After we got our chores done, or most of them, and after Hop had taken his nap (blessedly long), we went to the park. I put on a sweatshirt, packed Hop's bag with a juice box and a couple of cookies, popped his helmet on his head, and loaded him in the trailer. We biked to Indian Trail park, which I ride by on my way to school. Located at the southwest corner of Indian Trail and Albany, and just east of the Hillandale golf course (should you be so curious as to follow along on Google Earth), the park is tucked among tall, dense trees. A greenway trail follows a creek from Guess Road to and through the park, but we didn't ride along the greenway trail. After we passed under I-85 going south on Guess Road, we turned right immediately on Sovereign rather than continuing past Hog Heaven to reach the trailhead. It's a short ride up Sovereign and then a nice downhill coast to the park (not so much fun on the return trip).
Hopper LOVED the park, and I quite liked it, too. The playground features two large, elderly play structures. They must have been extremely advanced at the time of their installation. They are still impressive, with many fun features that are now commonly made of plastic, but here were made of good old timber and steel. A lot of it was frankly dangerous. Hop was eager to climb everything; since he's still a shorty with little feet, that requires a lot of parental spotting and lifting. So we both played and played and played. We climbed and slid and bounced and jumped and scrambled and ran around and around and around. What fun! Finally, when I was tired and it was almost time to head home, I told Hop to come and get his juice box and cookie.
He clearly didn't want to leave, so I asked if he wanted me to just leave him there and let him become a feral Hopper. He laughed and smirked from his perch on the play structure, so I got on my bike and started pedalling around the sidewalk that looped the playground. Hop, of course, freaked out and started trying to chase after me: "Mommy, wait!" So I stopped, and said "I'm glad you want to come with me after all," but as soon as I was off my bike he was back to playing. So I got back on and rode around the loop again, with similar results, and finally grabbed him, put his helmet on and strapped him into the trailer under heavy protest.
Once we were well under way, Hop calmed down and enjoyed the ride. We got home several minutes before Skip arrived at home from his fishing trip. When Skip pulled up, Hop was out on the sidewalk, happily refusing to come outside and daring me (who had already removed my shoes in the entryway) to follow him onto the wet, muddy grass. He was thrilled to see his daddy and ran to meet him as soon as the car was parked. Skip had a great time on the fishing trip, and even found a large population of my plants. He didn't bring any back for me, however, being too ethical to collect without a permit.
I meant to take my camera to the park. I'm sorry that I forgot. With the cloudy sky, the wooded backdrop, and the peeling and faded, dark, autumnal paint colors of the playground, and Hopper's good mood, it would have made for some very nice portraits of my little son. Perhaps we will go again soon, and I will remember the camera. I feel that we have conquered a little bit more of our new territory.
So mommy and I google-mapped/street viewed the path you took to the park, and toured it as much as we could - all because we just wish we could be there to do it with Hopper. Makes us sound kind of pathetic, but still, that's the way it is.
ReplyDeleteWhoa, wait! This is the park I went to with Hopper! I felt, and he still felt, exactly the same way about the park. I really liked the play structures except for how much I had to chase Hopper because they are, as you say, frankly pretty dangerous. We also played pooh-sticks at the creek, but its flow was too rough for it to work very well. But that hour or so I spent with him at the park were some of the happiest of my life. No, really.
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