We Finally Used Our Golden Ticket

As a Christmas gift, our neighbors gave us a year's pass for all NYS parks.  We should have been trekking to parks since April when it became active, but we forgot about it until last week.  I fished it out of the drawer, stuffed it in my wallet, and forgot about it some more until John greeted me a few mornings ago with a daytrip plan.

He didn't have to twist my arm into neglecting the garden for one more day in search of hikes and falls, so we were off.

The first park welcomed us with a cheerful yellow sign.

They must have tacked it up the minute they heard we were coming.

I only have one picture of our hike at Buttermilk Falls. John and I split our parenting tasks:  he pushed Zeke in the jogging stroller up a sheer cliff face, over gnarled roots, and around narrow, winding trails, with Luci strapped to his back, while I took one picture of two girls resting on a fallen log.

Fair's fair.

Immediately after descending, we drove a few miles down the road to the second state park of the day.  It was ninety-odd degrees, and we caught a whiff of permitted swimming, so there was no question regarding where we'd spend the rest of our daytrip hours.

First, a picnic lunch was in order.

Zeke enjoyed an after-dinner cigar stick, 

while we sat for a bit.

We weren't sure where the swimming took place; I was envisioning a creek, myself, but, it turns out, I was mistaken.  It was a stony beach, instead!


 


It looks more crowded than it felt, and even though the water plunging down the falls was too cold for some of us (me) to immediately submerge ourselves, it was refreshing enough for others (John) to jump off the diving board in front of the falls and to twice try walking the base of the falls.






We lingered there for the rest of the day, by turns stretching on sun-soaked rocks and venturing into the water to cool off.   (Millie's not in these pictures because she spent the entire time wandering the water, not because we left her at home.)

Side note: although Zeke's face here doesn't reflect it, he is fast becoming a water baby.  Three cheers!

 

This is one case in which I'd love history to repeat itself.