Taking It in Stride

I'm hooked, finding it impossible to resist exploring new river trails now that I've started.

Today I intended to walk the entire Buttermilk Trail on the south side of the river for the first time.

Walking toward the pedestrian bridge to Belle Isle, I found myself behind a woman with a map, which is like catnip to me.

Asking if she was a visitor (Albany, NY), I asked where she was headed and that's when things got good.

"Do you know what Volkssport is?" she asked. Sure don't.

She went on to explain about this international group begun in Germany devoted to the walking lifestyle. What a great phrase!

I've been doing my daily walks since 1998 but I'd never thought of myself as having a walking lifestyle, but of course I do.

She explained that she was doing a 10K walk laid out by Volkssport that would take her by the state capital and end at Legend. Apparently there are capital walks in every state that Volkssporters can get credit for.

"I've done the walks in 45 states, including Alaska, but not Hawaii," she explained to my amazement. "But it's taken me 20 years to do it!"

I was still impressed.

Her advice before we parted was to find the local chapter and join since I clearly had a taste for walking.

Today's was off to a terrific start.

Crossing over the bridge to the southside, I saw people sunning down on the rocks below before I turned onto the shaded path and set out.

It was so different than the North bank trail, more open, mostly graveled and with only intermittent glimpses of the river.

What it did have was frequent points of entry to the water and I saw more than a few people scrambling down rocks and wooded paths toward the river, lunches and towels in hand.

Reedy Creek meadow was breathtaking and had the most charming signs, one of which was almost completely hidden in the plants.

These meadows were planted with wildflowers to feed butterflies, hummingbirds and the inner human heart.

Consider mine fed.

Not sure why, but I was surprised to spot a tucked away picnic pavilion up against some rocks. Further on, I saw one labeled "Boulevard picnic area" and coming back along the rocks, I found one where someone had pitched a tent under the shelter next to the picnic tables.

Probably my favorite thing about the Buttermilk trail was how often I came upon places where moving water was diverted alongside the path from some hidden source hidden in the woods.

Hearing the pleasure squeals of kids in the river and on the rocks made for a fine soundtrack to accompany the rushing water.

Of course I managed to get lost on my way back, winding up down on the rocks under the bridge to Belle Isle instead of up where I could actually cross the bridge back.

But I figured it out by retracing steps and soon started up the ramp to the pedestrian bridge only to find stupidity in action.

Four young guys had decided to climb up an old bridge trestle, walk out on the narrow girder with one foot in front of the other and climb down the angled bridge support.

Walking the pedestrian bridge back over provided a front row seat to how high they were, how narrow the girder and how shallow and rocky the river there would be should they fall.

All along the pedestrian bridge, people stopped to watch the potential train wreck of these four guys.

I saw only one of them make it down safely before taking my clenched stomach and heading away.

Young man idiocy aside, it had been a most satisfying 10K. I'd been clued in to Volkssporting, seen some new river views and had my inner heart fed.

In addiction terms, I'd gotten my fix.