Devil's Lake Wisconsin
This is our second trip here. Devil's Lake State Park has been voted as one of the top ten state parks in the country by the people using the Reserve America system. It truly is a beautiful park unique in scenery and diversity. There are the rock formations left over from the ice age. Beautiful bluffs and majestic hills overlooking serene rural scenes of central Wisconsin. And of course there is the lake. It is a spring fed lake created by melting of the glacial ice. Today it is preserved by allowing no motorized boats except electric trolling motors. You can sit and watch sail boats drifting across the lake and see the many kayaks and canoes without hearing the annoying hum and roar of the jet skis and bass boats. An added bonus is that the park is very close to the town
of Baraboo so if you want to slip in for a meal or have forgotten something it is convenient. We have benefit of having good friends who live in Baraboo who had offered to take us on a tour of the area tomorrow.
I decided to take route 33 across instead of the interstate since we had just driven the interstate and we had plenty of time. This is one of the prettiest drives in our state and goes past the Horicon Marsh, through the town of Horicon, Beaver Dam, Portage, and Baraboo. Along with several other smaller villages and clusters of homes. We stopped in Beaver dam for lunch at a nice Mexican restaurant which is becoming a yearly tradition. We had stopped here before and enjoyed the service and food. We pigged out on the buffet and were satisfied for the entire day. Our next stop was a fruit farm for corn, veggies and of course fruit. We love to stop along the way and
pick up the local fresh crops. The young lady told me that the corn came from Kentucky, the tomatoes from Indiana, the melons from Texas and she was not sure about the grapes. I felt it better to buy them from here than drive all the way to those various locations to get it fresh from them. Plus we only had three days.
We arrived at the park just in time to check in and got directions to our site. It was # 705. Strange that the camp park only had 450 camp sites and the numbers only went up to 450 and we had 705! Who was I to question? I followed the directions and drove east then west turned right then left. I found the loop with number 400 and went all the way around it to 450 and back to 400. Then I found another loop that said 300 and followed that one. It too was a nice loop. And then right there in front of me was a site with a number of 704! I with my powers of deductions deduced that 705 would be next to it but I could not turn that way it was one way. So I went around the loop and there it was, right next to 312, 705. Made perfect sense to someone. In this park there are five handicap spots and for some reason an administrator had numbered them all in the seven hundreds and not in sequence with the spots they adjoin. We unhitched our little trailer and pushed it aside and I backed Chummy into his spot and then I worked magic with the four levers which level him out. Next I went outside to plug him in, pull down the awning and remember that I forgot to fill the water tank. In reverse order I put the awning back up, unplugged Chummy and erased the leveling magic. Fran said she would stay back and unload the little trailer. I wound my way through the maze of numbered camp sites and found the water filler up spot, pulled Chummy up close, opened the water door, turned on the water and watched it drip into the fifty gallon tank. Thirty minutes later the water was still dripping in, thirty- five minutes later and I heard that satisfying gurgle of a full tank. I closed and locked the door, climbed aboard Chummy, warmed him back up and went in search of our site. When I eventually found it again there was Fran leaning against the trailer tapping her left foot, not a good sign. I backed Chummy in again, once more did my magic with the four levers of level and shut him down. I went outside to see about the foot-tapping and was told about the condition of the camp site. It seems that the prior occupants had left a few surprises for us, like a table full of rotting fruit, garbage bags hung up in trees, a fire ring stuffed full of cans and potatoes, and tissues over the visible landscape. I suggested we talk with the campground host. She informed me that she tried but the man was so old he was unable to hear or comprehend what she was saying. I saw a somewhat younger person at the host site and wandered over only to be told that our site was clean and she had inspected it herself! So here we were with two hosts one blind and the other deaf. We asked to see a ranger and she said only after 6:00 PM. This park seemed to have some very strict rules on how you could complain about having a dirty campsite. We started to clean the site the best we could without a rake or shovel it was hard. By time the ranger arrived at a little after 6:00 PM we did have things looking pretty good. The ranger pulled up in a ranger truck and announced: "ranger here." Fran and I walked around Chummy and saw only this young girl dressed up in a green uniform holding a bucket. I looked around for the ranger thinking her father was behind and that maybe it was "take your daughter to work day." However, I saw no one else in the immediate vicinity and then she introduced herself as the ranger! I took a good look at her and then saw she was wearing a belt which had among other things a gun on it. My first thought was to ask her if her parents knew she was playing with guns? My second thought was that maybe she was some kind of child prodigy. Never did it occur to me that she could be old enough to actually be a ranger. She was definitely younger than my daughter and my daughter is well she is only thirty. I decided that maybe this was the young girl's first day on the job so I needed to be nice. I politely explained the problem and she politely set about cleaning up the place. For one that appeared so young she was very professional, took command of the situation, and had things well under control in no time flat. Soon we had nothing to complain about and were making our evening meal. She must be a prodigy. Later that night we were sitting in our new screen house playing Scrabble when I noticed that the wood pile was on fire. Somehow a spark must of flew out and started the entire wood stack on fire! We ran over and started to separate the logs which were burning from those which were not. Fortunately we caught it in time before the entire forest went up in blazes. I would hate to have to explain that to the nice young ranger. At this time we decided we had had enough excitement for one day and we went to bed.
Friday morning we were up early since our friends said they would pick us up at 8:00 to take a tour of the area. At 9:00 they still had not shown up, nor had they answered their cell phone. 9:15 they pull up with a tale about not being able to find camp site # 705. They had even stopped for directions and were given a bum steer so to speak. If I ever have to escape from jail I am going to reserve this spot and hide out at site #705. Our tour was lovely. We saw a grotto dedicated to those who needed to flee Europe after the Communist occupation. A plaque stated that those forced from their homes after World War II due to Communist take over of their governments were the real victims of the war. They also recognized the American Indian, and those forced to immigrate for religious freedom as people worthy of remembrance. Interesting to me was that they did not mention the millions of Jews who were forced from their homes and killed, or the modern day economic immigration of third world people to support their families. Aside from these omissions the builder of this grotto certainly was a person of faith who believed in his mission.
Our next stop was a cheese factory in Plain, WI. This place is unique in that it recycles its water by using a biological method to grow plants with the waste water. By the time the water has been cycled through the containers of plants it is clear and can be sent back into a local creek. Ingenious system and with the added benefit of being able to grow the plants. They also ship off their "waste" whey product to be made into butter. This is the best tasting butter I have ever had! We loaded up on cheese and butter and took off to visit the local Roman Catholic Church. Right here in Plain, WI with a population of 771 is a church that serves a Friday fish fry for several thousand people each month. The money is poured back into the church building and it is quite spectacular. Our friends told us that the meal is done totally by volunteers and is all homemade. I was amazed at the ability of the town's people to pull this off each month but could not help but think about the small central city church in Milwaukee that was so much a part of my life for so many years. How hard it was for us to keep our doors open to fund our many missions and serve the neighborhood. Just one of these fish fries would pay for a year of an after school program. In my heart I have too think that the money and the hard work of these people of Plain was also having a good and just affect on those who need it in this community. We left Plain to have lunch at Spring Green. Spring Green is a lovely town which was home to Frank Lloyd Wright. His home, Talliesian is open for tours. There are a number of craft stores showcasing local artists and several nice restaurants. We had a lovely lunch at the old RR depot and then started out drive back to Devil's Lake. We made ony one stop on the way back, up a windy road to see that the apple orchard was indeed closed.
Friday night was spent visiting with friends from Madison, Wally and Margaret. They drove up to enjoy the campfire, good food and to try their luck at finding camp site 705. The safety of this site remains intact. We had a wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. A campfire is such a natural place to sit and talk.
Saturday was our day to explore the park. I got the bikes out and oiled them well since there weremany hills to navigate. Fortunately most of it was downhill to the beach. We loaded up oursupplies and off we went at a nice clip down the hills. W biked through the different camp parks and then eventually down to the beach. There were several hundred people who had got there before us but still there was enough room for Fran and I. We went down to the far end and took a path which led around the lake. This path had so many beautiful vista that it was hard to take pictures of them all. I was also enjoying watching all the various tatoos walk by. Although I did not take any pictures of them, this could be an interesting study in and of itself. I don't mean today I mean to study them twenty or thirty years from now. Imagine what all those butterflies, birds, and flowers will look like?
All good things come to an end and it was time to ride our bikes back up the mountain. I told Fran that it was every man for him self and I would meet her at the top. Getting up some speed on a slight decline I managed to make it to the top of the first rise and without resting I pedaled hard to make it to the summit of the first mountain. Here there was a plateau that allowed me to pull over and rest, knowing Fran was right behind I decided to wait for her. After quite a long time I saw Fran far down the slope pushing her bike with a red face and huge puffs of air. Turns out her deraileur broke at the very start of the mountain and she had to walk all of the way. I knew better than to try and sympathize with her so simply handed her water and marched beside her the rest of the way up the mountain.
That evening we had some of our Airstream friends out for a campfire and supper. This was a nice time for conversation, and good food. So often at rallies we are too busy to just sit and talk. Once again around the campfire is the perfect place for conversation and we had plenty of it.
Sunday was the day to pack up and start the drive back home. Devil's Lake will remain on our favorites list.
