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After our first year in Middletown, a neighbour told us of a wild-life reserve north of town on route 175. He said the doggies would probably enjoy it. This was good news; for, as I had mentioned to Dwight, one of the paradoxical problems with "the country" is that there are so few spaces that are open.
So on some warm Spring day, we drove over to reserve. There wasn't much there, except a gravel parking lot and lots of oaks, grass and mini-creeklets. Perfect!
There weren't even any trails to speak of, except one that intersected the reserve east west and another that more or less circled the whole park. People dogs and horses and cut their own informal trails here and there, which looped around through the oaks. Over time, I gave the trails name, as no doubt the doggies identitified them by nose-sakes.
