(mid-August 2023)
(Dance to the prelude.)
A few days ago thirsty beer geeks from around the country descended upon Madison for the Great Taste of the Midwest, the best beer festival in all the land. Although I didn’t attend, I did go to the Essen Haus, a German restaurant, the evening before as The Polkaholics, Chicago’s renowned polka-rock band, were playing.
As usual, they put the crowd to shame with their haberdashery as they were dressed in the finest Lederhosen complemented by the sexiest socks of any band, polka or otherwise. I had my Polkaholics t-shirt on and Dandy Don, the guitarist/singer, spotted me right away in my stylish outfit. I’d made a music mix for the road trip to Gencon which featured a couple Polkaholics tunes and I was hoping to hear them live. I found that “Paul Konrad Polka”, a tribute to the WGN weatherman in Chicago, was already on the setlist and so I requested the other song, “Sound (of the Beer) Garden Polka”. This one is a musical chimera worthy of Victor Frankenstein himself which fuses the alternative rock of 90's stalwarts Soundgarden with a steady 1-2 polka beat to great melodic (and humorous) effect.
When the sun is a black hole
The beer will be ice cold
Classic stuff. Ooh! And they had a new album out too – Say Yes to Oktoberfest. It is a Dionysian ditty, a concept album, of sorts, about beer, drinking, and Oktoberfest revelry. You bet I bought the CD.
I ran into a fellow whom I knew via Twitter and had met in-person a couple of times. We chatted about craft beer, camping, the sorry state of Twitter, and whatever else came to mind. It was nice to see him again and to meet his wife whose existence I’d learned of online but had never encountered in real life.
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A few (or is it several?) entries ago, I wrote about walking around Morton Woods. I’d randomly chosen it as a destination for a hike after looking at a map of county parks. Now, if I hadn’t gone there, I would have instead headed to Walking Iron County Park, just north of Mazomanie which is 25 miles west of Madison. A full week of work after spending 5 days down in Indianapolis on vacation at Gencon was sheer hell so, when the weekend finally rolled around, I needed a hike out in nature and headed west to Walking Iron.
For the drive there, I traveled much the same route as I did going out to Morton Woods. Taking the back roads meant I would not feel compelled to drive 55+ and instead cruise along at 35-40 so I could enjoy the scenery from the tops of the many rolling hills out in the Driftless Area.
One advantage of a nice, leisurely pace is that, if I spot a deer in a field, I can actually pull over to take a photograph rather easily as I did on this occasion.
I drove through a little of Black Earth before turning onto another scenic county road which would take me to Mazomanie. Mazo isn’t very large and, before long, I was outside of town and at the park. It was a lovely, sunny morning.
The initial section of the trail ran along the edge of some woods on one side with prairie on the other.
There was birdsong coming from all sides – it was avian surround sound. I would occasionally catch a glimpse of the tiny members of the chorus but that was about it. There were many calls and songs that were completely unfamiliar to me. This shouldn’t be surprising, though, as I only know the basic city slicker repertoire – robins, cardinals, and red-winged black birds. Oh, and red-bellied woodpecker too.
At one point, I came to a spot with some pine trees which scented the air quite nicely.
Soon I came upon a trail that led off into the woods.
Despite knowing this is exactly the kind of thing that got Hansel & Gretel into trouble, I followed the path into the trees where I discovered that it wended its way down to a creek and ran along side it for a stretch.
The trail through the trees was pleasantly cool but all-too short and soon enough I was back on the path that straddled woods and prairie.
Some parts of the trail straddled farm fields.
The scent on these stretches was all fresh & verdant, to start, and I took in the air thinking to myself how wonderful the countryside is. As I traipsed further along, however, that other scent of the countryside began to creep in: manure. Now, I can handle cow manure just fine. (Chicken shit is a whole different matter, though.) But then the noxious smell of chemical fertilizer kicked in and the combination was really quite bad. I hastened onwards to escape the miasma.
Towards the end of my hike, I found myself at the Pasque Flower Prairie where birds were zipping around from ground to tree, tree to tree - just everywhere.
They wisely kept a good distance between themselves and the human so I wasn’t able to get a decent photograph. However, I was able to see that many of them were blue on top, though they had white or tan bellies.
These weren’t blue jays and the only other bird of that hue that I know of in these parts is the indigo bunting but I thought they were of a deeper blue color and were completely blue, belly and all. After consulting that handy Birds of Wisconsin, my best guess is that they were Eastern Bluebirds.
The walk being done, I headed into Mazomanie for something to eat as I was famished. And maybe a refill on my coffee too.
I hadn’t been there since 2002, when I accompanied the woman whom I was dating at that time to a dance studio in the old part of town. This was where Madison’s Cycropia Aerial Dance had a rehearsal space and my girlfriend was intent on spending some time hanging from ropes, spinning in circles, and learning a little about aerial dancing. Think Julianne Moore in The Big Lebowski but without the paintbrush.
In addition to not immediately finding a coffeehouse as I cruised into Mazo, I also didn't find anyone out and about. It was a bit spooky, as if I was in that episode of The Twilight Zone where the guy wanders around the town only to find it abandoned. I chose a parking spot largely based on its proximity to this neat ghost sign for what appears to have been a grocery store from back in the day.
Wandering around town on foot, I ran into an old blacksmith shop that was now home to the Midwest Micro Car Museum.
I don’t know if it is dedicated to those very small cars like the one Mr. Bean drives or just a very large collection of Matchboxes.
An area where rail tracks ran through town was rather neat. The old freight and coal buildings still stood but, in the field abutting them was a bandshell.
And across the remaining track was a promenade.
The old feed mill was now a fancy restaurant while various other buildings that would have served the trains and/or passengers had been converted into stores along with covered seating areas for music and other festivities.
From the remaining buildings and the layout of the area by the tracks, it seems that Mazo was something of a rail hub back in the day.
Continuing my walk, I discovered that the town’s historical museum was in an old electric power plant.
I am not sure when, but the building hosted a jail at some point. Perhaps it was the home of the local constabulary before becoming a power plant.
I guess things got a little rowdy back in the day.
The town library is housed in a former train depot which doesn't look to have changed much since the late 19th century.
Some of the old rails were still visible in the street and you could see how they ran through what is now that slick promenade.
Unfortunately, there was no source of coffee that was open downtown. I eventually saw 3 or 4 people but, otherwise, it was dead. And so I headed out towards the highway for a gas station where I got a breakfast sandwich and more coffee before heading for home.
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Bonus photo. It’s the octagon house in Watertown. I cannot recall the name of it but it’s a historic site.
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