This column originally appeared in the Feb. 15, 2017, issue of the Portage County Gazette.
Checking out the scenery at Nine Mile County Forest rec area
Is Wausau too big?
Of course not. The question seems ludicrous unless you ardently love even smaller cities like Stevens Point.
But over a tasty wheat beer in downtown Wausau with a friend, prior to a Marathon County snowshoeing outing, the question took root and shaped my thoughts on another excellent regional attraction.
On Google Earth, the Nine Mile County Forest Recreation Area looks worthy of a Presidential Award of Yuuuugeness and Economic Development.
This column originally appeared in the Feb. 4, 2016, issue of the Portage County Gazette. Like that week, this one had a big snowstorm, but the column is appropriate for other reasons. As I keep archiving my old work, my appreciation grows for our friends who helped build the community into what it is. The local history represented by the Zimmermans and Bev Laska is significant, especially when it comes to places like Schmeeckle Reserve and the Green Circle Trail.
Ron and Donna Zimmerman
Tuesday’s snowstorm was a big block party that brought all the neighbors out for a fiesta of snowblowers and shovels. There were almost as many folks out on the sidewalks as we can see on our way back from downtown summer festivals.
Observing everyone simultaneously taking care of our city-owned sidewalks is just one more reminder of the good Midwestern community ethos we have here. It’s also a fine time to recognize some folks who have made Portage County a wonderful place in which to live.
Zimmermans not slowing down
Visiting with Ron and Donna Zimmerman is like the best kind of snowfall. Stories start drifting down around you. You can just sit back and take it all in; next thing you know, you look up and you’re buried in wonderland.
I spent a couple of hours talking to the longtime University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point naturalists at their home east of Polonia recently. “Naturalists” doesn’t nearly do justice to their collective accomplishments and careers, but it might be the easiest way to describe the two of them together.
Frequent hiking buddy Chris Sadler and I were reminded of the need for winter preparedness during a not-so-well-planned trip to hike the Turtle Rock Segment of the Ice Age Trail last week. We set out to knock a few more miles off the IAT, but Chris forgot to prompt his hiking buddy to prompt Chris to bring the paraphernalia required to negotiate the trail.
I suppose I could blame any addle-brained behavior on my part to osmosis. After all, it was Chris who spent the previous three weeks in South Carolina, where temperatures in the 40s apparently cause most of that region’s population to hole up, barring their doors until everything blooms again and they can hear ice cream trucks jangling down the street.
Truth be told, this was just one of those trips where I agonized over a destination, and thus never picked one until shortly before Chris came to pick me up. I asked when he arrived if he’d brought snowshoes, and because he hadn’t, we decided to skip them.
It’s that time when Wisconsin can’t decide what it wants and the temperatures bounce around with variations of 30 or 40 degrees over the span of days – or even hours, which is where man and nature come in.
More specifically, it’s when a man has to battle for control of his sidewalk over the nature of that one snow-plow driver.
You know – that guy who shows off his prowess at clearing the street in front of your house when all the conditions are just right.
author’s note: this is the original version of a piece I shortened for use in the March 9 issue of the Portage County Gazette
Deer tracks across the marsh
“How long do you think they can run like that?”
The question was posed by my frequent hiking companion Chris Sadler, who for the first time was filling the role of cross-country skiing buddy.
We were watching eight deer streaking across a flat, icy expanse of McMillan Marsh Wildlife Area, about a hundred yards southeast from where we glided along a low dike, heading back to Chris’ car.
The dike road ran between the marsh on our right and the forest on our left, where the Little Eau Pleine River winds about on its way toward an affiliated reserve, the George Mead Wildlife Area, before ultimately draining into Lake DuBay more than 20 miles to our east.
It was a perfect winter day. The midday temperatures were hovering around 10 degrees with westerly and northwesterly winds hitting no more than 10 miles an hour – enough to chill our faces thoroughly but not bring any substantial discomfort.
Words Are Roads 