US-51 north out of Minocqua, WI. There’s a line of traffic strung out behind me waiting for a chance to pass. With each minute, the line gets longer, and almost certainly to the chagrin of most of them the truck right behind me seems to be equally happy with 55 mph, making passing both of us a chore.
A blue sign announces WAYSIDE 1/2 MILE. I slow down and turn left off the highway. The traffic behind me continues on northward. The wayside road winds left and then right, descending into to a shady grove.
There’s are picnic table here across a green lawn under large Oaks and Pines. And there’s a trail beyond that goes thru a woods, dropping further down to a small lake with gentle waves reflecting the afternoon sunlight. A cool breeze blows off the water.
A Red Pine root makes a perfect seat. It’s peaceful here. A good place to spend a few minutes and let more yearning traffic drive north. But the sun will go down behind the treetops before long, and there’s a campsite to set up before dark. It’s time to go.
I walk back up the trail thru the woods, climbing the gnarled tree root stairway. Then, after just a few steps, a loon calls loudly once. Then twice. Then again a third time.
