Moominmama on the Water

In which Moominmama learns the difference between marshes, swamps, fens and bogs -- and that the best place to enjoy Wisconsin is on open water...

Moominmama is hesitant to recommend northern Wisconsin in June as the mosquitos, ticks and flies own the place. But with plentiful maple, birch, pine and hemlock, it must be splendid in the fall and winter. And for a cross-country skier, this place must be a dream.

Moominmama spent a week in the Chequamagon-Nicolet National Forest near Cable, a town with a lovely log cabin public library where I went to work several mornings. 

Cable is also the starting line for the American Birkebeiner Nordic ski race, modeled after a similar race in Norway. Skiers start in Cable and end in Hayward, more than 30 miles away through the woods

During the summer, the many trails double as a place for running, hiking and biking. Heading out on foot, however, made me a target for the hungry mosquitos despite repeated re-applications of bug repellent.

 

On the plus side, they forced me to keep up a good pace! I hiked the mountain bike trails since the grassy paths for skiers were overgrown. But I could still imagine what gliding through these wooded tunnels might feel like on my skis.

Given the bug situation, Moominmama soon learned the best place to spend the day was in my little folding kayak on the water. I'm not sure whether it was the breeze or the dragonflies, but the bugs left me alone.

Namekagon Lake turned out to be less appealing than Cable and Wiley lakes, which came recommended by my new friend, the librarian.

These are narrower and shallower lakes that attract fewer motor boats. Cable Lake is dotted with islands and interesting inlets, like the one full of lilypads above. And passing through one particular marshy area provides a hidden route to Lake Wiley.

Moominmama spent a couple happy afternoons on the water paddling around. This folding kayak, called a Tucktek, is literally a sheet of thick blue plastic with various folds and points of attachment that form a boat, but I am well aware it could sink in the least turbulence. Even folded, it takes up a good bit of space in the back of my car so I often wonder if it's worth carrying with me. But this week, it proved its value. 

I have many happy memories of floating under blue skies thanks to this odd piece of equipment, though it often garners me an audience when I fold and unfold it at a boat launch.

Moominmama did try a couple short hikes despite the bugs, including a one-mile trail designed by the Cable Natural History Museum. There I learned the difference between various wetlands. Marshes have mostly soft-stemmed plants. Swamps are dominated by trees and shrubs. Fens are mostly plants and peat soil but are fed by a water source or via runoff. That compares with bogs which have moss, small shrubs and peat, but get their moisture from the rain.

My trip to Wisconsin has thus far been defined by water, frequently in the form of rain. The damp was surely a boon for the bugs, but it was also a boon for Morgan Falls, where the thundering torrents made for a beautiful view and a reward for pushing past the mosquitos.

Since leaving Cable, I have moved further north, this time camping on a peninsula near Lake Superior, which might as well be an ocean compared with my little inland lakes.

The Apostle Islands across the water date back over 600 million years and have been covered and uncovered after each ice age. Ice free, Lake Superior's waves work on the sandstone rocks, creating small caves and arches.

There is no way my little kayak survives Lake Superior's waves even on a good day. But my plan is to sign up for an excursion involving sea kayaks at my next spot: Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, also on Lake Superior. Here's a view from land along the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, but more to come. Stay tuned!