8 kids and a dog at the Kickapoo Valley Reserve

What to do on another cold, snowy day with the kiddos? With winter hibernation settling in quickly, we turned to the hills and trails of our neighbors. The Kickapoo Valley Reserve(KVR) sits on 8,000 acres between the villages of La Farge and Ontario in southwestern Wisconsin. We went out for a day of "low-impact tourism".

The kiddo's ambivalence and impatience during the meandering car ride turned into snow-filled glee when we arrived at the reserve. Half the kids immediately disappeared into a snow pile. The visitor center was closed so we set off with a lot of energy, a little falling snow and no map.

We had the whole place to ourselves.

"The world I found was inside a book, and then that world was made up of 

even more books, each of which led to yet another world. It goes on forever and ever. 

At nine I thought I must get to Narnia or die. It would be a long time before I understood

 that I was already there."

Laura Miller, The Magician's Book: A Skeptics Adventure in Narnia

 We walked through the Narnia-like woods as if we had just rolled out of a wardrobe and the White Witch would appear at any moment. I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when I was young. It's one of the few fantasy books I can remember loving...talking animals, magic wardrobes... snow-covered landscapes.. I didn't connect with all of the Christian elements of the story but loved the idea of being transported to an alternate world. And here we were. It was real.

"Wildness reminds us what it means to be human , what we are connected to 

rather than what we are separated from.

Terry Tempest Williams

As we walked by all of the natural wonders, under the falling snow and through the trees, the magical place rose up around us. 

We didn't see any woodland creatures. Or any witches. We did walk through rolling hills, over bridges and up and down trails.

I was just glad to be joined by 8 kids and a dog. Magic is always better when shared.

A Visit with the Birds

As we pulled up to the feeding area at Goose Island, we watched a bird flit out of an outstretched hand in the truck in front of us. We hopped out of our car loaded up with bird food. Mike filled my dad's hand with food. A bird immediately landed in his hand and he was so startled he threw the food out of his hand. He decided to just watch Mike feed the birds.

The snow fell as birds landed all around us.

Goose Island is located in a La Crosse county park in the middle of the Upper Mississippi River Wildlife Refuge.

Whether you're walking the trails, hanging out at a campsite or canoeing around the island, the wildlife is visible everywhere. 

Red Bird

Red bird came all winter

Firing up the landscape

As nothing else could.

Of course I love the sparrows,

Those dun-colored darlings,

So hungry and so many.

I am a God-fearing feeder of birds,

I know he has many children,

Not all of them bold in spirit.

Still for whatever reason-

Perhaps because the winter is so long

And the sky is so black-blue,

or perhaps because their heart narrows

As often as it opens-

I am grateful

That red bird comes all winter

Firing up the landscape

As nothing else can do.

...Winter's gift is this, and it is my heart.

The warm and singing heart of the witch of the quiet cold.

Ariel Llewellyn, excerpt from Winter

Camping Under the Bluffs

Where the Tremepealea River meets the Mississippi River. That's where we pitched our tent. Perrot State Park has over 1,270 acres of ecosystems, wetlands, woodlands and river bank views. I stared at the three stuffed owls on display as the park attendant discussed the park rules. She stopped to take a phone call from a hunter with a lot of detailed questions about hunting squirrels in the park. One of the rangers came in. I remembered how much I like state parks. Yes, they can be loud. The campsites are sometimes too close together. When you find a beautiful state park like Perrot, though, there is so much to love. There is a ranger station with helpful people, plentiful wood, riverside camping spots and hiking trails full of scenic views.

We snuck in a quick beer at The Trempealeau Hotel on our way to the campsite.

I beat Mike at PIG.

And we zoomed into Perrot to head out on a hike.

Pelicans!

We hiked 500 feet up to Brady's Bluff for some of the most spectacular views of the Wisconsin Driftess area.

We set up our campsite. Mostly Mike set up our campsite while I sat around.We rested. We poured wine and listened to the radio. We talked. I kept adding layers as the temperatures dropped.

After a lot of rustic camping, Perrot State Park was a welcome reprieve. The colors surrounded us on all sides with the last breath of Fall.

I recently listened to a reverend describe how he struggles with Fall because it spells the quick passage of time. Most autumn poems are foreboding, bemoaning the upcoming winter season. The crisp air, warm colors, tasty apples and falling leaves make for such a great season. Even the coming winter doesn't make me sad as it means fires in the fireplace, cuddling under soft blankets, a quieter atmosphere. February is another story, of course. After wading through a lot of very depressing poems about Fall, I happened upon John Updike's happy, simple poem about the season:

September

The breezes taste

Of apple peel.

The air is full

Of smells to feel-

Ripe fruit, old footballs,

Burning brush,

New books, erasers,

Chalk, and such.

The bee, his hive,

Well-honeyed rum,

And mother cuts

Chrysanthemums.

Like plates washed clean

With suds, the days

Are polished with

A morning haze.

--John Updkike

Paddling around Fountain City

There are thirty-three river towns located along the Wisconsin Great River Road.  I have paddled by these towns, driven through these towns, stayed overnight in these towns, gone on day trips to these towns, camped by these towns and frequented the restaurants & bars in these towns. I love all of them.  Fountain City is one of my favorite though. The town is so narrow there is just enough room to drive through the passageway between the river on one side and towering bluffs on the other. We were paddling out to a sandbar for the weekend with friends.

Now I have to admit something. I don't love camping. I didn't grow up camping. I didn't grow up with a large love of nature. I didn't dislike it.  It just wasn't a big part of my childhood.  Over time, I've learned to love the great outdoors though. Hiking & biking and short paddling trips have really grown on me. I always feel better after a blast of fresh air and the smell of dirt and evergreen. 

And sand.

We paddled up to our sandbar and made ourselves at home.

Time to check out the digs.

We sat in the sun and talked. We swam. Mike cooked. We ate a great meal. As Cathy and I kept sipping away at our wine, we asked for more "just to wash the rest of this food down." Yes, more please.  Just to wash down these snacks.

We watched the sun drop.

I choose to listen to the river for a while, thinking river thoughts, 

before joining the night and the stars.

--Edward Abbey

So night descended. And the sky turned orange. A barge rumbled by.

 Then the sky turned black. The moon shone and the stars sparkled and gave us so much light.

A paddlewheel glided by, illuminated by the yellow glow of twinkling lights, reflecting off the quiet river in front of us. We watched in awe.

and then morning came.

One of the things I like best about camping on the river is watching the river wake up. The sun quietly rises, the birds begin making noise, fishing boats slowly start motoring by.

If I'm lucky my husband rises before me and I wake up to the smell of camp coffee. If not, I scramble up & grab my camera to capture the whole scene. The river is still the wild west in some ways, particularly at night. Most out of season weekend nights are fine but the party boats are a large part of the scene.  So loud music and the sounds of partying break the reverie and remind me of the public nature of a river or a campsite. It's all of ours. We don't get to pick our neighbors. 

But the morning belongs to the birds and the fishermen.  And sometimes to the photographers.

He's a river rat. I just follow him.

We packed the kayaks. We paddled back to civilization. We zoomed back home. And we dumped sand out of our shirts, our shoes and our bags. We live in a river town and we take a little bit of the river home with us each time.