Thursday began with an early morning session with Ashley, my sister’s demanding and mildly sadistic PT, and half an hour on the treadmill which, frankly, won’t have cancelled but a tiny portion of the effect of many days of American over-eating, but made me feel better.  Then we went to explore Target.  My American friends talk as though you can get anything under the sun in Target and, in truth, they are probably right.  I resisted the lure of musical plushies from Moana for the grandkids (too afraid of my daughter’s response!!)  But in the evening, we took ourselves off to Wisconsin.  Sissy had booked us a weekend in a lake house on the southernmost tip of Lake Wisconsin, just outside a town called Lodi (pronounced Low-dye).  We arrived quite late, long after dark, and most of the drive was lost on us – although I did have a vague impression of water.

We found bedrooms, unloaded the car and were quickly asleep.

The morning brought light, and a swift understanding of the beauty of our surroundings.  The house itself was light and modern with a mezzanine built over an open plan living area.  It had a tiny ‘garden’, a boathouse and a jetty extending into the lake itself – a sweet spot soon commandeered by Josh, who stretched out on a sun lounger, wrapped in a hoodie against the freshness of the wind, and declared himself in love.

 

On Friday, we headed over the Merrimac Ferry (a chain ferry across the lake, which caused the small boys amongst us a huge amount of excitement) and into Devil’s Lake State Park, which we had researched the evening before.  In season, I think there are boats and Stand-Up-Paddleboards and all kinds of shenanigans you can do at the park; out of season we pulled into a carpark with no more than a handful of cars, mostly disgorging runners.  I had a moment of envy…. it was a beautiful place for a run.

The park is built around a glacial lake, surrounded by high, quartzite hills punctuated by ice-age boulder falls and some stunning geological features.  It’s turkey vulture commuting season, and apparently the vulture gathering is a spectacular site, but we were a little too late to witness it, I think.  Similarly, the autumn leaves are just coming in and some of the colours were spectacular – in another fortnight the whole lakeshore will be ablaze with deep reds and fiery oranges.  Right now, it is mostly a yellowing green with isolated pockets of blazing glory.

We chose to follow the East Bluff trail.  Charlie wants me to tell you that “Oh, that was tiring!”.  It was billed as a couple of hours of easily navigable trail – and indeed it would have been, had we been less eager to explore the rocks which were gloriously climbable, and the views – which were utterly spectacular!

 

Tim, Josh, my youngest nephew Joe and I scrambled down to the Devil’s Doorway, a stunning rock formation on a slight detour from the main route.  It was a short, technical scramble, rewarded with another stunning view, high over the lake.  We lingered to talk to other hikers, and take some photos.  Rock formations are amongst our favourite things; my children grew up playing on the rocks of the peak district and Cornish coast and we were enjoying the scrambling (and occasional bouldering) the trail offered us.

 

We got back to the main trail to discover the others had got bored of waiting for us, and moved on.  So we followed, and thought we caught site of them descending to the southern tip of the lake, down a steep hill ahead of us.  This turned out to be the Potholes Trail and it soon became apparent that it would be unmanageable with small people, which meant it couldn’t possibly have been the others we spotted ahead.  Tim and I elected to take Joe back the way we had come, while Josh decided to continue the difficult scrambling of the potholes.  We’d heard from my sister that they were headed for the concession stand on the southern shore, so we agreed to meet Josh there, too.

A short way back along the Eastern Bluff Trail, we spotted the route marker for the Balanced Rock Trail, which seemed to offer a more direct route to the southern shore.  So we set off on it.  To be honest (and don’t tell my sister) it wasn’t really suitable for small people, either, as it picked a sometimes fairly precarious path down a massive, steep boulder fall.  It wasn’t quite straight down the hill, but the route was difficult to follow and had some pretty steep drops with unprotected edges.  We managed to make it interesting for Joe, such that he didn’t notice the potential hazards, and made it safely down to the south shore just in time to receive a text from Emily saying that they’d got lost and decided to head back to the North Shore car park….!

After a quick huddle we decided we’d get too cold waiting for them to bring the car round to us.  There was a short, 1-mile trail round the other side of the lake which sounded very straightforwardly manageable, and we bribed Joe with the promise of chocolate at some point in the unspecified future, and set off again.  The Tumbled Rocks trail was as straightforward as advertised, and afforded more spectacular views over the lake.

After about 45 minutes, we spotted a very small Sissy, waving at us from a rack of kayaks next to the North Shore cafe.  Joe and I rashly decided to run to meet her (and pretend we’d run all the way round the lake).  Never take a 9-year old running…. especially when the target decides hot chocolate is a more alluring option that greeting her offspring!  By the time we fell through the cafe door, my ears were bleeding and there was nothing make believe about my heavy breathing!

After a brief refreshment break, we made our way back to our own lake house for dinner and a spectacular sunset, which we honoured with margaritas drunk from jam jars (nothing hipster-ish about it; there weren’t enough glasses!) and a rowdy game of Cards Against Humanity.

 

Saturday dawned wet, and stayed determinedly wet.  We stayed determinedly indoors, watching the puddles in the garden grow to greet the lake.  It was a day for books, games and films and was spent in a happy haze of reading, snoozing and entertaining the children.

On Sunday, we headed back to Illinois via brief stop at Madison, which we’d spotted on the map and knew absolutely nothing about.  Turns out, Madison is the state capital of Wisconsin and we stumbled completely haphazardly on the capital building, a beautiful, imposing beaux-arts building modelled on the White House.  Luckily it was open, and we spent a happy hour climbing marble staircases and admiring the rotunda from below and bugler-gallery-level up high in the gods…

It was absolutely spectacular, and very well curated for visitors.  We explored a little more of the town which was, bizarrely, almost completely deserted.  I guess we were in the business/legislative area, but apart from a couple of *incredibly* seedy bars with smokers lurking on the steps outside, we saw almost not another living soul.  Which was fine, as it allowed us to enjoy unfettered views over the townscape.

 

And so back to Illinois where we have, today, rounded off the weekend with another trip to Ashley, the demanding and creatively sadistic personal trainer.  As a result of which, I am limited to typing this blog, since I can no longer raise my arms even enough to drink a cup of tea…