We thought Karen was sending us to a shady, cool park, but it turned we drove on some of western Pennsylvania's finest crumbling highways to discover the North Strahane Township municipal park was a hot, almost treeless expanse carved out of a hill and dominated by a Little League field. As a bonus, beautiful garages of gravel, equipment and junk lined one edge of the park. A few picnic benches roasted in the sun.
This was disappointing, but then we spotted a pavilion on top of the hill. Fine. We drove up, only to discover the whole area was a construction zone, and the pavilion was merely a roof over a concrete pad. Hunger gnawing at us, we weren't going to be defeated. We turned around, parked by a grassy hillside on the edge of the park -- across the street from houses and a few yards from an evil-looking pale green construction overflow pond -- and sat in the limited but satisfying shade of a young tree to eat the sandwiches Michele made out of the back of the car. Lemons, lemonade. With some watermelon slices, it turned out to be a restful break. Maybe Karen knew what she was doing after all.
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