We were hapless and pathless today. That’s because we were in Lake Livengston State Park. But from now on, I am referring to it as Lake Everywhere State Park. Why? Read on.

It was morning. We felt like we wanted to go on a trail in the park. So we rode on until we saw the widest trail in the park (left). I was with Rocky and my dad, so we decided this was suitable until we found a better trail that branched off of this main trail.

The widest trail in Lake Livengston State Park.

Well, we were certainly right on about finding a trail that branched off. I went on three of these small trails that I don’t even consider trails, except for one of them, and I only considered it to be a trail because of a bridge.

The only trail I considered a trail because it had a bridge

But soon my dad remembered there was a trail at the park headquarters. So we biked until it hit a road and went around to the headquarters. When we got there, sure enough, we found a trail.

So Rocky, my dad, and I went on the trail. There were a lot of signs that talked about trees and plants on the ground. There was even one about a root! Soon, I gave up looking at them.

Very soon, we noticed that we were going in a circle. We verified it when we came back to the road.

That was when we remembered that we had made a right turn on a fork because the other one was muddy.

Looking at the map, that trail was 0.5 miles and it lead to the frog pond. We decided to take it, going around the muddy part.

The trail we decided to go on

But it wasn’t just that tiny little bit, we soon realized. It was muddy like crazy. We turned off the path and went to the right of it, following the trail.

There was one problem with that plan. We soon lost sight of the trail and seemed like we were just in the middle of nowhere.

Across branches, poison ivy, twigs, logs, and land we went, trying to go leftward the whole time (to make it back to the trail).

We finally saw the trail. I humped over a bunch of poison ivy to take a look of the trail. It was better for about two yards, and the water continued like a lake above.

We pushed on still.

Every five minutes, my dad would call out, “Boardwalk!” We would push our bikes as fast as we could to find out it was a false alarm.

Naturally, after five times, my dad called, “Boardwalk!”

We ignored him.

That is, until we saw the boardwalk.

And a bigger group of people we had met last night were there! They looked at us in amazement. I guess it must have been something to look at, because I looked at it myself.

My bike was covered from head to toe with mud and twigs. But because it was a Columbia bike (which my dad considers good), my bike was perfectly usable. On the other hand, Rocky’s bike wasn’t too good.

I had already repaired his bike once. Thankfully, I didn’t need to repair it again.

We rode on the boardwalk the rest of the way until I saw the sign that said that bikes were not allowed on the boardwalk. I was very embarrased. We biked away as fast as possible back to the camping site.

But now that I think about it, I feel like I want to go on it again.

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Here are the rest of the pictures I took: