Harriers and harried
Today we tooled up to Kettle Moraine State Forest’s Southern Unit to do a little hiking. On our way out Highway 12, a pair of sandhill cranes swung majestically over the highway just in front of us. Not a bad start!
Signs of the recent flooding in this area aren’t difficult to come by. They must have closed County N in Jefferson County at some point; even now the water in one spot is nearly up to the road shoulder. The Rock River banks are still more than a little flooded as well.
We had meant to try the Emma Carlin trails this time around, but we took the Ice Age Trail in the wrong direction. Not feeling any driving need to correct ourselves, we simply kept going. Word to the wise: if you’re going to do this, take serious bugspray, because the mosquitoes are just evil with all this water about.
But it was a nice walk through attractive woodlands, though I could have done without the pop-pop-pop of whatever godforsaken firing range that is thereabouts. Eventually, shortly after crossing 59 near S, the trail opened out into prairie… and that’s where I turned my right ankle first. Okay, it hurt, but no big deal, I kept going. Glad I did, too, because we would have missed the Northern Harriers sailing low looking for edible rodents.
Shortly before the trail hits County N, I turned the same ankle again and colored the air blue with my commentary on that occurrence. Still, I could walk, and the ankle’s range-of-motion wasn’t too impaired, so on we went down the County N shoulder, stopping off at Paradise Springs trails (which are misnamed; there really aren’t trails there, just trout fishing and basic amenities like pit toilets and water fountains, the latter of which was quite welcome). N deadends on 59, which we walked down to pick up the trail back at County S, through the mosquito-ridden woodlands and a few spots where the trail is rock-strewn and I—yeah, you guessed it, turned the ankle a third time.
It’s pretty much sprained, ordinary ankle inversion sprain; it appears to be “moderate” on the mild-moderate-severe scale. Still, it drove me home without much complaint, and I can walk on it if I’m careful. May take the bus to work tomorrow; we’ll see how it feels.
No regrets. I can live with a sprained ankle for the sake of sandhill cranes and Northern Harriers.