Adventure, Awe, and Abundant Life: Our Day at Cuyahoga Valley National Park

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August 14-15, 2025. Finding Joy on the Trails, in the Shadows, and in Christ

What if I told you that a diagnosis, even one as sobering as metastatic (stage 4) breast cancer, doesn’t have to mean the end of adventure? That it might, in fact, be the beginning of a new kind of abundant living? Different, yes, but abundant. I want to share one story of joy, love, and a little mystery from a recent trip with my husband to Cuyahoga Valley National Park—a place where wild nature and the whisper of hope wind along every trail.

The Ledges Trail: Where Wonder Meets Stone and Sky

We started our day with the Ledges Trail, a 2-mile loop famed for its dramatic rock formations, sun-dappled moss, and secret caves. My husband and I laced up our tennis shoes and set off with hearts full of anticipation.

Tip: Come prepared! I would have pulled out my hiking poles and worn my hiking boots if I had realized how many rocks we would scramble over. It’s not a difficult trail, but can be a little tricky for someone with balance and joint issues.

Nevertheless, while I didn’t expect the rocky terrain on the trail, it became a chance to adapt and push my limits. Instead of being discouraged, I embraced the challenge, and we managed to boost our daily steps while discovering new strength in ourselves.

Stepping into the quiet cathedral of pines, it struck me: this is what it means to live—really live—even with cancer as a quiet companion. More importantly, I get to live this life with the best caregiver as my hiking buddy, who stretches out his hand to catch me if I stumble.

The trail meandered through forests that felt ancient and wise, the scent of earth and leaves mingling with laughter and the promise of adventure. We ducked under boughs, hopped across roots, and marveled at the towering cliffs, their sandstone faces streaked with green and gold.

At the overlook, we caught our breath, gazing out over a patchwork of treetops. The world felt big and beautiful, and at that moment, thoughts of cancer or medical appointments slipped away.

Holding hands with the one I love, I was reminded: abundant life isn’t found in the absence of trials, but in the presence of Jesus Christ, guiding and sustaining each day. In every moment, we have the power to create memories, to savor the light filtering through the trees, and to claim joy on this side of life. Let us walk on, hearts open, knowing that each step is a testament to courage, faith, and the unwavering will to live abundantly.

Every step forward is an act of hope, no matter where you are in your cancer journey. With each breath of fresh air and every stride—even when challenged by neuropathy and fatigue—the Holy Spirit prompts, the heart grows stronger, and the soul more resilient. Life is still full of wonder worth fighting for.

Down the Eerie Canal Towpath

Of course, we couldn’t resist the allure of the Erie Canal Towpath. Echoes of history lace this path, where mules once pulled canal boats, the Underground Railroad was actively present, and the shadows seem to hold a thousand secrets. It was the perfect atmosphere for a little playtime.

Eerie Canal, rushing water in front of the Canal Exploration Center.

Canal Stop and Tavern (Currently the Canal Exploration Center)

Hi, I’m Blossom. During the canal days, mules like me walked the towpath, pulling heavy boats behind us. We were strong engines, able to haul 60 tons or more of freight. Mules worked in teams of two or three. Cargo boats had a middle cabin to stable a second team The two teams switched every six hours.

Some people say mules are stubborn, but I think we’re just smart. Horses can work themselves to an early grave. Mules have sense enough to stop when we’re tired. And we refuse to do anything dangerous. Over time, horses will get mouth and harness sores. Not mules. We are also cheaper to feed. Now I’m not saying horses are all bad. They are faster than mules. Early passenger boats used teams of horses when speed was more important than endurance. After the Civil War, canal boats became family businesses. One of the captain’s children was often the muleskinner, leading the team along the towpath.

I got my intelligence from my father. He’s a donkey. I got my athletic ability from my mother. She’s a horse. What is the best trait that you inherited from each parent?
Mule Power: Towing Canal Boats, from the placard at Cuyahoga Valley N.P.

Tim whispered in my ear as the towpath curved between thick stands of trees, their branches creaking in the gentle breeze. The path met the boardwalk into Beaver’s Marsh where wood ducks greeted us. He grinned while squeezing my hand. Even if you don’t get to see what you had hoped for (in this case, beavers), there’s something thrilling about embracing the unknown.

Cancer brings its own shadows—uncertainty, fear, the uninvited “what ifs.” Yet I’ve learned that through faith, even the darkest paths can glow with hope. Jesus walks with us, turning every challenge into an opportunity for courage, laughter, and connection.

Abundance in Every Step

The most beautiful part of our day wasn’t just the scenery, but the sense of freedom and joy. We climbed stairs, walked through a covered bridge, witnessed butterflies and colorful flowers, ate farm fresh corn while swinging on the double swings, swapped silly jokes, and learned that adventure is less about where you go and more about who walks beside you. Whether you have a caring partner on earth or not, Jesus is there each step of the way.

I want to say this, to anyone facing a difficult diagnosis or season: abundant life is possible—yes, even now. Through my journey with metastatic breast cancer, I’ve discovered that life with Jesus is not about scarcity, but overflow. He gives peace that surpasses understanding, and joy that bubbles up in the least-expected places—like a trail at sunset, a beautiful waterfall, or a quiet moment on the towpath with someone you love.

Come, Take the Next Step

If you’re ever near Cuyahoga Valley National Park, I encourage you to lace up your boots, grab a loved one, and walk the Ledges Trail. Let the stones steady you, the trees shelter you, and the adventure—yes, even the eerie ones—remind you that life is still here for the living.

Because abundance isn’t measured by days, but by the love, faith, and wonder we choose. Through Jesus Christ, I am learning to live—truly, joyfully, abundantly—one trail at a time.

We added another stamp to our Passport on this trip, and checked off our 18th National Park.

Pro tip: The America the Beautiful Access Pass is free for anyone who has a disability (terminal cancer is a disability, even if you don’t “feel” disabled). It provides free entry to all National Parks and Historic Sites for the pass holder and family who travel with them. It’s a great way to live life without the added pressure of the financial burden of entrance fees. Check it out!

Just One More Thing

Having terminal cancer is a different experience for everyone, and I do hope this blog is accepted as it is intended. Not everyone can do the things we can do. I get that. Depending on where you are with your diagnosis and whether you are the patient or the caregiver, you will make those determinations. Given the thousands of types and subtypes, cancer treatment is challenging. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. I am fortunate to have cancer treatment that works!

I don’t say this lightly, as not everyone is as fortunate to add years to their life. My mother was in a Hospice House for two weeks at the end of her life. This disease does take people’s lives. Yet even there, in her setting, we enjoyed the beautiful gardens outside her window together. She also enjoyed life with what energy she had as they brought in therapy dogs, listened to people read Scripture, held hands and even encouraged people who came to visit. She taught me how to live life abundantly now as well as when we transition to our eternal Home. That is why I say, as long as I have breath, I intend to live!

Ask God to give you energy. He will provide strength to walk, even if it is just a few steps to your backyard.

À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!

August 13, 2025September 9, 2025

Handfeeding Birds at Kensington Metropark: Cindy’s Solo Bird Nerd Adventure!

Ready for a little feathered magic? 🐦 I’ve been looking forward to staying in the Detroit area since the beginning of this trip, mostly because I follow a photographer who shares videos on Facebook of her “hand of snacks,” feeding the local birds in all seasons of the year. Her bird photography is worthy of accolades. I wish I had half her talent. She shared the name of the park where her skills find these incredible experiences, and I took note. The birds are used to people because they have been handfed for years. I did my research, scheduled a day when we would be close enough to the park, kissed my husband good-bye while he was setting up a Zoom call, and took off, my backpack loaded with a five-pound bag of birdseed (the smallest bag I could find).

It was easy to find the Kensington Metropark Visitor’s Entrance where I paid my $10.00 one-day fee, but one never fully appreciates how big a park is until you get lost inside. We have experienced the enormity of National Parks, which of course are expected, but this park was much larger than I imagined. That park makes a city park look like a thimble in a bathtub! There are three separate entrances, miles of nature trails for hiking and biking, fishing docks and boat access on Kent Lake, two separate parks with swimming beaches, a regulation golf course (which Tim now wishes he would have played), primitive camping, winter and summer sports, and so much more.

It was a bit of a challenge following the map to the Wildwing Trail, but I took the long way around to get a better “feel” for the park. Once I got close, I still had some difficulty finding where the trail actually starts. Of course, that could be my old chemo brain lol, but I ran into at least one couple and another individual who didn’t seem to know where they were. So, maybe it’s not just me.

Pro tip: If you want to unlock the magic of the Wildwing Trail, head to the parking lot near the Nature Center and caper down the stairs like you’re on Mission Impossible to BirdyLand. At the bottom, scan for the trailhead straight ahead—it’s your portal! That’s the easiest way to find it (I hiked the reverse direction). My Australian GPS chortled as he sent me bumping down a dirt road behind the Nature Center. After that mini-adventure, I finally cracked the code and found the actual parking lot. Trust me. Take the easy way in and skip the detour—unless you’re looking for bonus chipmunk sightings!

The name of the Wildwing Trail suits it. There are a ton of birds and a wide variety of species. I prayed they would find me and find me they did! Prayers answered—thank you Lord. My first encounter was with a pair of Sandhill Cranes, approaching me in the parking lot like they knew something I didn’t. In spite of the signs warning us not to feed them, they seem to be very comfortable around people. Little did I know the cranes were abundant here, and they always seemed to seek me out wherever I was on the trail. I have seen many of these birds in Florida, as they migrate there during the winter. But these are different.

The Metropark highlights a bird of the week, and when I looked up their page on the Sandhill Crane, here’s what they offered. “Often referred to by park visitors as a prehistoric bird, the Sandhill Crane is an exciting bird to spot while visiting the Metroparks. With their characteristic red marking on the crown of their head and stilt-like walking they are certainly a majestic bird to encounter. Sandhill Cranes are typically gray or slate colored with some rust colored markings on their underside. The Sandhill Cranes at Kensington Metropark have more rusty coloring than cranes found in other areas due to the high iron content in the water, when they clean their feathers the water stains the feather with a rusty hue. Their slender and sharp bill, growing longer than their head, provides good warning to keep a safe distance from them whenever you may encounter them in the park.”

Seriously, the Wildwing Trail is like the Disneyland of birds, all things red—sandhill cranes, red-winged blackbirds, cardinals, red-bellied woodpeckers—and even a few cheeky chipmunks tried to join the party. Check out this video for all the spontaneous bird landings, laughs, and a few tips for your own bird-feeding adventure. Whether you’re a bona fide bird nerd or just looking for a little joy at my expense, you’re in for a treat.

P.S. Heads up, fellow bird whisperers! While the signs may wag a finger and say “don’t feed the wildlife,” I got the inside scoop from the ranger at the nature center—there’s a right way to do it, so you’re in the clear! Just remember: sprinkle responsibly and don’t leave a birdseed buffet behind for the squirrels to throw a midnight rave.

À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!

July 25, 2025September 9, 2025

Indiana Dunes National Park: Adventures, Oddities, and Sand in Your Shoes

How We Survived Dunes, Storms, and Historic Houses.

One doesn’t think of Indiana as having a huge National Park. At least, we didn’t. But there are 20 miles of Lake Michigan shoreline, along with thousands of acres, that have been designated for this remarkable place. We were merely passing through, but our route guaranteed we could check off another item on our ever-growing bucket list. It’s one of the “newer” National Parks, although it has been a National Lakeshore since 1966, re-designated as a National Park in 2019.

But, before we went trekking in the National Park, we armed ourselves with brochures and local knowledge at the Indiana Welcome Center.

Indiana Dunes National Park is no ordinary stretch of sand—it’s a living, breathing playground where nature, history, and a little bit of chaos collide with rolling dunes, mysterious marshes, and forests bursting with wildlife, all waiting to surprise you with every step. Did we mention there are over 1,100 native plants and 200+ bird species? If you’re an aspiring botanist or just like chasing butterflies like me, this is your wonderland.

Long before there were selfies on the lakeshore, Indigenous peoples camped here, leaving behind stories and treasures that stretch back for years. Today, millions venture into these habitats—tiptoeing through nature’s living museum—where resilient landscapes bounce back from centuries of adventures and misadventures.

We rolled up towing our trusty Airstream, hoping the Visitor Center had answers to the meaning of life (or at least a good parking spot). Bonus: you can boondock there—a fact we learned just as a heat wave and thunderstorm crashed our best-laid plans.

The ranger who directed us to the Passport stamp also suggested we go to Gary, Indiana, but that would’ve meant a 15-mile detour backwards while pulling the Airstream. Climbing 1.5 miles of tough trail with 552 vertical feet to conquer the “three dune challenge” was another un-appealing option in 100 degree temperatures. Instead, we mapped out our own version of “National Park Express,” hitting three classic stops: Beverly Shores, The Great Marsh Trail, and Mt. Baldy.

Beverly Shores: Named after his daughter, the famed developer created a place where people and buildings could truly call home, like the legendary 1933 Chicago World’s Fair houses.

A Century of Progress – The 1933 World’s Fair Homes. This was an unexpected but very interesting and unique find. My architecture and real estate friends may find this fun to read. Lakeshore Drive is where futuristic “modern” homes are on display that were brought here from Chicago after the 1933 World’s Fair. You can’t park on the street, so I was feverishly snapping pictures in hopes of getting one or two good ones. Without even realizing it, I captured all five of the 1933 World’s Fair Homes on display there. If you want to read more about each home, scroll to the bottom of this blog.

These futuristic gems—like the Wieboldt-Rostone House, Florida Tropical House, and the indestructible (sort of) Cypress Log Cabin—were shipped here by barge and are now historic eye candy. Snap your pics fast, as street parking is a rare beast. Want to tour them? Annual tickets go on sale in August and vanish in an hour, $35 a pop. Feeling architectural? You can stay overnight in the restored Cypress Cabin and live out your lumberjack dreams.

Beverly Shores Depot and the Great Marsh Trail: We parked the Airstream next to the Beverly Shores Depot Museum & Art Gallery, which is part museum, part train station, and part hidden treasure. According to Wikipedia, “On July 19, 1989, the Beverly Shores station was added to the National Register of Historic Places.” The museum, a non-profit, keeps local history alive—and lets you park with a smile. It’s hard to find parking for a truck and a trailer in this area, so we were relieved when they let us park in their lot so we could go for a walk on the Great Marsh Trail.

Train at Beverly Shores Depot. You have to flag it down if you want it to stop.

Tim got wrangled into a work call, so I had free rein to hunt dragonflies, play hide-and-seek with turtles, and watch deer fawns put on an impromptu marsh ballet.

Mt. Baldy: This monster dune moves inland about FOUR FEET every year, devouring everything in its sandy path—including memories of an old parking lot. Today, if you want to climb it, you’ll need a park ranger as your personal sand sherpa. We nabbed one of two RV spots (a miracle!), then braved the up-and-down trail to the “ocean”—aka Lake Michigan. Storm clouds rolled in, so our beach day turned into a dash for cover, feet sandy, spirits high, and the crowd a vibrant mosaic of humanity, all enjoying the rain’s dramatic performance.

Storms around Lake Michigan don’t mess around, but they also don’t linger. We waited out the rain under a shelter, swapping stories, watching water blow sideways, and marveling at the wild mix of fellow travelers—bright saris, sandy pizza boxes, and coolers galore.

After a sand-filled hike, we surrendered to hotel comfort and an Olive Garden feast, feeling only a tiny pang of guilt for ditching our Harvest Host. First time canceling last-minute, but hey, sometimes Mother Nature hands you a raincheck with extra breadsticks. The shower felt like salvation and dinner was better than expected (free delivery + bonus entrée = score!). Sometimes, adventure means knowing when to jump into comfort, and when to let the dunes take care of the rest.

Here’s a video of our experiences in Indiana Dunes National Park. Tim is on a call, so he didn’t feel like smiling 😂😂.

And that’s how you do the Indiana Dunes: with laughter, sand between your toes, and a healthy dose of flexibility. Ready for your own wild ride?

À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!

“I am the Lord, who heals you.”
Exodus 15:26