The Deal

Planet Earth is currently hurling itself towards the sun in a bad action movie apocalypse scenario. It’s the only explanation for the unbelievably beautiful 60+ degree weather we’ve been experiencing. I think the boys’ generation will survive, but we are actively sterilizing them with video game exposure to spare future generations the horror of burning up in the sun.

In the meantime, we had a ton of outside fun last weekend.

On Sunday, Diana found a forest preserve way out in the northwest suburbs that boasted lakes and fauna and miles of well-groomed hiking trails. It took us twice as long to convince (threaten/cajole) the boys to go than it did to actually drive to the preserve.

The place was awesome and reminded us that there is more to nature than the skunk that currently lives under our neighbor’s porch. After a few trips around the lake and a visit to a staggeringly horrifying men’s room, we decided to take a walk on one of the aforementioned trails.

We chose the red trail loop because it was red. I hesitated at the mileage (1.5 miles) because our children are not known for their endurance. But I figured we could always turn around if the complaints got too loud.

It was simply lovely. We saw huge trees, horse tracks and neat little wooden bridges. Friendly dogs allowed me to manhandle them. The only disappointment was the lack of giant piles of horse poop, which we were hoping to see after the tracks.

After an hour or so marching, Luca decided his legs didn’t work. He began to complain about his body aching and he was hungry. I was surprised we hadn’t finished the loop by then. We were slow, but we weren’t that slow.

I checked the next trail marker. Instead of bright red, the sign was an ominous black. It read “DT.” What was DT? Death trail? Doom Town? Dumb Tramp?

A middle age couple approached wearing matching vests. I feared them, so I shuffled to the side and let them pass. Diana, on the other hand, is a functioning human so she asked them for help.

Vest Man consulted his phone. He pointed us out on his map. Then he explained we were on the Des Plains River Trail. A beautiful path that will take ya all the way to Wisconsin. Then he scrolled his phone to where the red trail meets the DT. It was a long, long scroll.

We had a massive walk ahead of us. Luca knew he had us dead to rights. He informed us that our punishment for getting him lost was we had to take them to both McDonalds and Taco Bell for lunch. Feeling the gaze of the Vests, I said, “Oh no. That food is terrible. We would never…”

Once the Vests were out of earshot, Diana and I agreed to Luca’s demands and made our way slowly back to base. Diana carried Luca on her back. I chastised the dogs for tricking me into getting off trail.

My Taco Supreme Big Mac combo was delicious.