Leave It to Beaver

Yes, I am old enough to remember the iconic TV show called Leave It to Beaver airing in the 50's and 60's. Sometimes I miss June Cleaver with her perfectly coiffed hair and Ward Cleaver with his perfectly groomed suit. The "Beav" and his older brother Wally were always entertaining and, of course, the obsequious Eddie Haskell often stole the show. They never had a theme park named after them but there is a park near my fair city that carries a bit of their name, Beaver Creek Nature Area.

This nature area was developed to increase environmental awareness as well as highlight its historical context. It is about 150 acres of secluded woodlands along Beaver Creek. There is no fee to enter the park and it is a good place to visit if you appreciate solitude.

The trail system is fairly well-maintained but can be narrow and a bit gnarly at times. Most of the trails are loops which I appreciate given my tendency to get lost.

Sometimes it is good to practice your Limbo skills when a tree is leaning across the trail. I scrunched under it with a little groaning. I had no audience so there was no reason to get flashy with my technique.

Despite our ongoing drought, the creek had a few "rapids". I did not see any kayaking frogs making their way along the stream so the adventure guides must have had the day off.

I always enjoy a bridge when I need to cross moving water. This one was particularly picturesque. And sturdy. I like sturdy.

On the other hand, this suspension bridge gave me a case of the heebie jeebies, not to mention a little bit of vertigo.

In addition, the suspension bridge had big x's painted on many of the floor boards. I found that a bit disconcerting but I am glad the color matched my toe nail polish. Thoughtful of them.

I did not have the trails to myself. This little guy was employing his Jacobson's organ to the fullest extent as he slithered full bore toward me. He had places to go and things to do. You do you, little guy.

The trails had excellent signage but, as per usual, I can get lost in a barrel. I took a wild guess at which way to go at this fork in the trail. The looping system in the park was helpful but I popped out of the trail system with no vehicle in sight. Fortunately, I have learned the art of acting like I know where I am going and I somehow stumbled onto the correct road and found my vehicle, safe and sound.

Before I left the park, I explored its historical cabin. It belonged to John and Anna Samuelson who homesteaded here in 1869 from Sweden. They raised eight children in this cabin. Anna's face on the commemorative plaque looked rather dour. No surprise.

There is a presentation area near the cabin which I assume is used for the annual Homesteader Harvest Days that are held in the park in September. I have never attended the festivities but the information sounded intriguing, especially if biscuits are involved. Bring on the gravy.

No park is complete without a restroom. It was clean and spacious which beats a port-a-potty any day.

I will leave you with one last view. My shadow and I looked downward on this set of rather steep steps and made the decision to proceed slowly forward. Very slowly. Old lady face plants are not pretty. We made it safely and we lived to hike another day.