Don't Forget to Drink

Why you shouldn't hike 28 miles on less than 2 liters of water

This post is part of my Type 2 Fun series, where I write about the less glamorous side of my outdoor adventures. Not familiar with the concept of Type 2 fun?

I never plan to get dehydrated when I spend time outdoors, but it happens more often than I’d like to admit. I have to use a hydration bladder with a tube just inches from my mouth for hiking and backpacking because I can’t trust myself to stop and get a water bottle out of my pack, even if I’m parched.

To be clear, I like water! I know some people shy away from it in favor of more flavorful drinks, but I’m not avoiding it on purpose. I just don’t take adequate breaks on trail—unless brief pauses to photograph the mossy rocks and mushroom-y logs count.

Morning trailhead selfie!

A couple years ago, my poor hydration habits caught up with me on a day hike that has since become a cautionary tale for myself. That spring I had been itching to see what I was capable of and decided to push myself past my typical daily mileage of 12 to 16 miles. This urge wasn’t for bragging rights, but for added confidence in case something went wrong in the backcountry—what if there was a fire or other emergency and I had to evacuate after a full day of backpacking? I wanted proof that my legs could handle at least 25 miles if the need arose.

Rather than just starting at dawn and hiking until I keeled over, I added some structure to my day with the Hall of Kamer challenge from the Lakeshore Chapter of the Ice Age Trail Alliance. Upon completing that 27 mile section¹ of the Ice Age Trail through the Northern Unit of the Kettle Moraine State Forest, I could send in my completion form for a patch—a pretty good way to commemorate the day! Plus, it’s a hummocky area and I felt that would only add to my sense of accomplishment.

I chose the week of the summer solstice to give myself as much daylight as possible and conscripted my parents into being my shuttle at the end of the hike. Then I stuffed my day pack with snacks, rain gear, headlamp, extra socks, first aid kit, and Sawyer Squeeze water filter².

Sunshine filtering through a lush, green canopy always makes me smile

Sunrise was at 5:11am, but the parking lot technically didn’t open until 6am so I started my hike in daylight. I shared the trail with only a handful of runners and though it was mid-June, there was enough of a morning chill that I wore a sweatshirt for the first five miles. My morning goal was to hike 10 miles by 10am and I made it with two minutes to spare, even with hourly breaks to eat a snack and sip some water. I couldn’t have asked for a better start!

Lunch at Butler Lake—a bit over 12 miles into my day—was where things started going wrong. I wanted to top up my 2L hydration bladder, but the water pump next to the parking lot wouldn’t flow. I pumped the handle a dozen times or more and couldn’t get even a drip. I was only a few hundred feet from the lake, so I considered just filtering water with my Sawyer Squeeze, however, I could hear a couple guys fishing down there and I was hesitant about getting dragged into a conversation about why I was filtering instead of using the pump. I decided to just eat lunch and wait to fill up until I got to the next water source, since I wasn’t particularly low yet.

While eating, I noticed that the bite valve on the tubing of my hydration bladder was discolored and—in one of the most thoughtless decisions I’ve ever made on trail—I removed it for a closer look. The first problem was that the plastic had grown a layer of mold that I was unable to wipe off.³ The second was that without the bite valve in place, water could flow freely through the tubing. About 300 mL of water spilled onto the picnic table before I realized my folly.

Thank (or curse) the glaciers for the rocks on the trail!

I made one last feeble attempt to refill at Butler Lake before getting back on the trail with my now depleted water supply. The high of achieving my “10 before 10” goal had made me hungry to reach other arbitrary goals and I didn’t want to be slowed down.

The next water pump was further along the trail than I had expected—about 7.5 miles—and I couldn’t get it to flow either. Now I was worrying, both about my water supply and about whether I was just incompetent at using the pumps. I still had another 7.5 miles to go until I met my parents, so I took a break to think and to eat my most liquid snacks, two of those applesauce pouches that are marketed towards toddlers. I pulled up the trail map on FarOut and saw that the Greenbush Group Camp was only a mile further and offered potable water. Everything was going to be okay.

Or at least, it should have been. Instead, I missed the turnoff and by the time I noticed, I was far enough away that I didn’t want to backtrack. Not my best decision, but I’d already struggled enough with water pumps that I wasn’t keen on adding on more mileage for one that may or may not actually flow.

Along the Ice Age Trail in the Northern Unit of the Kettle Moraine State Forest

I continued on for another couple miles and found myself across the street from a bar.⁴ Anyone who has hiked the Ice Age Trail knows that one of the benefits of a trail that weaves its way throughout Wisconsin is the abundance of bars within spitting distance of the route. And I’m not just talking about when the trail passes through an actual town—if there’s a road crossing, there’s a chance for beer and a glass of ice water nearby.

Honestly, I was confused at first because the building looked like a house, but there was an Old Style sign hanging out front—the Midwestern version of a mirage in the desert. I slowed down and debated my options.

I only had three miles left and my parents were already on their way to pick up my car and then drive it to meet me. I knew they had packed a water bottle for me, so that was a confirmed water source, plus I didn’t want to make them wait around in the parking lot when they doing me a huge favor. I knew nothing about this bar—whether it even was a bar or just the residence of someone who really loved Old Style. And my deepest worry—what if I sat down for a drink and then lost the motivation to finish my hike? I was so close. Stubbornness won out, so I passed by the oasis and kept walking.

Slowly, but surely I completed my goal before sunset!

I made it to the final trailhead before sunset and before my parents, so I had a few moments to decompress on a bench by myself. I had completed my goal—hurrah!—but was a bit embarrassed by long it took me to hike it. Almost immediately, I conceded that I probably could have moved faster if I had slowed down earlier in the day to actually sort out my water issue at Butler Lake.

My parents arrived soon after and whisked me off to Culver’s for a butterburger, onion rings, and about a liter of liquid. I suffered no damage from dehydration, but it was a rough enough day that I learned my lesson. I still don’t always drink as much as I should, but now I don’t turn down refill opportunities.

An Ice Age Trail volunteer I know often proclaims that his motto is, “Pass no bench.” This experience gave me a saying of my own. When I need a reminder to slow down and make better decisions on trail, I tell myself, “If you see a trailside bar, you have to stop for a drink.” After all, very few of them will turn out to be mirages.

1. I added in some bonus mileage to get me to the trailhead from the New Fane parking lot, as well an extra 300 feet here and there as I took detours for pit toilets, picnic tables, and scenic overlooks for a total (according to my Garmin inReach Mini, which was set to 1 second tracking intervals) of 28.5 miles.

2. On my planning document, I wrote: “Refill water at every spout, but also bring Sawyer Squeeze in case I need to filter.” However, you know what they say about best laid plans!

3. Turns out it’s super cheap and easy to replace the plastic piece that is prone to mold, but I didn’t know that at the time and I got myself into a swivet because I thought I needed replace the entire hydration bladder, which is molded to perfectly fit into my daypack.

4. This section of trail was rerouted this past September, so the bar is no longer obviously visible as you hike by. However, it’s still only about a 500 foot detour to grab a drink at Nicolaus Haus. You can also learn more about the trail reroute project and see some action shots of me in my favorite overalls at: www.iceagetrail.org/high-quality-tread-improves-hiker-experience-on-greenbush-segment