I hiked from outside Waukesha (Sullivan) to Cottage Grove along the Glacial Drumlin Trail.

My ankles are still sore, 4 days later.

These photos got way out of order, so I tried to reconstruct the trip as best I could…

Day 1

Walking by mint fields, the fresh scent of spring.

The first chunk of the trail was close to highways, and it was Sunday. That meant everybody and their Mom was out on a Harley making really loud fart noises in the face of Nature. Awesome.

The whole length of the trail is used to run various conduits, like fiber.

I’m guessing… server farm in the middle of nowhere?

Already starting to get exhausted.

For a brief period, the trail takes a detour onto highways.

When I was crossing this highway portion, a fella yelled at me from his porch: “How many high adventures you been on?”

What?

I replied that not much was going on today, but he meant how many backpacking adventures I had been on. Got regaled with his tales of various hikes, and then took my leave when he started ranting about politics.

What was it called when something is joined to itself again?

Had enough shots of a trail receding into the distance? DON’T WORRY THERE’S LOTS MORE

Watched a beaver building his dam from this bridge. Impossible to get a good photo of, though.

NEW FASHIONABLE HAT DISCOVERED ON TRAIL!

HATS MAKE ME WORRIED! OR MAYBE TIRED?

What’re you lookin’ at?!?

Failed to get a shot of my tent apparently, although I could swear I took one. The trail delirium: definitely setting in. I chilled in the tent reading Sartre, and the rain was barely a smattering of drops.

Day 2

Let the hiking… CONTINUE

Giant storage somethings stand outside Lake Mills.

Lake Mills, in the early morning hours.

Stared at a pair of starlings chasing each other, hardly inches apart, whirling and flicking directions together with precision.

Saw otters frolicking in the marsh… I’m not quick enough on the draw to have a photo of that.

Did you know that apparently serious (?) hikers give themselves “trail names”? Some guy walked up to me, started asking where I was hiking from, and then asked my trail name. “Mine’s Nimblefoot, but you can call me Ned.” Okay, alright…

I ran across a couple climbing around underneath one of the old wooden bridges. They were geocaching; a “hard one”.

Old signs from the long-gone railroad dot the trail.

For some reason in Cottage Grove a giant circus was packing up.

Also there were still deer running around being silly.

At the end, collapsing in the grass under a shady tree… my ankles, hips, and shoulders hate me, but my back is alright – so the new pack worked great!

NAP TIME