The first year of college before my group of high school friends fragmented and shattered completely we discovered the Kishwaukee Gorge forest preserve in my hometown of Rockford. At the time it was a stunning 19-year-old-stoner's playground. A real treasure. I went back for a long hike and a bit of nostalgia today.
On our first trip we discovered a small cave at the top of a steep hill. We would sit in the cave jaw and then run pell-mell down to the river- dirt surfing and swinging from sapling to sapling.
The gorge is relatively unchanged but very overgrown. I didn't see a single person in the two hours I was there which I thought odd for a Saturday afternoon.
On our repeated visits we discovered this tree which grew out over the river. We'd walk out on it testing our precarious balance and then recline in the branches soaking up the sun. Either because of storm, rot, or park maintience our tree bridge was chopped almost down to nothing. I sat on it for a while but it lacked the lazy daring it once held.
It's a beautiful place, one of my favorite places in the world. It holds some of my happiest memories.
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