'm rarely invited. It took me a while to get used to this – I felt a little left out! Luckily I have friends of my own who'd rather meet on the trail than at the shopping mall.

Last summer my daughters and I visited Southern California, where my passion for hiking was born. We spent time in the mountain community I loved so much as a child, and hiked to one of the peaks I climbed with my mother 35 years ago. The hike was much less difficult than I remember it being back then. I was surprised by one thing, however. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep up with my girls. They'd stop and patiently wait for me. As soon as I'd catch up, they'd be off again, laughing & singing, sharing secrets. Somewhere over the years my daughters surpassed me in strength and stamina. I got a little teary eyed watching them ahead of me, so grown up, remembering all the years I'd spent waiting for them.

In the fall the girls practiced on the IAT with their cross country running team. Recently we met at Robertson Trailhead and the team hiked and ran with poles, imitating classical skiing. I couldn't keep up, but I didn't mind. It was a glorious afternoon and I was putting one foot after another on a trail that I love. The air was crisp. With each breath I felt alive and happy, grateful that despite living in a culture dominated by high tech entertainment, simple pleasures are what make my life worthwhile. The sun was setting behind rose colored clouds as we headed back to our cars. My heart was light as I listened to the cheerful chatter of teenagers enjoying themselves on the trail.

The IAT has become a central part of my life, a place where my faith in the world is regularly renewed, where my spirit is fed and my body kept strong. I want to grow old walking along her paths. But my hopes go beyond that. Someday these young people will bring their own little ones out on the trail to learn an appreciation and respect for the natural world. More little bodies will grow strong and healthy as they run along picking up rocks, climbing logs, exploring the land. They are our hope for keeping this trail alive. Here in this trail-rich Lodi valley, the torch has been passed.