“In-Town Tourist”: Highbanks Metro Park
I’m headed to run through my favorite park in a few minutes. Now, I can be slightly fickle on “favorites”; I have three “favorite” children, for instance. And my “favorite” trip is usually the one I’m dreaming of, packing for or traveling through.
But I really like Highbanks Metro Park …
The park lacked even bridges when my sisters and I first visited as children, but hopping (and occasionally missing) rocks at the water crossings just added to the adventure. Today, the practical wooden stream spans have served as launch points for innumerable “leaf races” with my kids. It’s “one, two, three, drop!” and then a dash to the other side of the bridge to await a winner.
I run up and down the ravines of Highbanks a lot. Any season; any weather. “Too much” sometimes, as my occasional injuries will attest… But I believe that running (and weight work) allows me to give the world the best (de-stressed) version of myself. Kind of a public service thing, if you think about it… If I get bored there are eleven miles of path to choose from, plus the winding roadway, and one can always run trails backwards for a change in perspective. I’ve trained for races, sorted through heart-aches, and composed “in my head” as I’ve covered those meandering paths. No moment is wasted there.
The serene ever-changing beauty of the rolling woods calms and inspires; the monkey bars at the playgrounds double as my pull up/chin up bars. The kids and I have played football, gathered leaves for school projects, climbed the bending sycamores, and waded into the Olentangy River to “islands” rimmed with good flat skipping stones.
In the summers, the park gets terribly crowded with “tourists”. A sunny July weekend will jam the picnic areas and make parking a significant challenge. But that’s as it should be… I always hope that newcomers will discover the splendors beyond the playgrounds.
Highbanks retains much of the wild glory enjoyed by the Adena Indians who loved it first and buried some of their own in ancient mounds there. It’s easy to imagine bygone neighbors wandering the slate ravines and wooded hills. Sometimes I get caught up in the beautiful simplicity of such a life and imagine running off of the trail, down one of the more gentle slopes and on up to a quiet bluff. And then I consider the stark realities of a world without hot showers and toothbrushes and am simply grateful for unpaved trails that let me dream of such flight…
On the less temperate, uncrowded winter days, I recognize 
most of the faces there and know the names and “stories” of a few. We’re the die-hards, I guess: an elderly retired couple, a couple of widowers, and a devoted daily walker somewhere in his thirties. I rarely see the other runners, and on some days see no one at all.
I have a couple of favorite wintertime memories that I’ll share in a couple of days. A sweet hand-in-hand run through the falling snow with my daughter on her tenth birthday… And then there’s the memory that delights my kids, even though they weren’t there for the actual event…
Serene.
Looks divine…;)
Beautiful pictures, thanks so much for posting the pictures, they mean a lot !!!
Ali R + SARAL,
It’s lovely in every season. I meant to post some springtime photos too! Next time…
Hi mee mOe,
Thanks! I love that photo of Matt falling into the water and then the follow-up of him waving me off. He was four or five at the time and SO into hopping across the rocks (still is, come to think of it!).