Recap : Ice Age Trail - Waushara County

My 37th Birthday Run

On 1/11/25, my birthday, my alarm went off at 1:30AM. The only way to truly celebrate your birthday is by starting early. All my gear was packed up, the coffee machine was timed to start brewing at 1:00AM, and I had already made my breakfast which was in the fridge waiting for me. I got dressed, filled my mug, grabbed my food, and I was out the door heading northwest to Waushara County. As I began the drive, I went past a few bars that were still on last call. At a different time in my life, I may have been one of those patrons.

After a Kwik Trip stop and a 2.5 hour drive, I parked my truck at the Raisin’ Cain bar and restaurant. I slipped on my vest and after a few minor adjustments, I felt mostly prepared to begin. There is this moment of vulnerability when it comes time to start an unsupported ultra-distance effort. The next support I’d have was a ride back to this truck, and it was 42 miles away. I made sure I checked all my “to-do” boxes as quickly as possible as my hands were gradually getting numb. It was time to start moving.

I started out with several miles of road running which allowed me to warm up quickly. Within a couple miles I was already shedding a layer. Up top I was wearing two long sleeve merino wool midlayers and a light windbreaker. The windbreaker was a last moment addition, and ultimately, proved unnecessary. The key to winter running is to avoid sweating. Although every time you stop during a winter trek it is a giant pain in the ass, you have to take swift action so little issues don’t become big issues. The roads were at times clear and at other times covered in snow, with potholes and low points resulting in patches of ice. I focused on landing footsteps more directly underneath me to avoid overcommitting and slipping on any given step. I found some humor in the oddity of my reality. If something were to go wrong, about all I could do would be to give my GPS coordinate. I couldn’t pick a landmark, business, town, or anything else as a point of reference because there was nothing. I was making my way through a dark, desolate stretch of farmland, growing more and more excited to see the sun.

At around 13 miles in, I saw the horizon begin to lighten. I’d still need my light for another 30 minutes or so, but I felt an immediate surge of energy and boost in confidence. It was time to troubleshoot again, as both of my water flasks in the chest pockets of my vest had frozen caps, preventing me from being able to take a drink. I tried to break up the ice by biting on the cap and trying to pull the water through, but to no avail. I pulled out a hothands warmer and set it against the cap. Once that thawed the cap enough to drink from it, I switched the hothands warmer over to the other flask cap. Problem solved.

Just prior to sunrise, I was running the boardwalk on the shores of Bohn Lake. There was a bench that read “Sit for a spell. Listen. Watch. Daydream. Just breathe.” Although I didn’t take the bench up on it’s first offer to sit, I loved the sentiment and tried to focus on the other suggestions. I heard an owl hooting in the distance. This is not only my favorite animal, but also my favorite animal experience when out in nature. Owls are the best.

At about the halfway point of my run, I came upon the Mecan Segment. Interestingly enough, the Mecan Segment is also the halfway point of an Ice Age Trail thru-hiker’s 1,200 mile journey. I took about 10 minutes to take my pack off and hit the reset. I pulled some nutrition and full flasks of water to the front of my vest, plugged my phone in to get a charge, and put away my light. I filled a few pockets that were pressed up to my body with Maurten Solid 160’s. The Maurten Solid 160 is a tasty source of carbs/calories, but they get rock hard in the cold. The easiest solution is to use your body heat to keep them thawed until you’re ready to eat. Speaking of fuel and fueling plan, I’ll keep this part short because I don’t intend for it to be an ad. I consumed 1x Gel 160 or 1x Solid 160 every 40 minutes, for an average of 60g of carbs per hour. That’s it. I fueled every 40 minutes because it’s simply not fun to mess with opening up packets in the cold. My hands would instantly feel frozen when I slipped a glove off, and my hand dexterity in the cold is usually around 30% of normal. So reducing the cadence of fueling made sense for me. I work for Maurten and have a direct line with some brilliant performance nutritionists, but this was not designed by them. Maybe I’ll run it past them to get their thoughts. I packed 3 liters / 96 oz of water, so I drank to thirst and consumed in a way so I wouldn’t run out too early. Spoiler alert, it all worked fine.

For perspective, at the marathon mark I had seen exactly zero people on the trail. On the road sections, I had been passed by one car. At about the 30 mile mark, I went through a small town called Richford. The first town I had seen on route. A few cars and Amish buggies buzzed past me before I heard a vehicle approaching me from behind. I could hear the truck slowing down as it got closer. He pulled even with me and slowed to my pace. A grizzled, older guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth rolled down the window. “What are you doing? I mean, are you doing alright?” he asked. “I’m running across Waushara County on the Ice Age Trail, and yeah, I’m doing fine. Slowly but surely. Emphasis on slowly.” I replied, trying to add a little humor. He processed what I had just told him for a while. “Well, that sounds awful, but good luck and God bless you. You sure you don’t need nothin’?” he asked again. “One of those cigs looks good right about now, but I’m all set. The quicker I get done, the quicker I get a ride back to Raisin’ Cain for a pizza.” I told him. He laughed and said “Yep, they probably make the best pizza around here. Alright… Take care of yourself.” and then pulled off.

Also around the 30ish mile mark, my legs had definitely lost their pop. I pretty much nailed the logistics, planning, and execution of said plan. The missing piece was training volume. This effort was not an “A” race for me, so I knew going in that I would be susceptible to fatiguing at a quicker rate in the later stages of this run. I also have a two month old son who is awesome, but also wakes me up every few hours. Running and training is relatively low on the priority list for me right now compared to where it has been in recent years. These are both explanations and also excuses. I’m not complaining! Life is great. This effort was a good indicator of where I currently am physically, and I’ll use this to plan going forward for what I think will be a pretty special 2025 for me athletically.

Around 36 miles in, I passed under Hwy 39. There are two underpasses split up by a small patch of land. Both were completely frozen. At the first underpass, I was able to bypass the ice and climb over some boulders to get to the other side. Was I going to make it the entire way without a single fall? I got my answer as I hit the second underpass. This time, there was no boulder route. There was a creek alongside a strip of cement that was completely frozen over. The options in the drainage tunnel were walking through the creek or walking on the ice. I chose the ice. With about 5 feet to go until safe ground, the ice pitched up slightly. The moment my feet touched it I was thrown off balance and went down to my knees, then slid backwards until I was almost into the creek. I caught myself just in time, and hands-and-knees crawled to safety. All you can do is laugh.

I hit the final section of trail and snaked my way towards the 3rd Ave parking lot. It was really only then that I glanced at my watch to see where my final time might end up being. It looked like if I kept running at a decent clip, I could sneak in under 8 hours. That felt important enough to push through the malaise and finish strong. My Dad was parked in the 3rd Ave lot waiting for me. As I ran past him, I let him know that my actual finish on the county line was still another 1/2 mile south on 3rd Ave. I ran past and hit the road. I looked for a sign indicating the county line, but didn’t see one. I did have a GPS coordinate on my watch that let me know exactly where the county line was. As I arrived at that GPS coordinate, there was a very distinctive change in the texture of the road, just as clear as a sign, that one county ended and another began.

I hit stop on my watch. 42.25 miles / 68 km in 7:53:41. When planning this run, I had estimated it would take me 8 hours. Despite my face being windburned and the single slip and fall on ice, I felt like really everything else went remarkably according to plan. I love the Ice Age Trail. I love big challenges. I love adventure for the sake of adventure. My finish line was literally a change in the texture of the road. If that doesn’t sound appealing, I completely understand. If it does, then you’re wired like me and I don’t need to explain it further.

I jumped in my Dad’s car and took about 15 minutes to thaw out my beard. We drove back to Raisin’ Cain and had the pizza I had long been thinking about. It was every bit as good as anticipated. I washed it down with a Spotted Cow like a good Wisconsinite. I traded some of my stories of the day with my Dad and the lady bartending. She told me that Ice Age Trail hikers comprise a good amount of their customer base. She said they frequently belly up to the bar, fill up on beer and pizza, and camp in the backyard. One of the thru hikers apparently took down a whole 16 inch pizza by herself, to which I say, respect.

I drove home in time to spend the afternoon and evening with Ana, Lola, and Will. My nightcap was two fingers of whiskey and a homemade bourbon orange birthday cake. If you’ve ever experienced a 2.5 year old singing you happy birthday, you know it is just about the best gift you can receive. It was a great day. Thank you to everyone who reached out!

If you’d like to watch the extremely unprofessional video I took with frozen fingers :) on my phone, you can find it here :