Wandering

 This weekend was an impromtu girls weekend. The girls being me and Chili Uno.... Since she fits nicely in the new car, I packed her up along with a little camping gear and headed toward Cable and some trails. Friday evening, we did a quick loop of my first CAMBA trail, Rock Lake, and then headed to our campsite for a low maintenance, high-fat dinner to fuel up for some exploring on Saturday.

Who needs a grill?

 Thankfully Big E had warned me of CAMBA's remoteness so I set out well-prepared (for once) on Saturday. I had my lighter, lots of food, tools, toilet paper, maps....

Unfortunately, there was a gap between my maps somewhere around 20 miles in, where I was trying to cut from one trail to another. Of course, I got curious and followed some CAMBA signs and ended up "misplaced." Thankfully, I still had my sense of direction and knew if I headed north, I'd find a road that headed to my next trailhead.  Along the way, I also found a little something (or somewhere) else......

Excellent, now I always have a reason to have a margarita!

Of course, I'll admit, my sense of direction only lasted so long and I spent most of miles 20-40 misplaced and then replaced and then misplaced again.  It's hard to look at the map too long when you're being attacked by mosquitoes....

Mile 40ish brought me back to some familiar territory and since I had over 20 miles to go and dusk was approaching, I figured I should head back and bring this adventure to a close for the day.

I have no idea why I thought I the adventure was coming to a close. Maybe because I finally knew where I was? Maybe because I was too tired to think straight? Who knows. All I know is this- as is usually the case, when I thought my adventure was ending it was just starting.  I was, even though I knew my location, entering what the map called "one of the most remote places in Wisconsin." 

Did I mention it was dusk?

You can probably imagine what happened next. Yes, that's right, the animals came out. I was cruising along, feeling confident that I knew where I was going and there it was- a big cat on the trail. I could only hope it was a bobcat since the only other option was a young mountain lion, which would likely mean Mama would eat me in seconds. 

It scampered off. I started sprinting, hoping there was no mama. Two miles down the trail, I was still sprinting, looking over my shoulder every few seconds, when I encountered a large pile of bear poop.

Excellent. Now there's a bear and a cat and it's getting dark and I'm alone and not very big.

A mile later, heart still racing, I came across the remains of a large bird. The meat was gone. Only feathers remained. 

Terrific. Now there's a bear and a cat and some kind of bird murderer and it's getting dark and I'm alone and not very big.

Needless to say, I discovered I can sprint 7 miles of trail when I really need to. Turns out, there are things that frighten me more than being chased by a dog on a gravel road.

After refueling with more hot dogs Saturday night, I decided to stick to less remote territory on Sunday.

Miles and miles of this.

Too bad I didn't bring my hot dogs...

Not that I don't like to explore the remote stuff, but I can only sprint from the wild animals so much in one weekend.....