|Crossing the Little Miami River|
You know I have an overactive imagination concerning serial killers and at one point on the path I felt threatened by some other visitors. A group of four people that looked like they came to woods to do illegal activity, not enjoy the outdoors, were lounging in the middle of the creek on various rocks or tree branches. They were acting obnoxious and strange as if on blotter acid. We were up above them on the ravine top, and I was trying to figure out how to avoid walking past them once we crossed the river to return to our car. There was something about their appearance and behavior that made me think of kidnapping and torture. Remember the movie, "Last House on the Left?" I said something to my husband, and he acknowledged the same feelings I had, but we kept walking.
Forty minutes later we were on the other side of the river. A middle aged man was running up and down the path yelling for someone. He seemed frantic and stopped some young people on the path and asked if they'd seen his son and described him to them. Then off he ran again shouting out the boy's name. We never came back upon the group of scarey people and I wondered where they had disappeared to as we walked past that spot on the river. My imagination started going wild at that point. My husband commented on how frightening it would be to lose someone in the woods, especially as the sun was going down and the air was getting colder. Still, we walked on in the dimming light.
After our hike, we went into the neighboring little hippie town of Yellow Springs and had dinner at Ye Olde Trail Tavern. Ye Olde Tavern was built in 1847 along the stage coach. I like to sit in the booth next to the old fireplace and imagine people cooking there in the olden days.