A Stroll Through South Chagrin Reservation and My Childhood
- Andy Solganik
- May 29, 2020
- 5 min read

After sitting inside my dark household all day, I decided it would be in my best interest to go for a walk. I grabbed my headphones and left the house. The humid air began to establish a layer of sweat over my skin. It felt amazing! Finally, I had escaped the confines of my home! I decided to do something a bit unusual, I took a right as I exited my neighborhood rather than the typical left. I wanted to visit Lewis Elementary School, which I had attended for three years (kindergarten through second grade). I had not visited in over two years.
My memories of Lewis are mixed. I vividly recall my classrooms at each grade level. I also remembered my life changing second grade teacher who first discovered that I had ADHD and sought to make my learning experience as effective as possible. He set me up to be in the position that I am in today. But what I reminisce the most about Lewis is recess. These were the days where kids still craved to go outside. Regardless of the weather, all of the kids were eager to rush outside and escape their classrooms. Lewis had a spectacular playground area, complete with a blacktop, swing sets, four playgrounds, and woods filled with hiking trails. There was always some sort of game we would play: crossing the slippery bridge, tag, sharks and minnows, etc… Oh the joys of childhood! Every day the school offered some sort of hike through the woods. As an outdoors admirer, even at a young age, I often chose this option. Not only did we enjoy the company of the scenery around us, but it was also an informal science class. From these hikes, I learned different types of plants, birds, and insects. I clearly remember a large group of people circling around a rock. The recess aid flipped over the rock and revealed a centipede. Everyone was ecstatic! “That is so cool!” we all thought. These were the days where birthday parties were exciting if they had acts like Jungle Terry, who brought exotic animals and showed them off in people’s basements. Things were simpler back then… Everyone just had an instinctive love for the outdoors and nature.
Soon after my turn towards Lewis, I arrived at the entrance to the South Chagrin Reservation. I then remembered my dad suggesting to me that I should hike the Bridle Trail. I decided that this hike would be a better usage of my time than reminiscing over old memories.
The trail was gorgeous! I had been to South Chagrin Reservation so many times over the course of my lifetime, but I had never seen this part of it. The trail descends into the valley and is encapsulated by the wilderness (even though it runs parallel and in close proximity to the street). A creek weaves around the trail and occasionally crosses it, providing some fun creek crossings. There was nobody else on the trail. It felt remote, which was shocking considering I was only a 15min walk from my house. I felt free and in my element.
I continued down the trail until I came across an intersection. I took a left. I did not care where I ended up; I just wanted to savor the moment. I went up a steep accent, hiked along the edge of a valley, down the side of Miles road, and before I knew it, I was at Look About Lodge. The lodge is another park along South Chagrin Reservation. I always see signs for it on Miles, but it never garners my attention. It was not the place I intended stumble upon on my hike; I thought I was substantially farther downhill.
I only have a few distinct memories of Look About Lodge. At Lewis, the school decided to take the entire second grade to Look About Lodge once each season to learn about nature. I remember the park covered in leaves in the fall, buttsleding down a hill in the winter, and looking at flowers in the spring. On these trips, I saw my first salamander and flying squirrels. I remember being extremely in my element while other kids struggled or felt uncomfortable. I had the greatest time during every trip. I loved my experience so much that, when I was in second grade, I urged my dad to take me back there with our dog, Henri.

Now the circumstances were a bit different. I did not feel a connection. Second grade Andy had not seen the things that I have nine years later. A mere salamander was not going to awe me anymore. What could be special about this park? I just wanted to keep pushing forward on my hike. But then I heard the sound of running water to right, and decided to bail off trail. After a minute of hiking, I stumbled across one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen. I plopped a seat on a log and admired the view. To my left was a creek winding through a ravine with rock faces on either side, and to my right was a waterfall with sun beams casting on the rocks behind it. There was mist everywhere from the heat and humidity. The water of the creek was crystal clear. I saw a school of tiny fish swim through it. I know realized what had struck me about this place nine years earlier. I meditated on this thought for a bit. Without Lewis or those field trips, I do not know where my life would have taken me; I certainly would not have the same love for the outdoors. I think coming back nine years later unintentionally and becoming awestruck by the park’s beauty would have appeased my younger self. I have come a long way from the kid who researched and wrote a few sentences about the Red Bellied Woodpecker in the school’s computer lab for class.

I began my hike back home. Because of the layout of the Bridle Trail, I had to take the main emerald path along the road for about a half of a mile. In the center of South Chagrin Reservation is a three-way intersection. One direction leads to an outlet nearby my street, another leads to Chagrin River Road, and the final leads to the Squaw Rock parking lot. I have gone to Squaw Rock my entire life, probably since the age of two. It has a special meaning in our family. It was my dad’s favorite park growing up, it was where my mom and dad had their first kiss, and it had been a key part of my upbringing. Whether we go there to walk the dogs, bike through it, or raft down its waterfalls in inner tubes, it always reassures my love for nature. Whenever I am having a difficult time in the woods, I have always think back to Squaw Rock: from my first canoe day trip adventure in Mohican to the 24 hour solo I did last week. If I am struggling, I tell myself “it’s just like you’re at Squaw Rock, and you love it there!” The Reservation has been there at every point of my life, guiding me through my love of the outdoors.
As I walk along the path, I recall the same view I had seen perhaps 15 years ago, inside of the small carriage that my dad used to tow me in on his bicycle. Ever since I was a small baby, my parents have constructed an environment for me to love the outdoors: to go on bike rides with my dad, to be the outdoorsy kid in my second grade class, to be an OL leader, and now to bike through all of the Metroparks this coming Saturday in one extremely long day. Baby Andy in his tiny bicycle carriage could never comprehend how his scenic backseat bike rides behind his dad were going to shape him.

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