I Am a Trailtessa

Occasionally, I stray from the plant-specific tagline of this blog to share an experience that ties closely with that theme. Earlier this autumn, on a late-September day that felt more like high summer, a friend and I participated in a hiking event with Wisconsin women of all ages--from young children to seniors.

As defined by the Ice Age Trail Alliance (IATA), we were/are all "Trailtessas."





A Trailtessa is: "a woman or a girl who gets out on the Ice Age National Scenic Trail to experience adventure, freedom, and a new way to be." The IATA has put together a creative, impressive collection of opportunities for Trailtessas in the months ahead.

For those unfamiliar with the Ice Age Trail, it's a thousand-mile footpath winding through some of Wisconsin's most beautiful natural areas. The trail follows the outline of unique landscape features left behind as the last major glacier retreated from this area, more than 12,000 years ago. The trail is entirely within Wisconsin, and is one of 11 U.S. National Scenic Trails. I've been an IATA member for several years now: It's a worthy cause and a national treasure!



At the September event, the IATA offered information, resources, and even a few "freebies" as part of our minimal registration fee. We had to "work" for our reward, though. The event offered three trail options--from a short loop to a 2.9-mile hike. Most of us chose the latter. It was a hot day with temperatures in the 90s, and the trail looped up and down some moderate hills. But we persevered.



The reward: a lovely farm-to-table meal prepared by an excellent, local sous chef and her team. The outdoor venue was lovely, complete with 360-degree views of restored prairie and Oak savanna landscapes.



Our sponsors were generous!



Our chef was Jamie Hoang, of Sujeo restaurant in Madison. Yum, the food was excellent!

It was such a positive experience--to hike, dine, converse, and experience with other Trailtessas such a beautiful segment of the Ice Age Trail. And as the event wound down, we witnessed the colorful glow of a stunning sunset on the landscapes all around us.









I look forward to participating in more Trailtessa events in the months ahead.

Join Me for a Short Hike on a Misty, Summer Morning

(It's Wordless Wednesday and Wildflower Wednesday! Join the fun!)

A Peaceful Hike at Durward's Glen

I miss warm-weather hikes. As winter settles in, I'm dreaming about the trails that call me during the spring, summer, and fall.

One of our favorite family hiking destinations over the years has been Durward's Glen, 30 miles north of Madison in the Baraboo Hills. The 40-acre property is on the National Register of Historic Places and is open to the public daily, from dawn until dusk. It's had a rich tradition of contemplative, physical, and spiritual renewal since the mid-19th Century. (Visit this link for more on the history of Durward's Glen.)

Photos in this post were from a late summer hike a couple of years ago.



The Glen, itself, is punctuated by a gentle stream, a peaceful woodland, and fascinating rock ridges.



During the growing season, wildflowers, like this Cutleaf Coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata), greet visitors along the paths.



The main loop is a relatively easy hike for families. A simple bridge crosses the stream, and then the trail becomes a little narrower and can be a little muddy after a heavy rain.



Visitors feel a sense of history and serenity, seeing the carefully placed figures and the explanations of their significance.



The geology of the place is stunning. Deep gorges were formed in the sandstone and conglomerate rock over time, exposing the quartzite bluffs.



How do trees survive like this, growing out of rock and with their roots partially exposed?



One of the tallest trees on the property is a nearly 400-year-old White Oak (Quercus alba), registered in Wisconsin as one of the state's oldest of that species.



If you like blackberries, they're plentiful along the walking path.



Well-maintained gardens line the stairs leading to the Holy Family shrine.



The shrine was sculpted in Italy from white carrara marble.



Blooms vary by season. In early August during this visit, Rudbeckias (R. maxima or submentosa) and Michigan Lilies (Lilium michiganense) were the stars.







Also, sweet-smelling garden Phlox (P. paniculata).



One of the prettiest little gardens is a prayer circle with a statue of St. Anthony of Padua at the center.



Butterflies, like this Great Spangled Fritillary, warm their wings nearby.



Durward's Glen is a peaceful place, whether you visit for a short hike, a day of reflection, or an organized retreat.

Visit this link for more about the history of Durward's Glen.
Visit this link for a quick video of the facility and the grounds.

Plant of the Month: Wild Columbine

This plant, Aquilegia canadensis--common names, Wild Columbine or Eastern Red Columbine--is following me wherever I go this spring/summer. Do you ever get that feeling? That you're seeing the same plant everywhere?

I haven't left my own state this growing season, but I've been in the north, the south, and the middle sections of Wisconsin--in shade and sun and dappled-in-between. Places with sandy soil, clay soil, and loamy soil.



This native Columbine seems happy in just about every location--even growing out of rocks, as I mentioned in my last post. It's reblooming in a new pollinator garden I helped establish--out in south-facing, bright sun at the edge of a farm field.



I've noticed Wild Columbine for most of my life, of course, but this year seems to be an especially good year for it and I seem to be particularly in love with it.



One especially nifty aspect of this plant, which I didn't realize until recently, is that it competes quite well with our non-native, invasive Garlic Mustard (Alliaria petiolata). During a hike in one of our state parks earlier this season, we noticed an overgrowth of Garlic Mustard.



The only other plant of significance in the forest understory was Wild Columbine. If you have a stubborn patch of Garlic Mustard, perhaps Columbine can help reclaim it.



A. canadensis is native to most of North America east of the Rockies, according to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. It's cold-tolerant, heat-tolerant, drought-tolerant, and moisture-tolerant. The blooms seem to be the perfect invitation to birds, butterflies, and hummingbirds--and I've seen them all enjoying its nectar, pollen, and seeds.

A larval host for the Columbine Duskywing butterfly, this plant readily reseeds, and most sources say it's best propagated by seed. It also readily hybridizes with other Columbines, which can yield some interesting color combinations. Some gardeners complain that it can be somewhat invasive.

When we first moved to our current property, we had a patch of Wild Columbine, but for some reason it disappeared. I recently added some back to the garden. I'm a big fan.



I'm also linking in with Gail's Wildflower Wednesday over at Clay and Limestone. (I made it just in time to call it a Wednesday post!)

A Wisconsin winter walk-off

Does this look like spring?



How about this?

No, of course, it does not!

With that said, spring is definitely making an appearance here in my little town of McFarland, near Madison, Wis. On Sunday, I took a walk to join in the "Winter Walk-Off" meme, hosted by Les at A Tidewater Gardener. There were definitely signs of spring, though many of them weren't too pretty.







Any time we see water (of the unfrozen variety) outdoors here at this time of year is cause for celebration! There were plenty of water puddles Sunday, and more on Monday, when the temperatures hit 57F (14C)!

But the point of the Winter Walk-Off is to show what I noticed along the way.



The first thing I noticed was the huge flock of cedar waxwings in my neighbor's humongous Cottonwood tree! I didn't get a very good photo, but seriously--there must have been at least 100 massing the top branches of that giant tree. At first they were too far away for me to be able to tell what type of bird they were, but their high-pitched whistle gave them away. And then, zooming in with my camera confirmed it. A tripod would have helped, but oh well.



Next, I headed down the street toward the lake. This is a simple view of a park down the street, which looks pleasant just about every time of year.



At the lake, it was perceptibly colder than it was just a couple of blocks inland. But there's always something fun to see at the lake, which is about a five-minute walk from my house.



Several people ice fishing.



Lots of dock parts, waiting for milder weather.



Huge snow drifts, framing the playgrounds ready for the next season.



Not much chance pedestrians will be walking here for a while.



An ice hockey rink. I wonder how much longer this will be safe.



And a Christmas tree, firmly frozen several yards from the shore.

Next, I headed for higher ground.



Sumac seedheads bright in the late winter landscape.



Dried grasses and forbs adding "winter interest."



More snowmelt along this sunny road. The songbirds were very vocal along this stretch!



Geese flying in every imaginable direction.



Flocks of birds hanging out on warm rooftops.







And fluffy buds everwhere, just waiting for the "real" spring to happen.



This Milkweed seed pod caught my eye on the way home. I wonder if it froze solid before it had a chance to pop open? Will it have a chance to share its seeds when the warmer weather hits?

For other posts in the Winter Walk-Off meme or to join in, visit Les at A Tidewater Gardener.

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Coming soon: The Garden Lessons Learned wrap-up. Please share a post or your thoughts about lessons you've learned during the past few months. To join in, click here to leave a comment with a link to your post. Thanks!