Schofield, WI

Mountain Bay State Trail

Run Time: 63:55 + 2-minute kick

I am not sure where Mountain Bay is, in relation to Schofield. We seemed to be rather far inland for a bay to be in close proximity. Like much of the Mideast, there are bodies of water all around, and groundwater lurking a cm or so below the surface, but a bay implies an ocean, sea, or large body of water. The nearest Great Lake was a hundred miles away. Not to mention that no mountains are to be found for many times that distance. So, one would have to conclude that the trail is either very long or misnamed.

It was a delightful trail, nonetheless. Tree-lined and away from traffic, it started out paved and eventually gave way to dirt and fine gravel. The only downsides were its flatness and straightness. Of course, flatness and straightness are not downsides in relation to the goal of getting from Point A to Point B, so the trail was utilitarian in its simplicity.

Also, flat and straight work well for snowmobiling, one might assume. It was not surprising when I encountered a State Park sign asking me if I knew the snowmobile was invented in Wisconsin. I have run on Wisconsin snowmobile trails on many occasions. They are extremely well-maintained. Plus, they are demonstrably multi-use.

I have never ridden on a snowmobile, nor do I plan to. I had a motorcycle when I was 11, and I enjoyed it for a few years, but I have moved out of the motorsports phase of my life. It was short. I survived it, thankfully. I dumped my motorcycle on a dirt airstrip that had been decommissioned and plowed up to plant trees, launching me several motorcycle lengths through the late teenage summer air. The dirt was soft, so when I face-planted, it merely filled my mouth with dirt rather than cause physical injury. My friends rode over to me and thought all of my teeth had been knocked out — that was how much dirt had gotten in. My advice? Scream with your mouth closed while catapulting off a motorcycle.

That incident was not what stopped me from riding motorcycles. The incident that stopped me was me trying to do minor maintenance on my motorcycle (translation: taking things apart to see how they worked). I messed up the clutch and made it unrideable. I didn’t want to tell anyone, so it sat in the garage for a few years till my dad got rid of it somehow. I had purchased a 1949 Willys Jeep by that time, so I was content with four wheels of adventure.

The Willys didn’t last long, either. It had no top, which made its use problematic. It also would not go faster than 60 mph. There were other limitations, such as a stick for a fuel gauge, limited seating, and no mirrors. I loved it, though, and I wish now I had kept it rather than trading it for a ’71 LeMans, which I crashed into a tree just after graduating high school.

There was insufficient snow where I grew up in Oregon to warrant a snowmobile. It was a great place for motorcycles and Willys Jeeps, however. There were fields where dirt bike riders congregated and created their own elaborate tracks and trail systems. It just happened organically, if you can use that term to describe something mechanical. At some point, lawyers and property developers put an end to that era. The land where Intel now sits in Hillsboro, Oregon, was once an enormous four-wheeling site.

Oh, well. Progress, right?