The Patapsco Slasher

Indian summer walk

This is as good as it gets in November. Hit the river at 9:00, only two other cars. The boys were beside themselves, bouncing and singing on the ride to the parking area. The leaves were falling madly every time the slightest breeze blew. The leaves covered the river. Fresh ones floating, the bottom carpeted with food for the invertebrates over the cold winter.

The slasher was there. Nothing to slash now, so he had a book in his hands. I wonder how he feels, on the trail alone, when approached by me and my bundles of energy. Does he feel sad and alone? Relieved to have his peace. Does it remind him of his kids before they left home, or has he never even had a girlfriend?

Snack at lunch rock, brief stop at the powerline. We walked to the end of the pavement, it’s impossible with the double stroller after that. I never like turning around. Can’t wait until the boys are big enough to walk the whole way so we can explore a little more. Coming back there were people everywhere. Walking, biking, fishing. Dogged and dogless.

I suspect that will be the last short-sleeved walk of 2006.

How on earth

does a person begin a blog?

Oh.

That wasn't so bad.

I've lived walking distance from the Patapsco River near Daniels for 8 years now. I've fished, swam, hiked, biked, and pushed strollers many many miles. I've picked mushrooms, mulberries, blackberries, wineberries and many a bag of trash from along it's banks. Watched deer, foxes, beaver, and many kinds of waterfowl. I've studied the history of the river, and talked to many who grew up here. I have some stories to share.