Seventh, 11th and 100th*
Krause Springs is paradise in a parched land.
We finally made it with both grandkids (Chloe had her stitches out) after a stress-inducing morning of preparations and errands. The kids had never been there, and it had been a while for us. I always forget how beautiful and magical the place is. We got there about 1:30 and stayed till 7, having lunch of pbj sandwiches and dinner of fried chicken. As we were leaving the kids asked if we’d take them again.
There is a spring-fed swimming pool, the water of which flows through a sluice, over the rocks and into a large natural pool about 50 feet below. The cold spring water felt wonderful on a nearly 3-digit (F) day.
Bryan got in quite a few jumps from a rope swing. Chloe was unhappy that she wasn’t allowed to try it, but not knowing her strength I pointed out that if she couldn’t hold on till she was over the water she would fall onto the rocks. The kids and Gary also explored downstream, where they saw turtles and collected mollusk shells. They also found a small spring with crawfish. We even swam into the cave behind the falls, although it’s a little creepy.
I had left my phone in the car and forgot a camera, so when I finally got my phone and went down to check on Gary and the kids, I turned and looked toward the falls, and there they all were, with a rainbow. Talk about lucky shots!
The kids claimed two rock “islands.” Chloe’s was the Isle of Skye (for her middle name), so I suggested “Kelley’s Island,” for Bryan (also a real island in Ohio). Bryan had hotels and houses on his island, and an Amazon store that carried everything, and free. (Jeff Bezos, eat your heart out.) The Amazon store also extended five miles under the sea. This is essential Bryan: a private island with unlimited reading material. They used kick-boards as boats to ferry back to the mainland to pick up friends and family.
It was really hard to tear them away for dinner, but I promised them a swim in the pool afterwards. As they were starting up the steep, narrow steps from the lower pool, I reminded Bryan to be careful and take it slow. A man said, “But it’s much more fun to run!” I replied, “Especially when you’re 10.”
They had their after-dinner swim, as promised:
We took two very tired, very waterlogged kids home to their parents, and came home and had margaritas.
*Chloe’s seventh summer, Bryan’s 11th, and my 100th blog post! (Poem of the Fortnight, in case you’ve missed it, is on summer vacation with my Muse, and both are expected to return in the fall, after school starts.)