Tom and Kathie Brock and other Prairie Enthusiasts tend to Black Earth Rettenmund Prairie State Natural Area, just south of the city of Black Earth, Wisconsin. The slow-moving traffic and small downtown belie its popularity for hunters, trout fishermen, and nature lovers. Black Earth Creek snakes its way through town and joins Garfoot Creek just west of the city limit. The Department of Natural Resources classifies both as Class I trout streams.
But, there is more to this area than fishing or hunting. Sunday, I set out to find some prairie beauties and capture a bit of their splendor with my camera. My quarry: June bloomers. The steep slopes of Rettenmund prairie harbor remnant grassland habitat. Seen from a distance, the milkweeds, black-eyed susans, spiderworts, sunflowers, and prairie clover create a Monet-like scene, scattered with points of color against the backdrop of paler grasses. Here, the two stars today were the wood lilies and butterfly milkweed. The two feet tall single-stemmed lilies shouted out with flame-orange brilliance as if to say “Look at me!”. Purple-brown spots dotted the inside of the six large petals forming a cup perched atop each stem. The smaller milkweed flowers, though, make up for their stature with abundance and originality. Each sprawling stem carries hundreds of orange-hooded flowers, petals curving downward and away as if to set the frame for the show.
Pleasant Valley Conservancy, about five miles to the west of the Rettenmund Natural Area, shelters a state endangered species – the purple milkweed. This oak savanna beauty first appeared after the Brocks began restoring their property in 1999. These plants announce their arrival with a showy display. The characteristic hooded milkweed flowers produce an eye-popping shade of magenta. It’s not hard to see them amongst the dull (by comparison) grassy surroundings, shaded by tall white oaks. But, they come and go, springing up some years and not others, according to Nature’s whims. It was my lucky day and truly a pleasure to capture a picture of these illusive gems.
All pictures by CartoGeek
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Home Fires Burning
The blaze edged closer and closer. The coming fury, pushed along by the light southerly breeze, roared as the dry prairie grass ignited. A warmth rose on my cheeks as the fire approached, a flutter of concern bubbled in my stomach.
No need to call 911, though. A carefully planned burn unfolded before me. Prescribed fires occur all over the Midwestern prairie states in the spring. Unlike a cheery Currier-and-Ives winter hearth fire, this one, in southern Wisconsin, moved with wild intensity and power.
As a kid, fires brought the best kind of comfort – warmth on a cold evening, the embers' murmuring tones echoing in the brick hearth. The flames always mesmerized me. I threw in twigs and stirred the coals with the poker, endlessly entertained by the erupting flares of light. I wadded up bits of newspapers and watched as the red-hot coals ignited the fuel into a dozen hues – yellows, blues, and greens – as the inks combusted. The glossy advertising pages produced an especially colorful display.
Seated atop the brick hearth extension, the fire’s heat flushed my cheeks with pink warmth. Turning around, my back got the same treatment. Drying my hair after a winter’s bath was far more pleasant at the fireplace than with my mother’s noisy 60’s-era portable salon dryer. In the morning, the cold gray remains lay in the firebox, ready to sweep down the ash chute.
I found comfort in the fire. I never thought much about the power of the flames caged within our fireplace. That is, not until I found myself helping with a prescribed burn.
Once let loose on a dry prairie field like the one I was standing in, a fire devours nearly everything in its path with all-consuming ferocity. The stalks of Indian grass, at nearly seven feet tall, waved in the gentle breeze. The fire soon enveloped them, the flames carried higher and higher by the long blades of grass. Smoke billowed from the leading edge of the soaring blaze. Standing more than 20 feet away, I felt the intense heat. The fire’s roar sounded like a run-away semi-truck barreling down a steep slope.
I found the display just as mesmerizing as the fires of my childhood. But the heat in my cheeks broke my reverie. I backed off to the safety of a previously prepared firebreak.
Backfires set earlier in the day created protective strips to help corral the flames where needed. Done right, a nicely executed prairie burn rivals a military maneuver – meticulous planning, good communication, and battle-ready crew movements. The day’s preparations ended with the fire scorching the four-acre field within a half hour.
The fire’s aftermath leaves a blackened patch of earth. Drooping nubbins of heartier fire-adapted plants remain to break up the topography. Regular burning keeps invasive plants at bay and paves the way for new growth. The earth, now perfectly prepared for new shoots to rise, Phoenix-like, can renew the splendor of the prairie for another year.
No need to call 911, though. A carefully planned burn unfolded before me. Prescribed fires occur all over the Midwestern prairie states in the spring. Unlike a cheery Currier-and-Ives winter hearth fire, this one, in southern Wisconsin, moved with wild intensity and power.
As a kid, fires brought the best kind of comfort – warmth on a cold evening, the embers' murmuring tones echoing in the brick hearth. The flames always mesmerized me. I threw in twigs and stirred the coals with the poker, endlessly entertained by the erupting flares of light. I wadded up bits of newspapers and watched as the red-hot coals ignited the fuel into a dozen hues – yellows, blues, and greens – as the inks combusted. The glossy advertising pages produced an especially colorful display.
Seated atop the brick hearth extension, the fire’s heat flushed my cheeks with pink warmth. Turning around, my back got the same treatment. Drying my hair after a winter’s bath was far more pleasant at the fireplace than with my mother’s noisy 60’s-era portable salon dryer. In the morning, the cold gray remains lay in the firebox, ready to sweep down the ash chute.
I found comfort in the fire. I never thought much about the power of the flames caged within our fireplace. That is, not until I found myself helping with a prescribed burn.
I found the display just as mesmerizing as the fires of my childhood. But the heat in my cheeks broke my reverie. I backed off to the safety of a previously prepared firebreak.
Backfires set earlier in the day created protective strips to help corral the flames where needed. Done right, a nicely executed prairie burn rivals a military maneuver – meticulous planning, good communication, and battle-ready crew movements. The day’s preparations ended with the fire scorching the four-acre field within a half hour.
The fire’s aftermath leaves a blackened patch of earth. Drooping nubbins of heartier fire-adapted plants remain to break up the topography. Regular burning keeps invasive plants at bay and paves the way for new growth. The earth, now perfectly prepared for new shoots to rise, Phoenix-like, can renew the splendor of the prairie for another year.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Natural Connections
10 Suggestions for Rediscovering your Nature
A wonderfully entertaining and engaging world awaits those who step outside the enclosures of modern life: cars, houses, malls, offices, and groceries, to name just a few. Rather than focus on what we leave behind – air conditioning, 24-hour TV with 1,000 channels, and the ability to hop in a car that takes us anywhere and nowhere we want to go – focus instead on the discovery and reconnection to that which is forgotten. A world we are integrally a part of but which has been buried in far away recesses of our modern lives.
To get you thinking about how to do this, here is a list of 10 activities (see previous blog posts). Some are easy, some require a bit more effort but each one makes the cut because I have experienced them. Give it a go and then take a moment for reflection, pay attention to what you see and feel. You might find it surprising!
1. Go barefoot – when was the last time you did this? Remember as a kid wriggling your toes in mud or sun-baked beach sands? Can’t find a beach? Just try walking on a grassy expanse.
2. Take a hike or walk in the woods. No matter where you live, parks and trails await exploration. Check out your city’s web site for park locations or research state parks in your area.
3. Volunteer for a restoration work party. Help stamp out invasive plant species or build trails. You are guaranteed to meet great people, get some good exercise, and someone always brings after-work goodies.
4. Put up a bird or bat house. Another pair of twittering wrens occupy my birdhouse. Sometimes you don’t even need a birdhouse – a nesting robin has made a home in a hanging planter on my front porch!
5. Take a dog’s walk. Amble with your own or join a friend whose dog needs a stroll. Either way, you’ll get outside and have lots of company.
6. Get your hands dirty - start a garden. If your yard is small or shady, find a community plot. There’s nothing better than getting an armload of fresh produce or getting to know a fellow gardener “over the fence”.
7. Go for a bike ride. Or better yet, start commuting to work once a week on your bike. Google provides an extension to its map service to help you find a route. Many cities claim a bike-friendly atmosphere with impromptu groups forming for regular rides.
8. Join a conservation organization or become a citizen scientist. Many local organizations keep tabs on your particular area but even national organizations such as the Nature Conservancy or the Audubon Society have local chapters. See what the Milwaukee-based RiverKeeper organization does to help monitor water quality in its area.
9. Visit a farmer’s market. Farmer’s markets and community-supported agriculture enterprises provide fresh local produce for most of the year. Madison has several markets open on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Experience a closer connection to the food you eat and where it comes from.
10. Support local restaurants supporting local food. Enjoy a great meal in a non-chain eatery in your area like the one I reviewed in Wausau, Wisconsin.
Make a comment about your reflections or suggest other ways to reconnect to your nature.
A wonderfully entertaining and engaging world awaits those who step outside the enclosures of modern life: cars, houses, malls, offices, and groceries, to name just a few. Rather than focus on what we leave behind – air conditioning, 24-hour TV with 1,000 channels, and the ability to hop in a car that takes us anywhere and nowhere we want to go – focus instead on the discovery and reconnection to that which is forgotten. A world we are integrally a part of but which has been buried in far away recesses of our modern lives.
To get you thinking about how to do this, here is a list of 10 activities (see previous blog posts). Some are easy, some require a bit more effort but each one makes the cut because I have experienced them. Give it a go and then take a moment for reflection, pay attention to what you see and feel. You might find it surprising!
1. Go barefoot – when was the last time you did this? Remember as a kid wriggling your toes in mud or sun-baked beach sands? Can’t find a beach? Just try walking on a grassy expanse.
2. Take a hike or walk in the woods. No matter where you live, parks and trails await exploration. Check out your city’s web site for park locations or research state parks in your area.
3. Volunteer for a restoration work party. Help stamp out invasive plant species or build trails. You are guaranteed to meet great people, get some good exercise, and someone always brings after-work goodies.
4. Put up a bird or bat house. Another pair of twittering wrens occupy my birdhouse. Sometimes you don’t even need a birdhouse – a nesting robin has made a home in a hanging planter on my front porch!
5. Take a dog’s walk. Amble with your own or join a friend whose dog needs a stroll. Either way, you’ll get outside and have lots of company.
6. Get your hands dirty - start a garden. If your yard is small or shady, find a community plot. There’s nothing better than getting an armload of fresh produce or getting to know a fellow gardener “over the fence”.
7. Go for a bike ride. Or better yet, start commuting to work once a week on your bike. Google provides an extension to its map service to help you find a route. Many cities claim a bike-friendly atmosphere with impromptu groups forming for regular rides.
8. Join a conservation organization or become a citizen scientist. Many local organizations keep tabs on your particular area but even national organizations such as the Nature Conservancy or the Audubon Society have local chapters. See what the Milwaukee-based RiverKeeper organization does to help monitor water quality in its area.
9. Visit a farmer’s market. Farmer’s markets and community-supported agriculture enterprises provide fresh local produce for most of the year. Madison has several markets open on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Experience a closer connection to the food you eat and where it comes from.
10. Support local restaurants supporting local food. Enjoy a great meal in a non-chain eatery in your area like the one I reviewed in Wausau, Wisconsin.
Make a comment about your reflections or suggest other ways to reconnect to your nature.
Volunteering for Nature
Watersheds – the land, water, and living things -- depend on people.
In October 2008, the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence River Basin Water Resources Compact became law, the culmination of years of negotiation by a laundry list of regional, national, and international organizations, comprised of thoughtful and dedicated people. At heart, the Compact is a conservation agreement like no other in the sweeping scope of its water management coordination. Eight states along with Ontario and Quebec are recognized as stewards of this shared great resource.
The Milwaukee River Basin includes three major rivers – the Milwaukee, the Menomonee, and the Kinnickinnic -- that flow to Lake Michigan, the second largest of the Great Lakes. This watershed, dominated by the City of Milwaukee’s urbanized area, is the focus of the Milwaukee RiverKeepers.
The organization participated in the formulation of the Compact but they haven’t rested on their laurels since the passage of the Federal law nearly two years ago. The group’s advocacy, still a large part of their work, speaks to sound land use planning decisions. The mission statement echoes and extends themes found in the Compact’s guidelines: assessment of management strategies, conservation and improvement of water quality and wildlife habitat. Assessing the health of the streams is the first step.
Monitoring projects seek to take the pulse of the rivers. The RiverKeepers have instituted a citizen-based program boasting 58 volunteers who gather data using consistent standardized methodology. This information is important for assessing the condition of Milwaukee’s river system over time. Here is a map showing some of the results of this work.
One volunteer monitor is Erica King, a Waukesha native (from just over the watershed divide). She recently completed the rigorous two-day training program. “I signed up because I really care about the health of our streams and thought I could be of value with my past experience with stream monitoring. I also wanted to help give back to the community” says Ms. King. She will be doing “the level two monitoring which is a little more advanced. It includes additional testing for water quality and the use of more accurate (and expensive) equipment.” Ms. King samples two stream sites for various water quality parameters once a month. Volunteers enter the collected data into the Department of Natural Resources’ database to determine the health and habitat value to the stream.
The monthly commitment pays big dividends. These data help to shape stream management decisions that affect the quality of life in the larger community. And for Ms. King, the responsibility is one she relishes. “It’s just really enjoyable and I feel connects you more to nature and the resources in your own community.” With the combined efforts of volunteers such as Ms. King and organizations like the RiverKeepers, our lakes and rivers will be nurtured and improved.
The health of our watersheds and ultimately our communities really does boil down to individual people committing to give back just a little.
In October 2008, the Great Lakes–St. Lawrence River Basin Water Resources Compact became law, the culmination of years of negotiation by a laundry list of regional, national, and international organizations, comprised of thoughtful and dedicated people. At heart, the Compact is a conservation agreement like no other in the sweeping scope of its water management coordination. Eight states along with Ontario and Quebec are recognized as stewards of this shared great resource.
The Milwaukee River Basin includes three major rivers – the Milwaukee, the Menomonee, and the Kinnickinnic -- that flow to Lake Michigan, the second largest of the Great Lakes. This watershed, dominated by the City of Milwaukee’s urbanized area, is the focus of the Milwaukee RiverKeepers.
The organization participated in the formulation of the Compact but they haven’t rested on their laurels since the passage of the Federal law nearly two years ago. The group’s advocacy, still a large part of their work, speaks to sound land use planning decisions. The mission statement echoes and extends themes found in the Compact’s guidelines: assessment of management strategies, conservation and improvement of water quality and wildlife habitat. Assessing the health of the streams is the first step.
Monitoring projects seek to take the pulse of the rivers. The RiverKeepers have instituted a citizen-based program boasting 58 volunteers who gather data using consistent standardized methodology. This information is important for assessing the condition of Milwaukee’s river system over time. Here is a map showing some of the results of this work.
One volunteer monitor is Erica King, a Waukesha native (from just over the watershed divide). She recently completed the rigorous two-day training program. “I signed up because I really care about the health of our streams and thought I could be of value with my past experience with stream monitoring. I also wanted to help give back to the community” says Ms. King. She will be doing “the level two monitoring which is a little more advanced. It includes additional testing for water quality and the use of more accurate (and expensive) equipment.” Ms. King samples two stream sites for various water quality parameters once a month. Volunteers enter the collected data into the Department of Natural Resources’ database to determine the health and habitat value to the stream.
The monthly commitment pays big dividends. These data help to shape stream management decisions that affect the quality of life in the larger community. And for Ms. King, the responsibility is one she relishes. “It’s just really enjoyable and I feel connects you more to nature and the resources in your own community.” With the combined efforts of volunteers such as Ms. King and organizations like the RiverKeepers, our lakes and rivers will be nurtured and improved.
The health of our watersheds and ultimately our communities really does boil down to individual people committing to give back just a little.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Wrens are Back
A metal awning over my kitchen window diffuses the summer’s intense morning sun. Attached to one support arm hangs a well-used wren house, a simple rectangular box with a pitched roof. The roof overhang protects a narrow horizontal oval entryway.
This Spring, the laissez-faire yard work attitude I had adopted needed an adjustment. Since Ralph and his mate had moved on to a new landlady, I didn’t worry too much about disturbing the now disheveled and unused nest. The out-of-control lilac bush got whacked. Within a few days, first one wren and then its mate came to check out the stunningly clear view from the birdhouse. It seemed to suit them.
It is hard to distinguish male and female wrens visually but they both love to sing. The Peterson Field Guide to Eastern Birds describes their voice as “a stuttering gurgling song, rising in a musical burst, then falling at the end.” The beak opens and a split second later, the stuttering song begins, the throat’s vibration carrying all the way down their little body to the tip of their tail as it quivers with the exertion.
Perhaps all the noisy to-do is a complicated mating ritual or perhaps they are bickering over house decorations – “move that twig just a scosh to the left please” or “the spider web padding goes in that corner, not this one”. They make trip after trip, carrying small twigs that usually fit through the hole; sometimes the sticks are too long and they fall to the ground. You can almost feel the wren’s resignation at having to try again. But eventually their nest will be just right. If I am lucky, I will get to witness the growth of a clutch of baby wrens.
For several years, the wrens have been absent, replaced by a pair of cardinals, who built a nest in the overgrown lilac bush under the window. I watched the new neighbors with fascination each morning just as I had the wrens. They raised one ever-hungry chick before one day it and then they disappeared. Perhaps because the nest remained, the male cardinal (who we dubbed Ralph) decided that the other awning support provided a good resting place. He spent all winter perched on the end of the metal arm with the protective awning at his back. The wren’s house sat silent across from him. Ralph joined me as I did dishes late at night and was there before the rising sun’s light broke through the dark early morning, flying off during the day to parts unknown.
It is hard to distinguish male and female wrens visually but they both love to sing. The Peterson Field Guide to Eastern Birds describes their voice as “a stuttering gurgling song, rising in a musical burst, then falling at the end.” The beak opens and a split second later, the stuttering song begins, the throat’s vibration carrying all the way down their little body to the tip of their tail as it quivers with the exertion.
Perhaps all the noisy to-do is a complicated mating ritual or perhaps they are bickering over house decorations – “move that twig just a scosh to the left please” or “the spider web padding goes in that corner, not this one”. They make trip after trip, carrying small twigs that usually fit through the hole; sometimes the sticks are too long and they fall to the ground. You can almost feel the wren’s resignation at having to try again. But eventually their nest will be just right. If I am lucky, I will get to witness the growth of a clutch of baby wrens. The last nesting pair gave me a beautiful honor. One morning, as the coffee brewed, I witnessed, cheered, and sighed as one fledgling after another left the nest on their first flights. Some went out strong taking off in full flight; others tentatively, landing on a lilac branch before heading out. One dropped like a rock, its fate unknown but imagined.
Yes, I am glad the wrens are back.
The Wright Place for the Right Meal
Healthy appetites and fieldwork go hand-in-hand. After many work trips to Wausau, Wisconsin, several restaurants spring to the top of my favorites list. I have had the pleasure of dining four times at the Wright Place on 6th and every meal has been more than satisfying.
First, three ground rules on restaurant selection: no fast food or chains, genuineness, and local food. This restaurant fits the bill. The Andrew Warren and the East Hill Residential Historic Districts, both listed on the National Register of Historic Places, surround the restaurant with beautifully restored examples of Greek Revival, Italianate, Queen Anne, Classical Revival and Prairie School architecture. The Wright Place draws its name from its builder, Ely Wright, and not, as I at first imagined, from Wisconsin’s architectural superstar Frank Lloyd Wright.
The Italianate building’s impeccable restoration, done with an obvious eye toward detail, fits right into the historic scene. The food and service continue this penchant for detail in all things. The menus rotate with the seasons, providing a rich array of fish, meat, and chicken dishes cooked to exacting standards by Chef Travis Teska. Both the owner, Patti Kay and Chef Teska share a common love of good food cooked well. They use as many as ten local producers, depending on the season.
Fridays feature a nod to Wisconsin tradition, pan-fried walleye. Prime rib and king crab legs celebrate Wednesdays as specialties. Entrees range in price from $18 to $30.
The accompaniments to a good meal are in ready supply here. The Poached Pear salad is a favorite of mine. I usually skip appetizers (in order to save room for the entrée) but I have tried the Salsa Baked Goat Cheese, the salsa a perfect match for the pungent goat cheese. For a light desert, the sorbet du jour or the handmade ice cream top off a tasty evening. Otherwise go for the strawberry rhubarb crisp or the chocolate cake.
The credible selection of house wines and most of the extensive wine list are available by the glass. Be prepared to pay by the bottle for reserve wines, though. Martinis are a specialty of the house.
Alas, the one thing in short supply here are vegetarian options. Mr. CartoGeek would be enjoying the architectural details and ambience more than he would the edibles. But, all and all, the Wright Place provides outstanding (meaty) meals and excellent service, a combination that is hard to beat.
Reservations encouraged anytime and recommended for Friday and Saturday nights.
The Wright Place on 6th
901 N. 6th St, Wausau, Wisconsin
Serving Monday through Saturday.
Dinner Hours: 4:30 to 10:00
Open Hours: 4:30 to Close
First, three ground rules on restaurant selection: no fast food or chains, genuineness, and local food. This restaurant fits the bill. The Andrew Warren and the East Hill Residential Historic Districts, both listed on the National Register of Historic Places, surround the restaurant with beautifully restored examples of Greek Revival, Italianate, Queen Anne, Classical Revival and Prairie School architecture. The Wright Place draws its name from its builder, Ely Wright, and not, as I at first imagined, from Wisconsin’s architectural superstar Frank Lloyd Wright.
The Italianate building’s impeccable restoration, done with an obvious eye toward detail, fits right into the historic scene. The food and service continue this penchant for detail in all things. The menus rotate with the seasons, providing a rich array of fish, meat, and chicken dishes cooked to exacting standards by Chef Travis Teska. Both the owner, Patti Kay and Chef Teska share a common love of good food cooked well. They use as many as ten local producers, depending on the season.
Fridays feature a nod to Wisconsin tradition, pan-fried walleye. Prime rib and king crab legs celebrate Wednesdays as specialties. Entrees range in price from $18 to $30.
The accompaniments to a good meal are in ready supply here. The Poached Pear salad is a favorite of mine. I usually skip appetizers (in order to save room for the entrée) but I have tried the Salsa Baked Goat Cheese, the salsa a perfect match for the pungent goat cheese. For a light desert, the sorbet du jour or the handmade ice cream top off a tasty evening. Otherwise go for the strawberry rhubarb crisp or the chocolate cake.
The credible selection of house wines and most of the extensive wine list are available by the glass. Be prepared to pay by the bottle for reserve wines, though. Martinis are a specialty of the house.
Alas, the one thing in short supply here are vegetarian options. Mr. CartoGeek would be enjoying the architectural details and ambience more than he would the edibles. But, all and all, the Wright Place provides outstanding (meaty) meals and excellent service, a combination that is hard to beat.
Reservations encouraged anytime and recommended for Friday and Saturday nights.
The Wright Place on 6th
901 N. 6th St, Wausau, Wisconsin
Serving Monday through Saturday.
Dinner Hours: 4:30 to 10:00
Open Hours: 4:30 to Close
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
‘Shrooming
May brings the illusive morel mushroom to southern Wisconsin. Muscoda, the self-proclaimed morel capitol of Wisconsin, hosts a festival in honor of the ‘shroom each year. Our afternoon’s mission: a festival, a taste, and a quest.
Muscoda (pronounced Musk-a-day) lies along the Wisconsin River. Following the gently curving Lower Wisconsin River Road to the festival brought glimpses of the slow-moving river through floodplain forest and a string of small towns. Festival booths lined several blocks of Main Street, a wide thoroughfare with ample parking for cars and low-slung Harleys. Leather-clad bikers shared picnic tables with fresh-faced tikes; Mennonite women served home-made pastries to passer-bys. The latest energy-balancing iTouch technology sat next to the best Kettle corn in the county.
The highlight for everyone, though, was the mushrooms. We queued up along the sidewalk outside of City Hall in anticipation of a taste. Enthusiastic chefs manned three industrial-size cast-iron skillets, sautéing the fungi to perfection in butter. Mushrooms, no matter how they are cooked, are chewy; these were no different. Each dripping forkful, though, held a nutty flavor on the tongue, earning “yums” from everyone.
Secret number one: cook with lots of butter.
Magicians rarely reveal the secrets of their trade. Neither do experienced mushroom hunters. They all have their “spots”, nothing but generalities for us novices and certainly no maps. Look for dead elms (but not too dead), south-facing slopes, and get your “eyes on”. We picked close-by Governor Dodge State Park for our quest. I was glad we hit the festival first because we came up empty handed. What we did find was: four different kinds of fungi, a field of purple lupines, waterfalls, and best of all, easy camaraderie on a picture-perfect Wisconsin spring day.
Secret number two: Butter up an expert before you go hunting.
Images: CartoGeek, Muscoda, Wisconsin and Governor Dodge State Park, 2010
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