Call it Driftless Border

by Drew Hanson

There is a place in Dane County with many names including the Cross Plains Reserve, Interpretive Site, Ice Age Complex and Cross Plains State Park. None of these names speak to the uniqueness of this place which distinctly straddles the border between glaciated and unglaciated landscapes. I propose we call it Driftless Border.

The current name was chosen out of convenience before any public land had been acquired. It was named for the nearby town. By analogy, imagine Rib Mountain State Park instead called Wausau State Park. Names matter.

The Driftless Area is an expansive part of southwest Wisconsin that was untouched by Pleistocene glaciers. Most of the Driftless Area’s outline is subtle, especially to the untrained eye, partly due to the presence of older glacial deposits. In other places, the boundary of the Driftless Area is invisible because the glacial deposits that had defined its boundary were carried away by glacial meltwater or other erosional processes. However, in Dane County between Cross Plains and Verona, the Driftless Area is bordered by geologically young glacial deposits, giving this part of the Driftless Area a well defined border. Hence the name, Driftless Border.

The unique geology of the Driftless Border was well-known to University of Wisconsin geologist Fredrik Thwaites (1883-1961) whose 1908 master’s thesis described the geology of the Cross Plains/Verona/Middleton area. A biography of Thwaites appeared in Geoscience Wisconsin, volume 18 and is downloadable at https://wgnhs.uwex.edu/pubs/gs18a09/

Thwaites’ knowledge of the Driftless Border and its national significance undoubtedly shaped National Park Service geologist Robert Rose’s review of Ray Zillmer’s proposed Ice Age National Park in Wisconsin. In 1961 Rose wrote:

“The driftless area of Wisconsin is world famous because it is an unglaciated area of considerable size … lying far within extensively glaciated territory… Several eminent geologists who have been consulted are unanimous in the view that a segment embracing a good example of the moraine-driftless area relationships is highly essential in illustrating the story of continental glaciation. With the completion of each field study, beginning with the initial reconnaissance of 1958, the desirability of including such a segment becomes more firmly recognized… The relationships between moraine and bedrock of sedimentary origin are most strikingly exhibited in an area of about 9,000 acres south and east of Cross Plains. Within this area rugged morainal ridges belonging to the Wisconsin [Glaciation] occur while the strikingly eroded margins of the driftless area lie immediately to the west and south. In brief, this key area is a self-contained unit scenically and scientifically.”

This is why this area became a unit of the National Scientific Reserve and underscores the rationale for the name, Driftless Border.

Some will argue that "Driftless Border" is arbitrary because the border of the Driftless Area extends for miles in either direction. But isn't Rocky Mountain National Park named for a mountain range that spans thousands of miles from Mexico to Alaska?

Call it Driftless Border.

Naturally, the Driftless Border also needs a designation, such as state park, national reserve, national monument, etc. but that is for another discussion.

For additional information about the unique geology of the Driftless Border, see:
Geology of the Ice Age National Scenic Trail, David M. Mickelson, Louis J. Maher Jr., and Susan Simpson, University of Wisconsin Press, 2011; and
Ice Age Complex at Cross Plains, Final General Management Plan and Environmental Impact Statement, National Park Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, 2013.

The IAT's Big Loop: How Did That Happen?

by Drew Hanson

One of the common questions people ask about the Ice Age Trail is, "Why does it have a big loop in the middle?" Sometimes called the doughnut or inaccurately called the bifurcation, the big loop occupies a special chapter in the Ice Age Trail story.

Most of the general route of the Ice Age Trail is due to the plan of Ray Zillmer. He envisioned a long distance hiking trail following the interlobate ridges of the Kettle Moraine in eastern Wisconsin and the terminal moraine west to the border with Minnesota. Without Ray Zillmer, there would be no Ice Age Trail. But once Zillmer died in 1960, the Ice Age Trail almost died with him. More than 10 years passed before Congressman Henry Reuss stepped up to become the Trail’s greatest champion.

For the next three decades, Congressman Reuss was a major influence on most things Ice Age Trail. The full body of his Ice Age Trail accomplishments is far beyond the scope of this article. While the big loop is something he did not intend to create and something he at times worked against in favor of his preferred eastern leg, more than any single person we can thank Congressman Reuss for the existence of the big loop.

the Big Loop near the middle of the Ice Age Trail

During the years following Ray Zillmer’s untimely death, Ice Age Trail leaders increasingly realized that one of the weaknesses of Zillmer’s planned route was that it was not really possible to tell the story of continental glaciation if the Trail’s route adhered rigidly to the interlobate and terminal moraines, not to mention the fact that it would lack variety for anyone walking more than a short segment. Having the Ice Age Trail weave other types of landforms not found on a terminal moraine into the route would make for a better trail. Worth noting is the fact that neither leg of the big loop follows the terminal moraine.

One of Congressman Reuss’s many Ice Age Trail accomplishments was the book, On the Trail of the Ice Age, which he authored through three editions. Initially published in January, 1976 it was the first guidebook on the Ice Age Trail and it included the first set of maps and detailed description of the entire thousand mile route. In the doughnut area, the 1976 edition shows the Trail entirely as a single route of connecting roads between Sauk City and Coloma, passing through the city of Portage. The route skirts the edge of John Muir Park but remarkably misses the Baraboo Hills and Devils Lake Park entirely. The book gives no hint of the western route shown two years earlier on the official Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation brochure of 1974.

Ice Age Trail map from 1974

A major milestone in the history of the Ice Age Trail was the 1980 passage of the Ice Age Trail Act by Congress and signed by the President the same year. Although many people advocated for its designation as a National Scenic Trail, no one was more important to this effort than Congressman Reuss. The law even states that the Trail will be, “generally following the route described in ‘On the Trail of the Ice Age...’ by Henry S. Reuss, Member of Congress, dated 1980.” The route shown in the 1980 edition is the eastern leg — none of the western leg.

As required by the National Trails System Act, the National Park Service completed the Ice Age National Scenic Trail Comprehensive Plan for Management and Use in 1983. The route shown on maps in the plan roughly follows the eastern leg of the big loop but a note on one map states, “The Ice Age Trail Council is working on a rerouting of the trail from Devils Lake to Greenwood Wildlife Area. The rerouting would take the trail west into the Glacial Lake Wisconsin area...” (i.e., the western leg of what later became the big loop).

Also required by the National Trails System Act was appointment of an Advisory Council to assist the National Park Service “with respect to matters relating to the trail, including the selection of rights-of-way.” Appointed by the U.S. Secretary of the Interior, the Advisory Council was comprised of a dozen members including former Wisconsin Governor Warren Knowles, prominent citizens and active Ice Age Trail supporters. Given the conflicting ideas, the Advisory Council was not surprisingly asked to weigh in on the route through the doughnut area. In mid-1984 the Advisory Council approved the western route “to take the trail into the glacial Lake Wisconsin area” as the official route for the Ice Age Trail. But leaders from the city of Portage felt left out of the decision and Congressman Reuss remained unwilling to let go of his preferred route.

1976 map from On the Trail of the Ice Age

In a January 9, 1986 letter from Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation (later renamed the Ice Age Trail Alliance) President John Zillmer (Ray’s son) to Congressman Henry Reuss, John Zillmer addressed the Congressman’s efforts. At the time, Congressman Reuss also sat on the board of directors of the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation. Referring to the route through the city of Portage, John Zillmer wrote, “this route has repeatedly been rejected by the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation in spite of great pressure by you to approve it. As a matter of fact, you have been the only director to support this route. Your planned route was unanimously rejected by the Ice Age National Scenic Trail Advisory Council. It has been rejected by the Ice Age Trail Council. It has been rejected by the National Park Service. It has been rejected by the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources... You have contributed so very much to what progress has been made. Why in the world are you now undermining all that you have worked so hard to accomplish?”

There was a lot of back and forth during those years about whether to make either the eastern or western legs the official route of the Ice Age Trail and designate the other one a National Side/Connecting Trail.

an Ice Age Trail map from 1986*

At one point Congressman Reuss resigned in protest from the board of directors of the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation only to rejoin a few months later. The issue remained a source of unrest. Some maps of this era showed the eastern route through Portage while others showed the western route into the Driftless Area and Glacial Lake Wisconsin, depending on who created the map.

At last, an official effort to put the questions to bed reached fruition in early 1987. Letters were exchanged between Congressman Bruce Vento, Chairman of the Subcommittee on National Parks and Public Lands, and William Penn Mott Jr., National Park Service Director, that outlined what Congressman Vento called “a reasonable solution” of making the two legs of the big loop both part of the official route of the Ice Age National Scenic Trail. Thus the big loop was born out of compromise.

Still, in the 1990 edition of On the Trail of the Ice Age, Congressman Reuss showed none of the western leg of the big loop on any maps but he did include a one-paragraph description of its general route.

In 1999 the Partnership for the National Trail System held its annual conference at Lake Tahoe. Afterward a few of us accepted an invitation from Congressman Reuss to meet at his retirement home in Belvedere, CA. He and his wife were generous and delightful hosts. The elderly statesman had a few Ice Age Trail business items he wanted to impress upon us. One of these was the big loop. As he had done with me once before during a telephone call, at his dining room table he asked that we remove the western leg of the big loop from all maps. Having not lost his powers of persuasion, he made a strong case. But one of my companions that day was a long-time Ice Age Trail board member who provided an equally compelling counter argument. The retired Congressman elegantly shifted the discussion to his next topic.

Questions about the big loop still arise from time to time. Aspiring Thousand Milers sometimes ask if one must hike both legs of the big loop to be considered a Thousand Miler. The answer is “no.” In this case, half a doughnut is sufficient.

To some, the big loop remains a quirk in the Ice Age Trail. Others embrace it as part of what makes the Trail unique and wonderful.


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* 1986 map appeared in Wisconsin's Foundations: A Review of the State's Geology and Its Influence on Geography and Human Activity, by Gwen Schultz, University of Wisconsin Press, 1986.


A version of this article first appeared in the Summer, 2016 edition of Mammoth Tales, a quarterly publication of the Ice Age Trail Alliance.

Wisconsin Hiking Pioneers:Benedict

by Drew Hanson

This is the fifth and final segment in the Wisconsin Hiking Pioneers series.

Fredric “Fritz” Benedict was born in Medford, Wisconsin, in 1914. As a teenager his family moved to Madison.

Benedict went on to study landscape architecture at the University of Wisconsin-Madison (UW) where he was influenced by renowned landscape architect Jens Jensen. UW landscape architecture students of the era were sent to The Clearing, Door County to learn directly from Jensen.

Benedict was active in the Wisconsin Hoofers and elected club president in 1935. His Hoofers experiences brought him under the influence of Harold Bradley.

Benedict's 1938 master’s thesis, Hiking Trails in the Lower Wisconsin River Valley, is a masterpiece in the history of hiking. At its center is a loop trail of approximately 150 miles plus several smaller loops and spurs. More important than the trail route and his detailed description of it is the rigor with which he treats the subject of hiking.

Beginning with broad brush strokes, he states that his thesis is “an attempt to show the needs of hiking in the middle west in general and the Madison area in lower Wisconsin in particular. A detailed study is made of a definite area in Wisconsin and the principles of trail design applied to this area. For some time various individuals in Madison, both in the university and in the city, have felt a need for adequate hiking trails in the interesting driftless area to the west and northwest of Madison. This portion of the lower Wisconsin river basin, with its varied topography, forests, and fields, is as interesting to the hiker as any part of the middle west.”

In deciding the types of uses for which his trail would be designed, Benedict quotes trailblazing conservationists who pointed to humanity's roots: “'The best way to become acquainted with any scenery is to engage in some pursuit in it which harmonizes with it.' — Thoreau. What better way to become harmonized with scenery and the primeval influence than to build a trail and travel along it on foot. Benton Mackaye, originator of the Appalachian Trail, gives an excellent definition of primeval influence: 'Primeval influence is the opposite of machine influence. It is the antidote for over-rapid mechanization. It is getting feet on the ground with eyes toward the sky—not eyes on the ground with feet on the lever. It is feeling what you touch and seeing what you look at. It is the only thing whence first we came and toward which we ultimately live. It is the source of all our knowledge—the open book of which all others are but copies.'”

Not to leave room for interpretation, Benedict provides technical reasons why his southern Wisconsin trail would be primarily for hiking: “No trail built for hiking should be used for horse travel. Horses ordinarily require a wider trail, and they soon ruin the footway and cause an erosional problem in steep sections. It might be possible to use parts of the trail for cross country skiing but in general this sport requires separate trails. Ski trail routes call for more up and down work, elimination of sharp turns and rocky spots, etc.”

One of the photos from Benedict's 1938 master's thesis

Benedict traces the need for hiking trails to the advent of the automobile. As long as there had been roads, people walked them but once automobiles began using the roads, the routes became unpleasant and less safe for pedestrian pursuits. In Benedict’s words, people were “driven off the highways by the automobile.” Add to this the fact that more and more urban dwellers lacked the skills and personal contacts with large rural landowners to take overland walks through the countryside. Thus hiking trails came to be a primary means of providing a primeval influence and physical exercise.

He closes his prophetic introduction by capturing the essence of the hiking problem in the Midwest:

“The biggest hiking seasons are spring and fall. Summer is too hot for many, but some hike all winter. Most hikes are of short duration, a half day or day, with Sundays being the most popular day of the week. In the eastern and western sections of the country are well developed woodland and mountain trails. There are through trails, side trails and connecting trails, resulting in networks that enable hikers to take round trip hikes of practically any duration. Hikers in the middle west are not so fortunate. The few well beaten paths found in our state parks and other scenic areas are usually overcrowded, unplanned and usually too short and unconnected to furnish even a satisfactory half day’s hike. The only way to get off the highways, which are no longer good hiking routes, because of the auto, is to walk through private wood-lots and fields. This method is unsatisfactory for the following reasons: many farmers resent having their lands indiscriminately traveled over; few city people are well enough acquainted with the country to enable them to plan a hike that will lead them through interesting country, past scenic sites, springs, etc.; much of the pleasure of tramping is lost if constant care must be exercised to prevent stumbling over fallen logs and keeping branches out of one’s face. In some places such as on the Baraboo range, it Is possible to hike along logging roads, but these always seem to skirt the high places instead of going right over them.

For the foregoing reasons it is apparent that if the sport of hiking is to prosper and if hikers are to receive fullest enjoyment from their journeys into the out-of-doors, we must build a network of trails such as has been done in the eastern and western parts of our country.”

Trail designers of today might be surprised to discover the technical knowledge that Benedict had amassed in 1938. He describes how, for instance, “Excessive gradient (over 18%) sometimes causes an erosional problem if the trail bed is heavily traveled.” He also shows a sensitivity toward rural landowners that is key to the success of trails in the East and Midwest.

As for the West, he states, “The Pacific Crest Trail system running from Canada and Sierra Nevada ranges for 2,300 miles is routed mainly through national, state, and county parks and forests. For this reason and because of the type of country through which the trail passes, their experience is not so valuable a precedent for us in the middle west as the eastern activity… The long trunk trails have proved most popular in the east, and it is apparent that with the immense objective of a trunk trail, it is much easier to gain enthusiasm and publicity.”

Benedict's 1938 general trail map

Benedict’s proposed trail route includes areas along today’s Ice Age Trail: Cross Plains Reserve, Gibraltar Rock to Merrimac and Devils Lake. In the 1930s, Harold Bradley and others created segments of Benedict's trail through the Baraboo Hills. Most segments, however, were not built. In some cases, such as where Benedict's trail would pass Skillet Creek Falls or a ridge paralleling Madison’s Old Sauk Road, the land has been developed with private homes.

Shortly after earning his master’s degree, Benedict accepted the invitation of eminent architect Frank Lloyd Wright to be head gardener at Taliesen, near Spring Green, Wisconsin. But Benedict’s interest in Wright’s philosophy of the integration of architecture and landscape led him to study design at both Taliesen and Taliesen West in Phoenix, Arizona for the next three years.

Benedict and Frank Lloyd Wright

In 1941, during one of his trips between Taliesen and Taliesen West, Benedict visited Aspen, Colorado for the National Skiing Championships. Less than a year later, he was drafted into the 10th Mountain Division of the U.S. Army and trained at nearby Leadville. After seeing active duty in Italy, he returned to Aspen in 1945 and with other ski troopers became the nucleus for the Colorado ski industry. In the ensuing decades he designed over 200 buildings in the Aspen area and three of the nation’s premier ski areas—Vail, Snowmass and Breckenridge as well as additions to Aspen and Steamboat Springs.

Late in life, Benedict was inducted into the College of Fellows of the American Institute of Architects. The nomination stated that he “left a legendary influence on design and construction in the Rocky Mountain West...(creating) classics of the mountain vernacular.” In 1989 his alma mater bestowed on him its Outstanding Alumnus award.

Significant to the Wisconsin Hiking Pioneers series, another of Benedict’s achievements was his founding of a trail system that was created and exists today. In what must have been an exuberant application of his UW master’s thesis, in 1980 Benedict founded the 10th Mountain Hut and Trail System. Utilizing vast public lands of Colorado, the trail system has grown to include 34 backcountry huts connected by 350 miles of trails.

Postscript

For thousands of years, long-distance trails, like the ancient trail between Prairie du Chien and Milwaukee, kept us in step with part of our humanity. John Wesley Powell’s hike across Wisconsin and John Muir’s thousand-mile trek to the Gulf of Mexico continued the tradition. It is an experience Ray Zillmer wanted to preserve when he championed the Ice Age National Park and Trail. But such inspiring treks will be possible in the future only if the land needed to complete long-distance trails is in the public trust.

More than three-quarters of a century after Benedict predicted “a need for adequate hiking trails,” it remains very difficult to find high-quality, half-day to multi-day hiking trails in southern Wisconsin and more broadly anywhere within three hours of Chicago.

A visionary plan was not enough to allow Benedict's proposed trail to become reality. The Appalachian Trail and nearly every trail in the West prove that having the land needed to construct a trail is more important to its success than plans.

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Sources:

“Aspen’s 20th Century Architecture: Modernism,” http://www.aspenpitkin.com/Portals/0/docs/City/Comdev/HPC/modernismcontextpaperSMALLER.pdf

“Conservation Pioneers: Jens Jensen and The Friends of our Native Landscape,” by William H. Tishler and Erik M. Ghenoiu, Wisconsin Magazine of History, Summer, 2003, p 12.

The Milwaukee Journal, Nov. 10, 1935, section VII., p 2.

The Denver Post, Joanne Ditmer, “Aspen Hall of Fame”.

“Hiking Trails in the Lower Wisconsin River Valley,” by Fredric Allen Benedict, master of science thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1938.

“Hoofer Sailing Club History,” http://www.hoofersailing.org/?q=about/history.

“Hoofers, A History,” http://opo.hoofers.org/node/83.

http://www.historycolorado.org/sites/default/files/files/OAHP/Guides/Architects_benedictF.pdf

Wisconsin Hiking Pioneers:Zillmer

by Drew Hanson

Ray Zillmer left for posterity Wisconsin’s greatest trail, the organization that promotes and protects it and a backpack of conservation and exploration accomplishments.

Although direct evidence of Zillmer meeting previous Wisconsin Hiking Pioneer Harold Bradley is yet to be discovered, interaction between them seems possible if not likely. Except for Zillmer's one year at Harvard, he and Bradley were both at the University of Wisconsin–Madison 1906–1914 (when enrollment ranged between only 2,700–4,500 students) and were both active in similar outdoor pursuits. After completing his PhD, Zillmer moved to Milwaukee where he practiced law until his death in 1960.

During the 1930s–1940s, Zillmer became an accomplished and respected explorer and mountaineer. In 1934 Zillmer was part of a team of five mountaineers who completed the first ascent of Anchorite Peak, British Columbia, Canada. He would go on to summit many other peaks and describe previously uncharted lands.


In the summer of 1938, he and a companion retraced the steps of Alexander MacKenzie's 1793 expedition between the Fraser and Bella Coola rivers, through part of what is today Tweedsmuir South Provincial Park. He described the adventure in detail in his first of four articles published in the Canadian Alpine Journal.

The American Alpine Journal also published several of his exploration and mountaineering articles, including:

• "The Exploration of the Source of the Thompson River in British Columbia", 1940;
• "Exploration of the Northern Monashee Range", 1942;
• "The Location of Mt. Milton and the Restoration of the Names 'Mt. Milton' and 'Mt.Cheadle'", 1943;
• "The Exploration of the Cariboo Range from the East", 1944;
• "The Exploration of the Sources of the McLennan River", 1946.

In recognition of his accomplishments, Mount Zillmer, Zillmer Creek and Zillmer Glacier in British Columbia's Cariboo Range were all named in his honor.

Back in his home state of Wisconsin, through his leadership in the Izaak Walton League, Ray Zillmer led the effort to acquire land for the Kettle Moraine State Forest and founded the Ice Age Trail.

Zillmer's insistence that long, narrow corridors of public land serve greater numbers of outdoor recreationists than western national parks and his proposal for a long-distance hiking trail in Wisconsin made an impression on Wisconsin Governor Gaylord Nelson. Armed with this appreciation and later as a U.S. Senator, Nelson introduced legislation to designate the Appalachian Trail America's first national scenic trail and introduced the National Trails System Act of 1968.

For many years Zillmer led weekend hikes in the Kettle Moraine during fall, winter and early spring. The hikes were memorable for the miles covered as well as the lunch which consisted of various cans of soup brought by fellow hikers, all combined into a single pot.

In the 1950s he worked closely with the Wisconsin Conservation Department (precursor to the DNR) to design backcountry huts for hikers in the Kettle Moraine State Forest. He then donated thousands of dollars to their construction.

In 1958 he established the Ice Age National Park Citizens Committee and the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation, later renamed the Ice Age Trail Alliance. His articles proposing an Ice Age National Park in Wisconsin were published in 1958 by the Milwaukee Public Museum and in 1959 by the Wisconsin Alumnus magazine.

In 1933 the Wisconsin Izaak Walton League named Zillmer "Man of the Year" for his work on the Kettle Moraine State Forest. In 1959 he was presented a plaque by the National Campers and Hikers Association for his efforts to preserve natural areas for public use. A trail system in the Northern Kettle Moraine State Forest is named the Zillmer Trails and a park in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin is named Ray Zillmer Park, both in his honor. He was inducted into the Wisconsin Conservation Hall of Fame in 1993. Today the highest award of achievement given by the Ice Age Trail Alliance is the Ray Zillmer Award.

Following his death in December, 1960 the Milwaukee Journal opined, "...the people of Milwaukee and of Wisconsin and the conservation movement nationally are deeply indebted to Mr. Zillmer. His vision, his boundless energy and his dogged determination in behalf of worthy causes to which he was devoted became legend . . . No community and no state ever has enough of men like Raymond T. Zillmer. And the loss of even one, inevitable as it may be, is cause for deep regret."

Find other articles in the Wisconsin Hiking Pioneers series at http://pedestrianview.blogspot.com/p/wisconsin-hiking-pioneers.html.

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Sources:

Our Greatest Trail, Erik Ness, Wisconsin Trails magazine, April 2002, Vol. 43, No. 2

"Climb Anchorite Peak", The Montreal Gazette, July 23, 1934.

Along Wisconsin's Ice Age Trail, 2008, page 8.

"Scorning A Glacial Gift", The Milwaukee Journal, August 21, 1988.

"Origins of Wisconsin's Ice Age Trail", Sarah Mittlefeldht, Wisconsin Magazine of History: Volume 90, number 3, spring 2007, page 7.

These American Lands, Dyan Zaslowsky and T.H. Watkins, 1994, pages 258-259.

http://www.iceagetrail.org/iata/history/

"The Wisconsin Glacier National Forest Park", Lore, Milwaukee Public Museum, vol 8, edition 2, 1958.

"Wisconsin’s Proposed Ice Age National Park", Wisconsin Alumnus, March, 1959

American Alpine Club, http://publications.americanalpineclub.org/articles/12196134700/print

Zillmer Begins to Map the Southern Cariboos

by Drew Hanson

This is the second in a series of articles about Ray Zillmer’s pioneer mountaineering exploits in the Canadian Rockies. Ice Age Trail fans know Zillmer as the Milwaukee attorney who in 1958 founded the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation which became the Ice Age Trail Alliance. Each article in the series enlarges our picture of his rugged approach to wilderness travel by summarizing one of his papers that were published in the Canadian Alpine Journal. This one is based on Exploration of the Southern Cariboos which appeared in 1939.

Zillmer's own words offer the best place to begin. “This was my seventh back-pack trip in the mountains of Alberta and British Columbia. On two previous trips I went alone, and on the others I was accompanied by another amateur who was inexperienced in mountain backpack trips. This year Lorin Tiefenthaler, my companion on the Mackenzie trail, was again with me, and he has put an end, once and for all, to the comment of my friends that ‘no one goes with Zillmer a second time.’ We planned to carry everything ourselves, without help or re-provisioning. The food was measured in the exact amounts required for the thirteen days. We carried only that which was absolutely necessary—2-pound sleeping bags, a very small tent, no firearms, no camp axe, no change of clothing except socks and underwear. But as we planned to make a plane table survey and to cross the icefields, we carried, in addition to our normal load, the equipment for the survey together with a primus stove, a gallon of gasoline, and climbing equipment. We planned to go up the valley of the Thompson from the point where it leaves the Canadian National Railways at the flag stop, Gosnell. The vicinity is unsurveyed and the only maps are based on sketches made by prospectors or trappers”.

Ray Zillmer on the Azure-Thompson Divide

“I had given thought to this trip for two years, studied plane table surveying, read all the material on the country that I could find, and carried on a considerable correspondence relative to it. I learned little about this part of the Cariboos, being quite surprised to hear from the trapper of the Canoe valley that he ‘had not been to the extreme head of the Canoe,’ and from others that they had never been at the head of the Thompson. I surmised that there must be a good reason for this.”

The first documented trek through the southern Cariboo Mountains was in 1871. Seven other expeditions explored the area in the intervening years, two of which included geologist R. T. Chamberlin—another man with Wisconsin ties. R. T. Chamberlin was the son of famed geologist Thomas Chamberlin who was an unwitting Ice Age Trail pioneer.

As had been arranged for Zillmer and Tiefenthaler, upon disembarking the train they met “Miss Ella Frye”, the licensed trapper of the upper Thompson River. They spent a night at her cabin of which Zillmer wrote, “On the wall of her cabin was the hide of a grizzly which she had shot a few miles up the trail we were to take in the morning. We plied her with questions for several hours, and her knowledge of the valley was of great help to us. She helped us even more, however, by insisting that we take the only mosquito netting she had. That was the one thing we needed most, yet we had forgotten it. She gave us a gasoline can, for ours was leaking. And she offered us a rifle which we declined. An old friend could not have been kinder to us.”

The next morning was July 3, 1939. Zillmer’s description of the next few days needs no editorializing. “For thirty and a half miles we followed the rough and heavily overgrown trail up the north and east side of the Thompson, to a point where it crossed to the other side of the stream. It took us four and a quarter days of strenuous travel to reach the crossing. It rained a lot and we were always wet, either from the rain or from the dripping willows, alders, and parsnip, through which we forced our way, or from the tall nettle and Devil’s club growth, through which we walked with hands raised high. Only when we crawled into our sleeping bags were we dry. It was wasted effort to dry our shoes or clothing, for we would only be thoroughly soaked again shortly after we started walking. I had trouble seeing, for my glasses were covered with the water or the debris from the bushes we pushed through.”

“At times the trail was so overgrown that we could not even see it, although we were on it. On such occasions we kept on it only by feeling for and following the trail’s depression of several inches. But this frequently resulted in our stumbling or falling when we stepped into holes or against small stones or logs we could not see. We forded the many branches of the Thompson and crossed many mud holes, and marshes often covered with water.”

“A day was lost through an injury to my left leg. Late on the first day of our trip the trail led to an area 150 to 200 yards in diameter, which was cluttered with several large and many small fallen trees. With my attention focused on looking for the trail while I was walking on a fallen tree seven or eight feet above the ground, I suddenly lost my balance and was compelled to jump. I was carrying my heavy sixty-pound pack and I crashed through the debris and undergrowth a foot or so. Only the next day did I realize that I had injured the tendons in my left leg. I suffered the next few days, not because of the very painful leg, but because of the mental anguish over the thought that I might have to give up the trip. But my leg improved on the fifth day, and I could again travel at a faster gait.”

“I had trouble opening my eyes on the morning of the second day, and when Lorin looked at me he said: ‘No wonder. Your eyes are almost closed from the mosquito bites. And you look as though you had small pox.’”

“On the morning of the fifth day we arrived at the crossing of the Thompson. For the first time, the weather had begun to clear.”

At this point the tandem faced several options. Zillmer described each choice within the historical context of their predecessors’ expeditions. They ended up choosing the option which involved fording an ice-cold stream back and forth. Eventually they reached a ford which was deeper and swifter than the rest. Zillmer wrote, “Lorin crossed rather easily, but he was six inches taller than I.” On Zillmer’s second attempt, “after standing a few seconds, though they seemed hours, I was thrown over, pack and all, on my back into the fast water. But the very strong current fortunately threw me quickly across to the other side of the stream, with no injury except a slightly skinned finger, in spite of the many rocks in the river.” They soon set camp.

Click on Zillmer's sketch map to see enlarged image

In the morning they began their exploration of the Thompson River headwaters and adjacent basins. For the next week they enjoyed good weather while they mapped this previously uncharted area and documented the sources of several rivers. They were afforded commanding views from the hand-full of peaks they summitted. They reveled in floral alpine meadows, described mountain goat, caribou and marmot and surveyed several glaciers.

Their time drawing to a close, it took three days to hike out. Of reaching the trailhead, Zillmer wrote, “We now weighed thirty pounds less. In spite of bushwacking, mosquitoes, rain, mud, and marshes, we are ‘rarin’ to go back to the Cariboos.”

Ray Zillmer Retraces an Ancient Trail through British Columbia

by Drew Hanson

Most people know of Ray Zillmer as the father of the Ice Age Trail and founder of the Ice Age Trail Alliance. Fewer know that he was a prominent Milwaukee attorney, leader of the Izaak Walton League and instrumental in the State’s purchase of lands for the Kettle Moraine State Forest. In this article, we see another side of this amazing person: as an accomplished backpacker, mountaineer and outdoorsman.

After reading the diary of the explorer Alexander Mackenzie, Ray Zillmer later wrote, “There was always with me the thought that I must take the overland pack trip of Mackenzie.” The 1792-93 journey Mackenzie and his nine comrades took across Canada was the first recorded transcontinental crossing of North America north of Mexico—twelve years prior to Lewis and Clark’s voyage of discovery.

The area of Mackenzie’s travels that most captured Zillmer’s imagination was in the mountains of western Canada. Since there were no guidebooks of the route and not even large scale topographic maps of the area, Zillmer wrote letters to all who might have useful information to help him plan a trip through the still wild country. He found scant reliable news. The manager of a remote lodge near Bella Coola wrote, “This is an extremely arduous trip, the trails are not well defined and the country only very thinly populated by Indians.”

At roughly 250 miles, the route crossed the Telegraph Range, Nechako Plateau, Coast Mountains and parts of present-day Tweedsmuir and Kluskoil Lake provincial parks. No one since Mackenzie had duplicated his route.

Ray Zillmer

During the 1930s-40s, Ray Zillmer built an impressive mountaineering resume in British Columbia. He joined the Canadian Alpine Club in 1931 and solo hiked around the Drummond and St. Bride glaciers in 1933. In 1937, he and a Swiss alpinist set-up a temporary base camp for 30 climbers on the snow-slopes of Mt. Collie at 9500 feet. For 1938, he made it his mission to retrace the footsteps of Mackenzie on an ancient trail between the Fraser and Bella Coola rivers.

Lorin Tiefenthaler

Accompanying Zillmer would be a young Lorin Tiefenthaler, also of Milwaukee. Zillmer described him as, “more than six feet in height, over two hundred pounds in weight, strong, healthy, considerably younger than I, and a splendid companion. He had never been in the western mountains before and was without any experience in backpacking, but he learned quickly.”

Zillmer’s description of their journey was published in the 1938 Canadian Alpine Journal—the primary source for this article.

The two men set out from Prince George, British Columbia on June 28, 1938. One of Zillmer’s “greatest concerns was to locate the Mackenzie trail where it left the Fraser”. After some searching, they found, “a faint trail. It was 4.30 p.m., we were not in condition, our packs were at their heaviest, and the way to the plateau above was very steep, and, just as Mackenzie did, we found the next hour the hardest on our trip. Hereafter we were to have many experiences such as Mackenzie related in his diary.”

Ray Zillmer's hand-drawn map of his 1938 trek

Chief among the similarities was the scarcity of water. While they could sometimes see lakes and rivers in the distance, they found little water to drink during their first few days. The first night they found only “a small, stagnant, shallow pool among the trees. It was full of debris, mosquito larvae, and tasted of decaying vegetable matter. I strained it through a clean cloth and drank it. Lorin could not bring himself to drinking it. We had only soup and apricots. We expected to be sick that night from the water. However, we slept well, and the next morning we enjoyed a meal cooked with this water.”

There were important differences between the Zillmer and Mackenzie expeditions as well. “Whereas Mackenzie travelled with Indians most of the time, met them almost every day, and learned the route from them. We saw no Indians until the twelfth day, and no whites on the entire trip.”

Another difference was the forest. During Mackenzie’s time, the route was well established by trading between interior and coastal people. But Zillmer found, “there was much more timber than in the time of Mackenzie, so that we had almost no open views. This made the task of following the route more difficult.”

Near their crossing of the Euchiniko River, for instance, they faced several confusing route options. Hours later it turned out they chose the wrong option. Zillmer recounted, “For less than a day we had been off his trail, but now we were on it again.”

They carried no gun but Zillmer did have a fishing pole. On their second evening of fishing for their supper Zillmer wrote, “With a casting rod of which the top section was missing, and a small bass plug, I fished three pools adjoining fast water. Approximately twenty casts netted fifteen bites and ten rainbows weighing about two pounds each. On one cast I caught two fish on the two hooks of the plug. I never fished after that for it was too easy, and besides, we did not have time for it.”

Along the way there was a lupine-rich alpine meadow, traversing a one-foot ledge across a cliff, views of snow-capped peaks, part of a day negotiating three canyons, several waterfalls and other trials great and small.

Of the final days of the trek, Zillmer wrote of the downward descent, “our toes were constantly pressed against the front of our shoes. As a consequence, both of us lost the nails of our big toes. Our feet were badly swollen and blistered. Lorin lost thirty-two pounds and I fourteen. However, we had not experienced cold weather as we had expected from Mackenzie’s account.”

On their 16^th day, they reached Bella Coola where they recuperated for a week. Taking special comfort from a rustic Tweedsmuir Lodge, Zillmer wrote, “Our clothes were rags, so we wore clothes kindly loaned us until we were again completely outfitted a few days later. I have always wanted English flannels and here in this outpost I got them, and they were altered to fit me by a daughter of a pioneer settler of the valley, a settler who had come from Wisconsin, my own state.”

Shenandoah and Kettle Moraine Diverge

by Drew Hanson

Envisioned to be roughly the same length and shape and created at almost the same time, Shenandoah National Park and the Kettle Moraine State Forest have different conservation legacies. Why?

Shenandoah National Park

Shenandoah National Park encompasses part of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. The National Park Service owns a continuous corridor of land for the park, stretched along a long and narrow ribbon of ridges. See a map of the park here. Significant to the question of this article, it includes a 101-mile segment of the Appalachian Trail.

Shenandoah was authorized by Congress in 1926 and fully established on December 26, 1935. Prior to being a park, much of the area was farmland. The State of Virginia acquired the land through eminent domain and then gave it to the Federal Government provided it would be designated a National Park.

Most of the people displaced for the park left their homes quietly. According to the Virginia Historical Society, eighty-five-year-old Hezekiah Lam explained, "I ain't so crazy about leavin' these hills but I never believed in bein' ag'in (against) the Government. I signed everythin' they asked me." (Source: Wikipedia) The lost communities and homes were a price paid for one of the jewels of our National Park System.

Northern Kettle Moraine State Forest

Near the end of the most recent Ice Age, a 100-mile long series of morainal ridges formed between two immense lobes of glacial ice in what is now southeast Wisconsin. Nineteenth century geologists named the belt the Kettle Moraine. Due to its rocky soils and steep slopes, the Kettle Moraine turned out to be ill-suited for farming. With flooding downstream becoming a problem, the Izaak Walton League purchased the first 800 acres in the Kettle Moraine in 1926. Eight years later the State Planning Board recommended the entire scenic belt of glacial ridges be purchased for a public conservation and recreation area. The Kettle Moraine State Forest was established in 1937 albeit in two separate, North and South purchase units.

Conservation leaders like Ray Zillmer kept up the drum beat of pressure to acquire the connecting corridor between the North and South units of the State Forest. In 1942, the Milwaukee Chapter of the Izaak Walton League adopted the report, “The Wisconsin Glacial Moraines”. A couple years later, the Wisconsin Division of the Izaak Walton League adopted a similar resolution.

In a July 1, 1948 letter to Oscar Rennebohm, Acting Governor of Wisconsin, Ray Zillmer introduced himself and the Kettle Moraine State Forest: “I have given a great deal of my time to the Kettle Moraine project. I have given 34 addresses to over 2,000 people, and I know how the people feel about it. I would like you to give consideration to extending the purchase area so that the northern and southern areas are connected to form a line 100 miles long. As far as the State of Wisconsin is concerned, this will be one of your most important acts. I consider my own efforts in the promotion of this project the most important contribution in my life.”

After receiving a response from the Acting Governor, two weeks later Zillmer replied: “Your letter shows that you have a very good knowledge of the Kettle Moraine project. Personally, I believe it will perform a greater service to the people of Wisconsin than any other projects which are more expensive. The war demonstrated that so many of our young men are not physically fit. We need more outdoor projects where we can retain health by normal exercise of the body. I believe it is urgent to extend the Kettle Moraine area at the very earliest opportunity. It will make possible the purchase of many tracts not now available. The connection of isolated tracts with larger areas will gradually take form.”

In spite of these and many other calls for the protection of the Kettle Moraine corridor, there were set-backs. Zillmer addressed one loss in a December 28, 1948 letter to Ernest Swift, Director of the Wisconsin Conservation Department. Regarding a Mr. Froedert, who sold his property to a developer for twice what the State was offering to include the property in the Kettle Moraine State Forest, Zillmer wrote, “I want you to know that I was utterly disgusted with Mr. Froedert; perhaps more sorry for him than anything else, because he has, in his struggle for wealth, lost all social values”. Lamenting the loss of enchanting Blue Spring on the property, he wrote, “In its original form, the Palmyra Blue Spring, was known in southeastern Wisconsin as one of the most unusual, natural phenomenon. It was a very active pool of a beautiful blue color and so active as to simulate the pools in Yellowstone National Park. It was a place which, in its original condition, could have been developed into a pilgrimage spot for nature lovers. This has been spoilt by the damming of the waters.”

Ten years later, Zillmer founded the Ice Age Park and Trail Foundation (later re-named Ice Age Trail Alliance) to promote and assist in the creation of an Ice Age National Park.

Another fifty years later, there remains no 100-mile segments of the Ice Age Trail (none are even half that long) and the Kettle Moraine State Forest never became a continuous corridor of public land like Shenandoah National Park.

What happened? Why did the 100-mile continuous corridor of public land for Shenandoah National Park achieve success but the Kettle Moraine State Forest (and Ice Age Trail) did not? Did Mountain Majesty Bias have an effect? Is it because eminent domain was used to acquire the land at Shenandoah but in only rare instances for the Kettle Moraine State Forest? A friend said to me, "Maybe Virginians care more about their unique and beautiful landscapes than Wisconsinites?"

What do you think?

A Daily Walk

For fifteen years, I walked, biked or bused to and from work every day. For ten of those years it was a two mile commute. On weekends and vacations, I usually hiked. I was fit.

For the past two years, I have been driving my daughter across the city to a great Waldorf school--a commute that takes 20-30 minutes (longer if we have fresh snow). I want the best for my daughter and I love her school, but the commute is taking a toll on me. My days include too much sitting and breathing the exhaust of the car(s) in front of me. I am not fit and I long for more outdoor exercise that is part of each day.

There was a great story on NPR yesterday that really struck a chord. I especially liked the parts, "We've engineered walking out of our existence and everyday life" and "I've walked myself into my best thoughts". Read or listen to the article here.

A related realm the NPR article did not explore is how Americans also spend too much of their free time being sedentary. Ray Zillmer foresaw this problem more than fifty years ago. On March 2, 1956 Zillmer wrote, "The free time, which people have and which is increasing, should be used in a constructive way, ... so that they will use their body instead of watching other people use theirs." A few years later he left these prophetic words in his will: "I believe that there is a great danger that the physical condition of our people will gradually deteriorate because of the increased use of ingenious labor saving devices."

My daughter will be of kindergarten age this autumn. As I evaluate various school options for her and try to create a plan for our next decade-plus, I hope to design a life for us that includes daily walking and other physical activities in the outdoors. I think we will be happier and healthier. Someday I'll write about it to tell you how it's going.