Indeed the creek's level had fallen.  It had fallen a good six-plus feet, allowing us to wander at our leisure and wander we did.  Johnny slid, grabbed, straddled, climbed, and slid some more while grinning from ear to ear the entire time.

We hit the end of this part of the "trail" and had to bushwhack up the side of the hill before regaining the paved pathway.  I knew where we were going, but did not let on.  Johnny climbed hard while using one of the poles I had brought.  When we reached the well paved track, the now mud-covered little four-year old yelled out "Dad, I found it!"  I smiled while swelling with pride.

I had brought a stove and heated up some celebratory hot cocoa.  This was no new thing to Amber as she wandered off to search for local fungus, but Johnny was elated.  He sipped down the sweet, warming chocolate soup before I pulled out some Swedish Fish; His favorite. 

After snacking, I packed up before asking Johnny what way we should go.  I pointed out a cross country route and asked the little tike if he would lead.  He yelled out a "yep!" with assurance before asking his big sister to follow close behind.  

We reached the end of the bushwhack before hitting the pavement once more.  We set off towards the parking lot, aiming for another lap just to see how the other bridges were holding up.

A long trip around the entire park took the best out of the little man.  It was a jaunt for Amber who has done 18 mile day hikes with 5000 vertical feel included in them.  But for me, it was the smell of the forest, the moss on the trees, the fallen maple leaves, the wet grass, and the creek that was barely tamed that sparked the glow inside that reminded me of why.

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