Eight of us, all current or past members of the Johnny Appleseed square dance club of Mansfield, enjoyed our continuing hiking odyssey--this time along the Little Miami River just south of Springfield, OH.  That's Rosa Hatfield in the orange coat; author of the quip in the first paragraph of the story.  The massive rock wall in the photo below was a common container for the river valley of our hike. 

At the headwaters of the Little Miami River
IN THE CLIFTON GORGE--

Rosa Hatfield had one of the best lines of the weekend when some young hikers passed our group on the trail at Clifton Gorge and noticed all eight of us were carrying hiking sticks.  Rosa quipped, "Folks our age not hiking are usually carrying canes."

The impertinent hikers didn't have a clue.

We launched ourselves from near the Clifton Mill and headed downstream along the Little Miami River where it has chewed itself deeply into the earth's rocky skin since geologic time began to take note of such things.

The river lurched and roared as it cascaded through its often narrow sluice.  It was engorged by recent heavy rains as it hustled down a drop of nearly 130 feet while racing into the developed end of the state park to the west near Yellow Springs.

The stunning geology of the ever-growing river's course and its confining valley of stone massifs often were obscured by the towering trees and lush vegetation.  The area was named a National Scenic River in 1973.

It was sobering to imagine what it was known as by Native Americans.

It's rapids boiled in white froth as the energetic river battled the rock formations for space--a visual clue of the tug of war between an irresistible force and an immovable object.

The upper section of our hiking trail was headed toward another known as the Pittsburgh-Cincinnati Stage Coach Trail.  I don't know where those coaches roamed but it certainly was not on the tortured path adjacent to sites we were passing known as The Narrows, Steamboat Rock or the Blue Hole.

A measured 1.3 miles from the trailhead the river makes a sharp bend and is crossed by a footbridge where we encountered an enthusiastic park naturalist who was pleased with our appreciation of what we had just seen.

As we were at our turning point for that day's hike she confirmed doing the stage coach trail upstream from lower in the park would connect this day's hike from the opposite end and treat us to the best the park had to offer wanderers like us.

Later on our hike the following day, another one measured at 1.3 miles to the turnaround, we confirmed her assessment.  This trek began from a parking area within the park proper and we were highly amused when our first trail marker was an undergarment hanging high on the branch of an old Sycamore tree.

There was considerable humorous speculation about the source of that landmark.

While this section of the hike treated us to some more challenging footwork the river was largely more placid as it continued its journey toward joining the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers on its course to freedom in the Gulf of Mexico.

The group:  Front, L to R; Sue Brooks, Rosa Hatfield, Nancy Meinzer.  Back:  Don Karger, Dick Hatfield, Roberta Karger and Mark Meinzer.  In the small photo, left above, Nancy is enjoying a view common along the upper level of the first day's hike where water boils through the narrow rock confines--often far below the trail level.

(Remember, clicking your mouse on the photos should treat you to a larger view.)