All Roads to the River / Lime Kiln Shadows
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find
You get what you need. - Mick Jagger, the Rolling Stones.
It was a day that started out with great plans. My husband and I would leave the house before 10, make a quick stop to pick up a package on the way, and drive to Altoona for a lovely breakfast at Eat 'n Park. From there, we'd head to Canoe Creek State Park, which we haven't visited since last September, for a swim in their 155-acre lake.
Only things didn't quite go down that way! We got to the post office to pick up my package, but there were two parties ahead of me. Both of them had long, intensive projects being worked on. The pony-tailed, white-haired guy on the left had 20 or 30 envelopes; each needed attention. The couple on the right were filling out papers for a passport. Let me tell ya, it wasn't "just a few clicks." It went on and on.
I waited 15 minutes, impatiently. By the time I got out of there, it became obvious we weren't making it to Altoona before 11 a.m., which is when the breakfast special we'd wanted would end. I was feeling cranky, but my husband came up with an alternative plan in the car: Why don't we stop at the Burger King in Tyrone, each get a $5 bag, and still go swimming at Canoe Creek?
My $5 bag, which went a long way toward putting me in a better frame of mind, included a Whopper Jr., a tiny bag of fries, four nuggets, ranch dipping sauce, and a drink. We wolfed down our food. With a better attitude, we continued on our merry way.
When we got to Canoe Creek, my husband dropped me off at the education center, and I hiked up to the abandoned lime kilns and back. I've shown these to you before, so let me link to that, so you can see the big picture. In the extras is a shot of just one of the archways. It was just about noon exactly; the light and shadows seemed very strange. I almost thought I saw a cross on the wall to the right!
A ranger was presenting an educational program to a small audience. I suspect it was a special accessible event, as there was just the ranger and an older couple, with the man with a long beard using a wheel chair. I hovered nearby; listened in; was interested to learn some local history: about the Irish who fought in the Revolutionary War, Jenny Lind's visit to the States, the limestone and its importance to the steel-making industries in Pittsburgh.
I walked back down to the beach area, to a picnic table in the shade where my husband was waiting, with our chairs, bags, and drinks. I went into the ladies' changing rooms to put my swimsuit on, and I decided to check out the showers. Oh, Lord. In one of them stood a small, very sad, distressed, and exhausted looking bird.
Well, you know how I am. I took a picture of the bird first thing. And thought about what to do. Concluded that I should go get a ranger or park staff to help. Started walking away. Decided to come back for another look: perhaps I could just use a towel to nab the bird and transport it outside? (And no, this wasn't my first attempt at bird rescue, oh no!)
It looked like an exhausted bird who had gone inside and gotten trapped there. A door was open; perhaps that was how it came in; could it find its way back out? If left indoors without food or water, such a bird might die within a few days. I couldn't stand the thought of it.
I opened the shower curtain, looked in. The bird was GONE. I mean: GONE. Not a trace of it. I walked all around the showers. Walked all around the fitting room. Looked in a bunch of corners. Looked up to the rafters. Did not see a bird. Hmmph. Gave up for now. Decided I'd look again when I came back in for a shower after my swim. (Never saw it again, but I did send the photo in an email to the park office once I got home, asking for them to look for the little bird and help it if they could.)
We did, in fact, have a very nice swim. It was swim #9 for the summer. (Yes, I AM counting.) The water was quite clean there, at least near shore. It was the warmest lake water we have swum in yet this summer.
We were about to witness another bird situation. As I swam, I noticed a mama duck and about six babies. They swam right past us, such a lovely family. They did swim right through the swimming area, and believe me, I was keeping a close eye on the little boys who started to move toward the birds, in case any interventions might be needed.
But the birds made it through the swim area, got out of the water at the far end of the beach. Okay, good. But then, oh no. A few minutes later, there was such a squawking and all kinds of commotion! There had been a family fishing in that area, and one of the little birds had gotten a fishing line and hook caught in it!
Well, suddenly, there were adults running, and the ranger was brought down. And the ranger told the people (he explained to my husband later) that the little bird was being quite stressed by being held by them, and should be released. He said it did have a fishing hook, but the hook might dissolve over time. The best place for the little bird was with its mother.
As we watched, with much interest, they took the little bird over, put it back in the water, there was MUCH hoopla and squawking and noise and surface-flapping from the excited mother, and then the little family took out again, on its journey around the lake.
We finished our swim, and my husband had a happy suggestion: since we had a little extra time (the quick lunch at BK in Tyrone didn't suck up the whole hour that a nice breakfast at Eat 'n Park in Altoona would have), why didn't we make a quick stop at the Lower Trail, along the Frankstown Branch of the Juniata River? Would I like to do that? Well, WOULD I!!!????
So we took a side trip over to Water Street, which wasn't at all out of our way, parked at the flea market, and walked down to the first couple of benches. I climbed down to the river and took photos of the view, reflections, and sycamores, of which this shot above is one.
The trees were green, the water was lovely (but not flowing fast), and it was just as pretty as a picture. There was a fine breeze in some spots; not so much in others. In the still spots, there were mosquitoes, which were quite hungry. There were people riding bikes, ladies pushing strollers, very few people doing what we were, which was to say: walking along the river.
We just had time for a quick visit, not even a half-hour. Then we walked back up through the flea market, I found a pair of pretty teapots I liked, and spent a dollar apiece on them. (I couldn't actually find any price info on them, but there was a sign nearby that said All items on this table $1. So I figured that a buck apiece was fair.)
So that is the story of a day that featured some unexpected twists, that almost included a nice Eat 'n Park breakfast, but didn't. That might have faced a cancellation of adventure plans, but didn't. And as it turned out, the breakfast we missed gave us a little extra time on the other end of our day to visit the Lower Trail, one of my favorite local river spots, and somehow yet a place we hardly ever get to!
I have two photos to show you to document our big summer adventure. So let me give you two songs to go with them. First, I love rivers and I love songs about water. This is one that you've heard before and will hear again: John Mellencamp, with To the River. And second, for the adventure that took a twist that made it seem like we couldn't do what we wanted to, but then we sorta did, here are the Rolling Stones, with You Can't Always Get What You Want. (But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find You get what you need!)
P.S. This story includes two episodes in which wild birds were in peril. Know that if you visit a park or partake in some other sort of outdoors adventure, you may encounter wildlife in distress. Please do your part to teach your children well: to be respectful of wildlife, to keep a reasonable distance, to NOT HARASS wildlife, especially ones with babies, and to be ready to help, but only if assistance is needed. This has been your wildlife public service announcement for the day!
P.P.S. You may learn the REST of the bird story here. Guess what! The poor little bird in the shower . . . it gets a happy ending!
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