Northwoods, III

I hate really, really long posts, so this is a continuation of yesterday's post, Northwoods, II.

Smack dab in the middle of one of the family's fields were train tracks. Superdad's grandmother would tell stories of hobos coming up to the house and asking if they could do work in exchange for food. Apparently this was a common enough occurrence that it was prepared for. Expected, even. There was always wood to be chopped or something to be fixed and a meal was a fair bargain in trade for finished work.

Those train tracks are now gone, but the land on which they sat is still a clear path, perfect for walking and biking. About a mile in, and not accessible by roads, is an old train trestle. That was our destination Saturday afternoon. Superdad's brother loaded up all the kids' bikes (five, in all: my two kids' bikes [Elisabeth was carried], my niece and nephew's bikes and my brother-in-law's girlfriend's daughter's bike), I made sure my camera had fresh batteries and a fresh memory card and Super Grandma made sure there were enough water bottles to go around.

The walk to the trestle took awhile since there was lots to stop and look at. Hank found a turtle, Elisabeth insisted on walking and Cody, my nephew, got stuck in some mud and when he was pulled out his shoes stayed in the mud--yuck!

Eventually we arrived, and it was beautiful.


I just love old barns. Don't you?


The kids, naturally, wanted to make their way down to the river bank. Superdad and I obliged and took the herd, minus Elisabeth, down the steep embankment.



It was a perfect, perfect day.