I spent my childhood following my Dad on walks that were always twice as long as he said. It was just over the brow of this hill till we cleared that brow and we saw another ahead even higher. Walks were adventures. You never entirely knew where going and on one famous occasion we stayed out so long dark fell leaving us stranded on the side of a mountain in the Lake District (in the North of the UK) with the wind blowing along a steep ridge, where many walkers had actually fallen to their deaths. Another occasion, also in the lakes, night fell leaving us completely lost in the depth of a wood trying to navigate out with a car key torch.
I thought that those days were gone. But this morning my dad got that same look in his eyes. Where as I was thinking of walking the dog just past the post box he wanted to get in the car and go on a new path.
So we did. We drove to the park off Yaupon Drive in the Dominion Great Hills. We have walked there before following the track of the pylons down broad most level paths. But today my Dad was firmly set on going further in than before. Down paths were in my opinion too steep, too rocky, too narrow and too criss-crossed by branches.
He was so determined to go further in that I gave up and I let him lead. Of course we got lost. But we also found our way out. Me with sweaty palms and a lump in my throat still releasing the anxiety that he would fall and I would have to phone in rescue and my Dad grinning all over his face at another walking adventure successfully completed.