Lake Wateree- In Pursuit of a Granola Bar

Landsford Canal, Andrew Jackson and now to round it all out was Lake Wateree.  Geographically, our order was stupid.  Lake Wateree was closest to us and Andrew Jackson furthest away.  But Landsford closed first, then Andrew Jackson and finally Lake Wateree, so our path was determined.

It had been a good day overall exploring the history of the Irish canal workers and then the backcountry fronteirsmen of the Revolutionary War.  It was somehow odd to leave the echoes of history and travel to a park that emphasized fishing and camping.  I tried to excite the children to the final leg of our day's park adventure y telling them of a flier I had found as I had researched Lake Wateree.  The rangers at Wateree wanted to encourage more physical activity and exploration from their guests and so had issued a challenge.  The guests should hike out to the far reaches of the park's nature trail and take a picture.  The guests would then take their picture to the tackle shop/gift store/office and recieve a granola bar.

That incentive was enough.  Wetfoot's eyes lit up.  She had been given a challenge and hope of a prize.  Please know that our children have had many granola bars and other snacks throughout their lifetime.  Wetfoot was fond of granola but not generally overwhelmed by their goodness.  I do not claim to understand everything there is to know about a young teenage girl but something changed about her when she heard about the promise of a nature snack.  The girl lit up and transformed into a woman on a mission.  Wetfoot turned tyrant driving her siblings down the trail faster and faster.  The poor things had already hike the trails at Landsford Canal and Andrew Jackson but Wetfoot did not care.  She clapped and prodded. "Come on," she commanded.

I watched her attempt to motivate her charges as the sun was setting.  I thought it best to tell her, "Sweetie, we may not make it back before the shop closes."

"Oh yes we will," was her spirtited response as the sun sank into a glamorous finale across the lake.  The sky was alight with bright orange and red clouds which calmed into sedate shades of blue and purple.  I could see stars beginning to appear.

Little Legs was panting.

I was not quite confident in the success of Wetfoot's quest.

Still, my teenage daughter kept her eyes glued to the clock of her ipod.  It showed we had ten minutes until the rangers would desert the store.  "We can make it," Wetfoot whispered intently.

We didn't make it.  We were about ten minutes late.

Wetfoot approached the darkened window in disbelief and sat down on a bench just beside the locked entrance.  Her face bled disappointment.  I saw my child sitting on the hard utilitarian bench unconciously shaking her head in sadness as she realized the clock's victory over her ill fateed attempt to nab a free granola.

I couldn't help it.  I giggled.  I had to.  I laughed out loud.  My daughter glared.  But still I laughed and now pointed to the sign just above her head in the tackle shop window.  "Happy Camper".  Yes, we got a picture.