Looks as though we're about to get shut out of the ravine again, at least in the short term. When the construction of the new bridges took place late last fall into early winter all the heavy equipment used in there had churned up the trails into deep muck. It's either muck there now or treading on large sharp chunks of granite, nowhere near resembling the size of stone (gravel) usually meant for trails, whose purpose had been to give traction to the tracked machines churning through the muck, up and down hills. What was left when the work crews finally bid the ravine adieu once the bridges were up, was a massive mess.

As soon as serious snowfall began covering the trails, however, they became more usable, and remained so throughout the winter months and on into early spring. Although there's ample snow and ice left in the ravine, there are areas where the sun has no problem melting snow, even with our cooler-than-normal spring, leaving bare spots of muck too deep and nasty for us to want to continue trying to skirt them. Many of the trails have become slick with ice, no problem for us with our cleats, but difficult for trail walkers without them.

So, we decided to return to our alternate choice. At least we have an alternate. And it's more than passable. There, where no construction vehicles have entered because there was no need for them to, we've ventured once again. It almost seemed as though Jack and Jill in their six-month-wisdom recognized that we were in a different place. They seemed mesmerized by the different scents to be found everywhere. And Jack, miraculously, was so busy sniffing about it seems he forgot, at least for that walk, to pick up all the choice bits of detritus that litters the forest floor, chewing away to his heart's delight, and that was a relief for me, allowing me to relax my vigil, and the constant tugs and no's became unnecessary. A delightful walk, altogether, renewing our acquaintance with that alternate trail system.

Jack and Jill were temporarily mystified when we had to cross the main artery that separates the ravine, unaccustomed to loud noises of traffic and the very different atmosphere. On our way back we came across another person we've latterly become acquainted with, and his German Pointer. Who was less than enthusiastic about once again greeting our ecstatic little powerhouses, prepared to leap with pleasure all over the dog that stands like Goliath, towering over them.