upon the more popular paddling trips our state offers. This book strives to be both a part of that guidebook tradition as well as apart from it by detailing trip ideas for a surprisingly rich paddling territory that has previously been forgotten or ignored.
The premise of this book is simple: 60 trips within 60 miles of Madison. Why Madison? For one, it’s where I live, plus it’s the state’s capital. For another, it’s centrally located in southern Wisconsin, which, while not as abundant as the state’s northern portion in opportunities to “get away from it all,” is nonetheless rich in outdoor offerings—they just take a little more time and inclination to find. In addition to convenience, Madison provides a tidy geological demarcation: Everything to the east was glaciated in the last ice age some 13,000 years ago, while everything to the west wasn’t. With Madison at the center, the 60-mile circumference extends to Platteville to the southwest, Horicon to the northeast, Lake Geneva to the southeast, and Wonewoc to the northwest.
Purists might disregard the premise of a paddling guidebook whose target area is south central Wisconsin, due to the urban sprawl associated with the Madison and Milwaukee suburbs, not to mention the agriculture in between. Yet not everyone has the time or means to spend a week up in the Boundary Waters or even Sylvania. Not everyone can or wants to spend a week down the Flambeau River. Wilderness areas are spectacular, to be sure, but they’re often impractical for most of us who seek some communion with the outdoors on a more regular basis. This book is intended for folks who can’t feasibly work in those types of adventures with regularity but nonetheless yearn for paddling excursions.
Nature is all around us; we do not need to venture far to find it. Being “in touch with nature” should not be the exclusive privilege of those with the means to leave their own homes in hopes of some kind of exotic escapism. Nature is outside and outdoors, you bet, but not necessarily “out there” in some metaphysical landscape off the grid requiring a long drive and a full tank of gas. My backyard doesn’t look like the backdrop to an REI ad, but I can drive 20 minutes and find a Class I trout stream with Class I rapids surrounded by an ancient valley of glacial hills—and still make it home in time for the Packers game.
This book primarily offers single-day outings, with the exception of a few trips that require a one-night minimum campout on a river (or two nights, depending on your pace and water levels). The landscapes these rivers and creeks course through are as varied as the streams themselves: Driftless cliffs and glacier-deposited drumlin hills, gentle prairies and wind-swept marshes, oak savannas and floodplain swamps, just to name a few. You won’t see bears or wolves down here, but otters and yellow-crowned night herons are good bets.
No trip in this book requires expert skills, though I have distinguished those who are new to paddling (“Beginners”) from those who have many miles under their belts (“Experienced”). Because of the broad range of this guide, some of the trips here are bound to disappoint one kind of paddler as “not enough” while intimidating another paddler as “too much.” Duck Creek in Columbia County might be too dull for some but is perfect for beginners, kids, and bird-watchers. The Little Platte River in Grant County is a jubilation for experienced paddlers but too dangerous for newbies.
Just the same, it is my hope that this book inspires an appreciation for our local landscape through water, whatever one’s paddling experience.
Just as no one part represents the whole, the story of Wisconsin’s streams is told big and wide as well as small and meandering. I have presented here the bustling Dells, together with the solitude of the Montello River and the literal circus and calliope of the Baraboo River, alongside the quiet rustle of Badfish Creek.
This book encompasses some 11,000 square miles in territory. More than 560 miles of rivers and lakes are covered here, not including another 240 that I personally paddled but did not pass muster.
In selecting which trips to profile for this guide, I have tried to be as inclusive as possible while advocating for those places about which there is not already plenty of information. But I decided it would be quixotic to the point of preposterous not to include certain popular trips, too, however well known and elsewhere covered. (I will be the first to wax poetic about the incomparable Wisconsin Dells. In much the same way that Todd Snider still loves to sing “Beer Run” at every concert so many years later and after a million times performed, I will defend paddling down the Dells to my dying breath. The area now caters to tourists and has become distractingly tacky, yet there simply is nowhere else in the state with such exquisite riverside geology.) Where I have recapitulated certain sections of rivers that are covered in other guides, I have furnished new information or added my own twist. Even seasoned veterans of our rivers can find something new to discover in this book.
Another of my guiding principles in sharing the trips featured here has been a sense of balance: Do the pros outweigh the cons? Some trips in this book require putting up with an impediment or two. Ducking underneath low-hanging branches or bridges and riding over the occasional log is par for the course. It is my belief that portaging, while seldom welcome, is part of the paddling experience. When deadfall and logjams are a likely albeit infrequent occurrence on a trip, I will point them out. But I have opted not to include trips whose nuisances and obstructions are so prominent as to undermine the whole reason for being outdoors in the first place. Mill Creek in Iowa County and Honey Creek in Sauk County, for example, are both rich in potential but poor in reward due to their many frustrations.
Just as I sought a departure from the conventional wisdom of most paddling guidebooks by featuring lesser-touted trips, I have also distinguished this guide by including lakes. (Of the five lake trips in the book, four are on lakes that prohibit all but electric boat motors; Red Cedar Lake is in a designated state natural area where all motors are prohibited.) I prefer moving rivers to staid lakes, but there’s a lot to like in a lake. A lake is a great place to get one’s feet wet in a canoe or kayak. Plus, there are no shuttling logistics to work out when paddling lakes, there are typically no obstacles, and there is something downright majestic about letting yourself drift on a calm lake at sunrise or sunset. But moving water is a dynamic all its own, so it’s wise to learn some basics of boat control, even on still water.
While lakes are pretty lazy, on a windy day they are suddenly awoken from their slumber and aroused, heaving waves one after another. Here in the Upper Midwest, the closest proxy to sea kayaking is the Great Lakes; alas, neither Lake Michigan nor Lake Superior falls within a 60-mile range of Madison. But when the wind is whipping at 20 miles per hour and up, splashy whitecaps as high as 2 feet can form on Lakes Koshkonong and Mendota, the largest two lakes in south central Wisconsin. Bobbing up and down and riding these modest waves make for a fun rodeo-type outing, provided that you have the right gear and know how to roll a kayak or perform a wet entry.
As for the streams featured in this book, they are purposefully varied. They range from 15 feet to more than 500 feet wide; some are only a few inches deep, others seemingly infinite. There are streams with gradients of 10 feet per mile (fpm) or more, with the effect of frisky riffles and fun rapids, and those that give tortoises a run for their money. There are streams that meander and those so straight you can set a rudder on automatic pilot. Some streams can be run all year long, and some are more fickle, requiring a delicate balance between just enough rain to run without scraping and so much rain that the stream becomes pushy and unsafe. Some of these trips are entirely urban (but still highly desirable), such as Turtle Creek in Beloit, while others are a true getaway, such as the White River in Neshkoro. Regardless, most of the trips here begin and/or end near a town for ease of access and practicality.
