Hiking Hartland Marsh and the Ice Age Trail

The Bark River

Spring was still trying to catch up from our unseasonably cold April last week. But this day dawned brightly and suddenly turned unseasonably hot. Shedding jackets, a dozen or so of us gathered at the Cottonwood Wayside for a hike into Hartland Marsh led by Jeff Romagna, a volunteer with the Ice Age Trail Alliance.

Hartland Marsh Preserve is nestled between the Lake Country Industrial Park and the Gleason Commerce Center in Hartland. Its 180 acres is protected by the Waukesha County Land Conservancy in partnership with the Ice Age Trail Alliance and the Village of Hartland. The Bark River meanders through the middle of it, somewhere out where we couldn’t see it from the Wayside.

Our tour began on a mulched path, known as the John Muir Overlook, through a hardwood forest featuring ancient bur oaks. The trail narrowed, then led to a boardwalk across the marsh and over a small wooded island. 

Birds were plentiful, it being migration season. This is a rose-breasted grosbeak.

Another boardwalk looped through last year’s cattails and back to the forest. Here the trail was hemmed in with thickets of buckthorn. 

Most of the preserve has a far more open understory and the difference was striking. Jeff, our guide, introduced us to Paul Mozina, known as The Buckthorn Man, whose volunteer efforts have been largely responsible for removing this particularly obnoxious invasive species. Along with being more aesthetically pleasing to hike through, the cleared portions enable a more robust diversity of native species to flourish.

Across an open field we watched as a pair of sandhill cranes shepherded two chicks away from us towards a pond.

A side trail led us through a beautiful glade, over a hill and across the Bark River on a footbridge to another small island. Paul pointed out the many natural springs around the two hills that had led to its being a homestead, now vanished.

Four more sandhill cranes watched us warily from the marsh, their colors a nearly perfect match with the dead cattails. Can you spot all four?

According to the Ice Age Trail Alliance, wetland preserves like this are becoming more and more important as land is developed and urbanized. Wetlands serve critical ecological functions that help maintain environmental health as well as sustaining wildlife habitats.

Hickory sapling in bloom

By absorbing rainwater and nutrients, a marsh helps reduce flooding, prevents shoreline erosion along waterways, recharges groundwater, and enhances water quality.

Preserves like this one also provide opportunities for recreation, research and education, serving as both a laboratory and outdoor classroom for students and teachers.

The John Muir Overlook is a 1¼-mile loop linked (across Cottonwood Avenue) to the Hartland segment of the National Ice Age Scenic Trail. We hiked east along a portion of the trail until we reached the Aldo Leopold Overlook. The 45-foot tall glacial hill—which could be an esker or a moraine, according to Jeff—gave us views of the surrounding marsh. As we turned to go, a pair of brilliant white egrets sailed in to land on an open pond.

Tree huggers! It took three to reach around this enormous oak.

Jackson Marsh: A Wildlife Area for all seasons

Jackson Swamp, photo by Noah Froh

If you are looking for a place to get away from it all one of the many DNR wildlife areas in Southeast Wisconsin might be just the thing. Let me introduce you to Jackson Marsh Wildlife Area, which is located just east of the Village of Jackson in Washington County, a mere 25 miles from Milwaukee.

At 2,312 acres, the property is large enough to support a variety of terrains and habitats, including wetlands, grasslands, woodlots, streams and small ponds. Cedar Creek, a 32-mile long tributary of the Milwaukee River, runs the length of the property. In wet weather—including winter thaws like those we’ve had recently—the main creek and its feeder streams may spill over their banks and pool in the surrounding wetlands. Some trails, which are generally found atop dikes that crisscross the wetlands, can be inundated at these times.

The core of the Wildlife Area is 1,571-acre Jackson Swamp, which is designated as a State Natural Area. This section features wet silver maple forest and white cedar and tamarack swamp, habitats that are more typical of northern Wisconsin. The Wisconsin State Natural Areas Program has been called “the nation’s largest and most successful statewide

nature preserve system.” * The program’s mission is to protect outstanding examples of Wisconsin's native landscape, including natural habitats, geological formations and archeological sites, and to provide refuge for rare plants and animals.

This story was published in my column at Milwaukee Magazine. Click here to continue reading. 

Cedar Creek, Photo by Noah Froh

Edible wild plants: A guided tour at Theresa Marsh

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Theresa Marsh State Wildlife Area is not small. From County Highway 28, which cuts across the northern end of it, a vast sea of cattails stretches nearly to the horizon. I’d never heard of it, however, until I went there recently for a hike led by Dianne Robinson, a naturalist with the Wisconsin DNR.

Sandhill cranes

I’ve seen the Wildlife Area before—many times in fact. It is adjacent to Interstate 41, which I’ve driven often on my way to points north. But the small wooden sign identifying the marsh has escaped my notice and the wetland is out of sight from the freeway, beyond a tree line.

Hunters know the area though. That was easy to tell and not only from the numerous signs indicating where they could and couldn’t hunt. I wasn’t there long before a group of hunters came out of the marsh with two canoes and two brace of enormous-looking goose carcasses.

But I wasn’t there to hunt. I joined about a dozen other folks who came to learn about edible wild plants. The “hike” turned out to be a short stroll along the dirt road leading to a gravel parking area next to the marsh. The edible plants we found there were mostly very common ones like dandelions, yarrow, chicory and even cattails. Believe it or not, cattails produce more edible starch per acre than any other green plant! Whoa. Who knew? (Well, the U. S. Army did. There was a plan to use the plant for the war effort during World War II, according to a website called “Eat the Weeds.”)

As you might expect, the edible parts of many wild plants don’t often look like recognizable foods, except for berries and salad-like leafy greens. The most obviously food-like plant we found was wild grape. Although smaller than commercially grown blueberries, let alone grapes, they hang in clusters just as you can imagine.

Clusters of wild grape on the vine

The other thing about edible plants is they tend not to be photogenic, especially when the edible parts are underground as with wild parsnip. We learned that if we were to dig up the root it would look very much like the ones in the grocery store. However, although it has an edible root, wild parsnip is better left untouched. If broken open it oozes a chemical that can cause severe, painful burns when exposed to the sun. The resulting blisters can leave long-lasting scars.

I did manage to get some photographs of a few of the plants, edible or not, as well as of the surrounding landscape. Robinson, our guide, said that her primary purpose in offering the hike was not so much to educate people about the plants as to acquaint us with the marsh. I am following that lead. She told us that, unlike most parks and except for sections designated as refuges, you are free to wander around off trail in wildlife areas such as this one. (I would be cautious about that during hunting season, though! Wear bright colors.)

Robinson with milkweed, the fresh shoots of which are edible. The sap of the plant, however, is toxic. “I would never eat any plant in the wild unless I knew it was safe.” Robinson repeated this advice like a mantra every now and then during the hike. Milkweed, of course, is a well-known food source for monarch butterflies if not humans.

 

The berries of the hawthorn are edible, if you can safely pick them from among the seriously threatening thorns! And then, after you have braved your way through the thorns to grab a handful of ripe berries you must remember to spit out the seeds. They contain cyanide. Yes. Deadly. (See Robinson’s advice, above.)

The Rock River spills out of Theresa Marsh at the point where we were hiking along the road. Across the wetland surrounding the river we could make out the rooftops of Theresa Station.

The tiny unincorporated hamlet consists of a dozen or so buildings along a dead-end road leading to, yes, a railroad. I assume it once had a station.

Smartweed, which grows in and near the wetter places, blooms from June through September. Not edible but pretty, said Robinson. Eat the Weeds claims it is in fact edible, but so strong and spicy as to not being worth the effort—like eating “a piece of burning paper.”

Robinson holds up a wild cucumber. The name might easily fool you into thinking it is edible. The spiky “cucumber” is a seedpod and is as inedible as it appears! 

Considering our topic, I should note that foraging for certain types of edibles, such as berries, nuts, and mushrooms, is legal on state lands like this. You are not allowed to harvest other parts of plants, including seeds and roots. The official guide is on the DNR website.

On my way back to Milwaukee after the tour ended I found another lovely view of the marsh beneath a sky dotted with Georgia O’Keeffe clouds. Widely dispersed clumps of brown-eyed Susans and goldenrod appeared almost to mirror the stippled sky. If you want to go there, Theresa Marsh State Wildlife Area is just off Interstate 41 between Highway D and Highway 28 and only a few miles east of its more famous neighbor, Horicon Marsh.

Photo essay: Beulah Bog State Natural Area

This 78-acre preserve near East Troy is mostly a series of kettle depressions that contain the bog. A short, hilly upland trail leads to a boardwalk in the largest kettle. The boardwalk winds through lovely tamaracks and terminates at the only open water.

 I was unaware of Beulah Bog until recently when my friend Kimberly Mackowski told me about it and then showed me how to get there. Kimberly has a website and blog called The Park Next Door. You can see her photos of Beulah Bog by clicking here.

Somber skies and solitude at Schlitz Audubon Nature Center

View of the lake from the bluff-top observation tower

Snow lingers on north-facing slopes and the shadowy parts of the forest. Out in the open the meadows and prairies are mostly bare and brown. It is that time of the year when the land is lusterless. If you pay close attention, there are small signs of spring here and there. Pussy willow catkins have fuzzed out and there are a few more bird calls than I've been hearing on my winter walks. But, especially on this overcast day, the mood is somber.

Pussy willow catkins

On this moody Saturday morning at the cusp of spring there are a half-dozen or so cars in the parking lot of the Schlitz Audubon Nature Center. But the great room of the main building is quieter than usual. As I walk the trails I see surprisingly few people. I am having a blast, however. I love the solitude. And the monochromatic landscape offers up enough photographic opportunities to satisfy my appetite. Here is what I found.

A log tepee within sight of the main building.

The tracks of a pair of geese leading into a large puddle of melting snow.

As if herding together, intermingled tracks of geese, humans and a couple of other creatures.

Birches in one of the ravines.

Ice shrinking to the edges of the ponds and wetlands.

Shriveled leaves still clinging to branches, looking so out of place that I was reminded of the Cornelia Parker sculpture of suspended chunks of chalk at the Milwaukee Art Museum.

Many dead trunks and limbs that have provided a feast for the woodpeckers.

Flattened reeds, like a natural tapestry, between the bluff and the beach.

Sand embedded in curiously shaped ice formations at the base of beachfront shrubbery.

A single fellow traveler enjoying the solitude of the urban wilderness.