My husband is demanding a blog entry summarizing our camping trip. Instead I think I'll write three. The camping-type excursion we engaged in the most was hiking. Each day we went on a different trail, carefully selecting the shortest loops.
All of the trails visited cliffs showing off the majesty of the park. Not being a heights person to begin with, and having a toddler along, I found myself constantly repeating "careful, careful" until my son began chanting "I will be careful. I will not be careful" as he stepped over tree-roots and around mud puddles. I stood between him and the drop-off whenever I could, but I wasn't as freaked out as I thought I would be.
I'd been on most of these hikes when we came here two summers ago, when William was the age Jadzia is now. The quiet serenity of nature was somewhat diminished this time. My family tends to fill any space it inhabits, even the great Algonquin forest. This is a good thing, lots of fun, lots of laughter, lots of love, resulting in a completely different hiking experience.
And a tip: if it has been raining, don't go on the Whiskey Rapids trail. The second half of the loop is a giant mudpie with no way around. You'd think this would be true of all the trails, but the rest were fine despite the rain.
