As a former journalist, the election season has always been an exciting time for me, but when I took up my mantle with Five Rivers MetroParks, I would be on the other side of the proverbial punch card. No longer simply an observer, I kicked off my new career with a tall order—volunteer with the MetroParks levy campaign. Through those months of phone calls and canvassing, I discovered that many Dayton area residents knew of the MetroParks closest to their home, but weren’t aware of the total number of parks, or the number of acres we protect. I thought it would be appropriate today to give you a little overview of each of our facilities.

Aullwood Garden MetroPark: This 31-acre garden situated on the edge of Englewood MetroPark is the former home of John and Marie Aull, whose world-wide travels inspired this luxurious shade garden. Lenten roses and other choice shade plants are featured at this estate garden.
Carriage Hill MetroPark: Take a trip back in time at this preserved 1880s historical farm.
Photo by RA Makley: Check out the Riding Center at Carriage Hill MetroPark. Weekend trail and pony rides start again in April!

Children love to learn about agricultural and professional skills popular during the turn of the 20^thCentury. This 900-acre park, located in Huber Heights, also offers hiking and equestrian trails as well as fishing ponds, a 14-acre lake, and the nearby Carriage Hill Riding Center, where trail and pony rides are offered April through October.
Cox Arboretum MetroPark: Mature forests populate this 189-acre park south of Dayton near Moraine and Miamisburg, along with diverse gardens, such as the Edible Landscape Garden and the Clematis Arbor. The Butterfly House is a favorite summertime destination to view native butterflies and moths in various stages of metamorphosis.
Deeds Point MetroPark: The landscape beds this park perched downtown along the Great Miami River offer visitors a floral garden paradise in an urban setting.
Eastwood MetroPark: Paddle in the 185-acre lake, ride the Mad River bikeway, fish in the lagoon or river or hike 3 miles of wooded and open meadow trails in this park just off State Route 4 near Riverside. Both the Buckeye and North Country National Scenic trails run through this park. This is the site of the annual GearFest recreation celebration, which takes place in the fall.
Englewood MetroPark: The potential for recreation is endless in this 1,900-acre park. Choose from 12 miles
Enjoy 18 holes of disc golf at Englewood MetroPark.

of scenic trails, 3.5 miles of bridle trails, paddling on the Stillwater River, and great spots for fishing. This park also boasts a unique feature—an 18-hole disc golf course. Disc golf is an easy-to-learn activity that involves throwing flying discs into a “basket” situated a distance from the starting point.
Germantown MetroPark: The size, quality and age of the woodlands make this 1,665-acre park the most diverse of the natural areas. The park also contains large open grasslands, cedar glades and dry hillside prairies. One popular weekend attraction (particularly for birders) is the Nature Center with its Window on Wildlife.
Hills & Dales MetroPark: This Olmsted-designed park has 63 acres of native plants and landscaped areas situated in the crux of Kettering, Oakwood and Dayton. Recently renovated to restore its former beauty, this park boasts 2 miles of wooded trails, including the Adirondack boardwalk that gives visitors a tour of the wetlands.
Huffman MetroPark: One of the most prominent amenities of this park located just east of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base is MoMBA, the MetroParks Mountain Biking Area. About 8 miles of track snake their way through this wooded sub-facility. MoMBA’s trails are constructed to help the novice gain mountain biking confidence and challenge the most experienced rider.
Island MetroPark: Towering sycamore and cottonwood trees lend shade to those seeking respite from the bustling city in this 33-acre park, located just north of downtown Dayton. Landscaped beds, a seasonal water playground, picnic shelters and the historic bandshell are other hallmarks of this park.
PNC 2^nd Street Market: Pick up farm-fresh produce, meats,cheeses, eggs and dry goods as well as flowers, wine, jewelry, soaps,gifts and more. The Market highlights the growers, producers and
Find farm-fresh produce at the PNC 2nd Street Market

artisans we have right here in the greater Dayton region. Regular hours are 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Thursday and Fridays, and 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturdays.
Possum Creek MetroPark: Head southwest of downtown Dayton to find this 556-acre park and enjoy its many amenities, such as Polly Possum’s Math Farm, fishing ponds, historic Argonne Forest, 100-plus-acre planted prairies and the sustainable farm.
RiverScape MetroPark: Downtown Dayton’s favorite hangout has become an indelible icon with its fountains and renovated amenities. The covered pavilion provides shade for summer concert and festival-goers in the summer and doubles as an outdoor skating rink in the winter. Cyclists who commute or ride for recreation have welcomed the new bike hub. Children can splash around in the interactive fountains or get a brief history on Dayton’s innovative past while traveling the Dayton Inventor’s River Walk.
Sugarcreek MetroPark: This diverse area—with all stages of succession, mature forests, a trio of 500-year old white oaks, varied topography, a planted prairie, meadows and scenic Sugar Creek—is located near the Bellbrook area. Its trails are popular among trail runners, dog walkers and equestrians.
Sunrise MetroPark: The walkways of this tiny urban oasis, conveniently located just north of downtown Dayton, are filled with stunning views of the city’s skyline. Prairie plantings and wildflowers draw in wildlife from the adjacent river habitat, and make the park a serene spot for relaxing. Catch a glimpse of the large and graceful blue herons that frequent the area.
Taylorsville MetroPark: There’s no shortage of history or nature to encounter along this 1,300-acre park’s 13 miles of trails, nestled just outside Vandalia. Visitors also can link up with the Buckeye and North Country
Have you visited Sunderland Falls at Taylorsville MetroPark?

trails. The Buckeye Trail completely encircles Ohio and is over 1,200 miles long. The North Country Trailextends into seven states and will be the longest continuous hiking trail in the United States when completed.

Twin Creek MetroPark: This 1,000-acre park situated in the southwest corner of Montgomery County is home to 20 miles of hiking trails, 7 miles of equestrian trails, and ample access to the Twin Creek, one of Ohio’s cleanest waterways. Hike the Twin Valley Trail, a 22-mile backpacking trail connecting Twin Creek and Germantown MetroParks.

Wegerzyn Gardens MetroPark: With about eight different formal garden areas, this north Dayton park is a haven for plant lovers, featuring something in bloom nearly year-round. The Children’s Discovery Garden here offers fun and learning through the joy of gardening. Visitors can also enjoy paved bikeways and the Marie Aull Nature Trail.
Wesleyan MetroPark: Home to Adventure Central, a program aimed at getting urban youth engaged in the outdoors, this 55-acre park offers its west Dayton neighbors a place to enjoy nature, whether hiking on 1.5 miles of trail, cycling along the Wolf Creek Bikeway, playing on the playground equipment or fishing in Wolf Creek.

Now that you know a little bit about each park and its respective subfacilities, plan your next adventure today.

Possum Creek MetroPark’s Hidden History

This man is exerting far too much energy for this to be considered a "relaxing" activity.

As Spring hurtles uncontrollably into Summer, my mind reaches out to find the activities I can do outside. My own definition of “outdoor activities,” however, has little or nothing to do with being active at all. More to the point, I like to try and find places where it can appear that I’m doing some sort of activity, while remaining completely inactive. Fishing usually fits this bill. I will confess here that I have rarely ever caught a fish (which would go against my goal of being inert) and sometimes, to insure that some fish with either a death wish or a very slow mental acuity won’t inadvertently leap onto my baited hook, I usually fish with no bait. This serves a twofold purpose: one, a fish will generally avoid my barren hook in search of a more agreeable dinner, thereby allowing me to remain in a seated position and two, it makes it so that I don’t have to put my hands near any icky worms which, on especially humid days, feel much like a semi-solidified string of undulating snot. I guess that while I’m confessing things here, I might as well add that, even if I had the misfortune of catching a fish, I would throw it back as I can’t stand to eat fish and I can assure you that a mounted fish on my wall would definitely clash with my rather eclectic form of interior design. Moving on…

The reason that I bring this up is that it reminds me of one of the places that I love not to fish: Possum Creek MetroPark. The first time I was there was sometime in the late eighties/early nineties… you will forgive me as time has been somewhat of an elusive creature my entire life, so remembering dates isn’t one of my strong points. I do remember that a group of us were supposed to be driving to Indianapolis for Pink Floyd’s Division Bell Tour, if that gives anyone a frame of reference. One of the group thought that the park would be a bitchin’ place to party before the concert. It wasn’t. Some of the group got lost and we damn near missed the concert. Fast forward to around ten years ago. I was scouting all the parks surrounding Dayton, exploring all of the wonderful points and playgrounds with my two youngest sons. We meandered over to Possum Creek one day and found that it not only had several fishable lakes, it also boasted some really interesting hiking trails, a community garden and a farm area with many types of animals on display.

On one of my excursions, I was trying not to fish on the shore of one of the lakes, but my wife insisted that I bait my hook so that I could catch her a catfish to fry up that evening. Not wanting to exert that much energy trying to reel in a catfish, let alone the potential injuries I may sustain from the stinging barbels, I convinced her that all the good catfish were in the middle of the lake. I got out my trusty inflatable raft and, utilizing the convenient foot pump, filled it with air and pushed off from the shore. Now I could actually lie down in public without seeming as if I were a lazy ne’er-do-well. This was pure genius. Well, while I was floating about on the water, I noticed some splashing and activity nearby. I didn’t even dare to have a hook on for fear that a catfish might be attracted to the shiny metal and hook it’s stupid self, so I just kept casting sinker in the general vicinity of the splashing, which seemed to create more splashing. From the shore, I’m sure that it must have looked impressive. Well, the splashing began to come closer to where I was floating and, after a few more casts, seemed to make a beeline directly for me. Now, I’ve seen Jaws I and II, so a tremor of fear trickled down my back until I remembered that the Great Whites were destined for deeper waters than those found at Possum Creek. I was rather shocked, however, when the splashing got really, really close and I found it to be caused by a very pissed off beaver that I had apparently conked in the head several times with my sinker. Apparently there are a literal ton of these flat tailed rodents gnawing about Possum Creek and, thankfully, I was able to extricate myself from the situation unscathed.

The walking trails are incredibly intriguing as well. You can explore areas that range from lakeside trails to wildflower fields to farmland and then into a beech tree forest, full of loamy trails and deep ravines. This is where I found some things that struck me as odd and made me explore the history of the park further. I came across a massive trestle, a large square expanse of concrete and several rusted out trolley car frames sitting inexplicably in the middle of the woods. The name of the woods also intrigued me: Argonne Forest. While it may sound like something out of Lord of the Rings, history’s most famous forest of the same name was a deadly battle site during World War I. Why would someone name a forest in Dayton after the site of such an epic battle?

In the late eighteen-hundreds, a boy was born named Null M. Hodapp. His boyhood friend was a boy named Ralph Clemons with whom he shared many adventures. They grew into adulthood together and enlisted in the Army to fight the Germans in World War I. In a sadly ironic twist of fate, Ralph was killed mere hours before the Armistice Treaty was signed. Ralph’s death was devastating to Hodapp as he returned to Dayton to resume his life. He eventually married LoRean D. Hodapp and became a widely regarded judge in the Dayton area. In the 1930s, Hodapp purchased 400 acres around Germantown Pike and dubbed the land Argonne Forest Park, in memory of his friend and the place in which he had died. The first building that was constructed was a clubhouse for veterans. Eventually, the park consisted of a dance pavilion, a horse track, a car racetrack, a shooting range and a swimming hole with a diving platform. “Swimming hole” is more than a slight misnomer as the “hole” was actually constructed by building a huge wall to block the Possum Creek, which created a massive swimming area replete with diving platforms, the remnants of which can still be seen today. Hodapp also bought several streetcars from the Oakwood-Dayton lines to be used as impromptu cabins and for the children to play in. Hodapp would also perform the Battle of Argonne Forest every Fourth of July, in memory of 322nd Field Artillery Unit who had fought there during World War I.

As the world moved into the next War, rationing and depletion of money contributed to the eventual demise of the park. Some sections were sold off, but the bulk of the park remained and was made into what is now known as Possum Creek MetroPark. Walking amongst the paths and seeing the relics of a bygone era, one can almost squint and see the shrieking children cannonballing off the diving platform or hear the music and the shuffling feet scrape over the dance hall floor. The grandeur is gone, but the memory remains indelibly etched into the sodden trails and the swaying branches of the forest.