Blyth Park and a Taco Truck (Week Twenty-One)
I live right next door to a rather major trail. There is what looks like a tiny park off to the side, but I always pass it as I am walking home from the comic shop. Well, I finally popped in.
Blyth Park is not meant to be big and fancy. That field there? The playground? That is the heart of it. However, it is rather close to the water. There is a string of power lines towering through a valley. So you can get yourself a pleasant little twenty minute stroll. Maybe let the kids run crazy while you sit and rest for a bit. But exciting? Momentous? Not hardly. A nice enough corner park, and bigger than I expected.
My only real complaint for this humble setting was that the trail was a joke. It was not maintained at all. You feel like it is leading you somewhere, and you end up in a pile of bushes. I do not know if there is an extensive trail network hiding out there, or only meager strips of dirt that dead-end with no reason. Hiking is not happening here. Meager strolls only.
The next day, I found myself at the opposite end of the same park. I was dropped off about two miles from my place and I felt like a walk. Low and behold, I walked past a taco truck.
Now, I had this fear of food trucks. I was convinced that they were going to give me food poisoning. This was in no way based on any occurrences in my life or any statistics. It was just what I thought would happen.
Eat from a food truck, throw up. Simple, elegant, but without any truth.
I can say this because my coffee shop is under construction. We are not allowed to operate from our store. So where are we? That’s right. In a food truck. (Technically, it is a trailer, but it has wheels, darnit. Close enough.)
This food truck I visited by the trail was perfectly clean. The guy inside seemed friendly enough for a person I only saw briefly. He sold me two tacos for $4. I can handle that kind of pricing.
The tacos were rather tasty. Granted, they were both rather petit. They easily fit in the palm of my hand. They were, to put it gently, “precious” in size. They never got me sick. They went down easy. I even sucked a little extra juice out of the limes.
Turns out, Jon Favreau was not leading me astray with his charming movie. Phew.
A quaint park and a quality snack. Not too shabby for one trail. I won’t be rushing back to either of the two places, but I still enjoyed it.
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