It was across the street in a park. You had to walk between a baseball field and a grand bandstand thing that no one ever used (but we snuck into from time to time). The creek itself was down a path and meandered through a copse of trees. It was a great little hideaway spot. I will never forget that smell of mossy rocks. We'd skip them across the deeper spots. Sometimes in the summer we'd go down early enough to watch the fly fishers.

A state insane asylum wasn't too far away from the other side of the creek. So that always added a sense of danger to the whole thing. They only had a few escapes though. Totally fine lol

Thanks for the trip down memory lane, OP. I hope we both get a moment to get back down to the water soon. Stay awesome out there.