The walk did not begin here - in fact, this is very near the end of the walk.

The walk began here, on Sarah's Way, just in front of the house, where Jake left me to watch baby Kalib while he went back to get something he forgot.

Whatever it was, he's got it now.

The air is crisp and cool, below freezing. See the frost? It feels good. Muzzy loves it.

We pass by some campaign signs.

We come upon a street where dogs sometimes roam. Jacob puts the leash on Muzzy. Muzzy would not intentionally ever hurt another dog, but sometimes he is so eager to play with them that he scares them damn near to death.

We leave the road and cross through a marsh. The water in the top portion of the grasses is frozen, but below it is not. Mostly, the frozen grass supports us, but sometimes our feet push through. Baby Kalib stays dry. Where's Muzz?

There's Muzzy! Here boy, here!

When Jake was in the second grade, he had to climb this hill to catch the school bus. "We called this 'Dead Man's Curve,'" he tells me. 

"Why?"

"I think the story was something like a kid riding a four-wheeler crashed here, and killed himself. His ghost still haunts the trail."

Quite plausible.

We reach the marsh behind our house. To better understand the next picture, please take note of the ruts left by four-wheelers.

A quarter century ago, there was no visible ownership of this piece of land. Then, maybe about ten years ago, a couple bought 17 acres of it and put their house and yard on the dry part, right in the middle of what had been a trail that we used all the time for walking, mountain biking and cross-country skiing.

Still, he was a good guy and he said there was no need to stop; he would not stop anyone from crossing the marsh, which he preferred to call, "a meadow."

Trouble was, while a four-wheeler is an excellent machine, one cannot say the same for the drivers of many of them. The same thing goes for snowmachines. They did so much damage to his property that he finally put up a sign, "walkers only." Only the responsible, conscientious, drivers paid any attention.

If anything, the others began to tear the wetlands up even worse - just to demonstrate that they could.

So finally he erected barricades at each end, and put up no trespassing signs. He still lets us pass through, though. And I still see signs of new four-wheeler trespass.

Before we reach the house, Jake adjusts Kalib's St. Bernard hat.

We enter our back yard.

Jake prepares to lift Kalib from his off-road stroller. I am impressed with how good a dad Jake is. Better, I think, than I was to him. Of course, he was more ornery than Kalib is.

The walk is over.

Caleb watches the debate between Wasilla's own Sarah Palin and Joe Biden. Martigny does not care.