Black River State Forest

I went on a little solo backpacking trip in Black River State Forest in Wisconsin this past weekend. In short, it was filled with boring views, heat and humidity, leg buckling terrain, and ticks, ticks, ticks. It was a fucking tick bonanza. So what follows now is a half-hearted trip summary and some full-hearted tick advice:

The forest sits on the border of a long-ago glaciated area and, for geological explanations beyond the scope of my knowledge, the area therefore hosts some features peculiar for the Midwest, like bluffs and rocky crags in the middle of otherwise flat plains. Most of the trails are for ATV use but 20-30 miles are dedicated hiking trails where dispersed camping is allowed, which I always appreciate.


Despite all the interesting rock formations I saw driving into the forest, the hiking trail itself was boring. The trail was wide (likely due to it's dual use as a winter cross-country skiing trail) and well-worn but the difficulty of the terrain itself was a bit of a surprise.


My path (the white line is my decidedly easier return route). The trails had "difficulty" ratings associated with them, which was odd but I think it's mainly for the skiers. However, it translates into hiking difficulty and being the (masochistically) intrepid explorer I am, I chose the most difficult outgoing trails and was a bit caught off guard by the wild fluctuations in elevation. Straight up for 1/8 mile, straight down for 1/8 mile, rinse and repeat. Tiring.


A hot and humid ocean of green. Nice, but nothing special. So far my hike has offered little to look at, it has been terribly humid, my legs are burning, and I've had to lug around 10+ pounds of water (no natural water sources, just parking lot hand pumps).


This photo sucks, I know. Most of them suck this time. But the real story of this hike was my battle against a virtual battalion of ticks and mosquitoes. I hate ticks. That tiny little fire there, which is dangerously close to my tent, was the genesis of a smudge fire I was building in an attempt to maintain a small sphere of control. (Footnote: A smudge fire is basically a smoky no-flame anti-pest fire). Way too close to my tent...but I was going nuts, because I hate ticks.


My smudge worked and I was able to inspect myself and gear in relative peace, although enveloped in smoke. This photo is of a female American Dog Tick. If you see a tick, this will probably be the species (the male looks a bit different). I found her in this clever hiding spot around my pants' knee zips. Even for the season and area, the insects and ticks (ticks are arachnids) were inexplicably thick and aggressive. I shit you not, while lying in my tent I saw upwards of 50 ticks in the span of 30 minutes crawling on the outside mesh, attracted by my body heat and breath. Did I say I hate ticks?


Another female American Dog Tick, in an equally clever hiding spot: the gusset of my shoe. Now I'm no expert and these days I'm no more than an armchair backpacker, but this is not the first, nor will it be the last, time I've dealt with these sons of bitches. Because I hate ticks, I'm going to relate to you how I generally avoid them. Too much to read? Skip it. But should you ever take a walk in a tick-prone area...

1. Wear long pants, gusseted footwear, tight underwear, and stuff pants into socks
This is 90% of the battle and I say that with gusto. Yes you will look like a knickerbocker-wearing jackass, oh well. Works best with a properly cinched backpack hipbelt over your shirt and pants.

2. Avoid brushing up against vegetation, stick to the barest ground in the middle of the trail
Ticks do NOT climb trees and pounce onto you like cats. Why? Because they are not god damn cats. It is impossible for one to purposefully leap down from above, worry more about actual contact.

3. Check yourself constantly, even while moving
Check deliberately and carefully. They are smaller than a matchstick head, lay flatter than a credit card, and are as easy to miss as the grammatical error in this sentence.

4. DEET your hands and collar, 20-30% concentration
DEET is not a replacement for coverage, not even close, but it might be just enough to dissuade one from latching on.


Not much went my way that weekend but I still enjoyed myself for reasons not quite clear to me yet. I guess I need a rough one once in a while to appreciate the rest...

By the way, I was still reflexively glancing at and checking my arms and legs all day today. I hate ticks.