Things I Will (and Will Not) Miss in D.C. #6: Rock Creek Park and the National Zoo

Most days I take for granted the awesome park and zoo that is only about a 10 minute walk from our house. It's lush (and cooler) in the summer, beautiful with color in the fall, and is one of Jesse's favorite running spots in the morning. The bridge you see in the photo is the Connecticut Avenue (or Taft) bridge and is just one of the many magnificent structures that span the Rock Creek Valley. Rock Creek originates somewhere up in Maryland, snakes through D.C., and ends at the Potomac River. The creek is much less impressive than the beautiful natural areas that inhabit the valley, as well as the hiking/biking trails throughout. The National Zoo is located near the southern end of Rock Creek and is a little oasis within the city. Oh, and did I mention that it's FREE?!

I love the fact that there is no pressure for us to see and do everything in one visit. If one afternoon I want see the pygmy hippos and Jesse wants to watch the gibbons, we walk on down and explore only the areas that are of interest. We both have pretty fond memories of the zoo and frequented the park early on in our relationship. Why? Because, well, animals are always surprising and it was a cheap way to get away from grad school papers and stress. Jesse's first apartment in Adams Morgan faced the zoo and in the early morning if he had his windows open, we could hear the gibbons screeching their distinctive call and response. One Saturday morning, we decided to take a walk over to try and catch the gibbons live. I don't remember if we made it in time, but I think the payoff was worth it. The animals are all so much more active in the morning. Maybe it's because of an early feeding time, or they get up at dawn and then nap through D.C.'s oppressive afternoon heat.

As we rounded the corner from the gibbons area, we noticed that one of the orangutans was making her daily trip from the Think Tank to the Great Ape House via the "O Line." It's basically two ropes that span from giant towers throughout the park and the orangutans are free to come and go as they please. On this particular morning, the lady orangutan had gathered quite a crowd below and she was in no hurry to scoot along. There was a frantic park ranger trying to shoo people at least 15 feet away, and I thought, "oh god, she's going to jump." But no, she stuck out her rump, and dropped a giant poo right on the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure I saw her chuckle as she continued on her way down the O-line. The crowd let out a giant gasp and turned away in horror. The cleanup crew was there in seconds to wash it all away - apparently she loves targeting unsuspecting tourists. When we both turned to each other and cracked up, because poop is hilarious, I knew it was true love.

If you're not a morning person, then I'd wait to go in the late afternoon, say around 3:30-4:30pm. It's an unofficial witching hour that sets off internal clocks within most small children. During this hour you can witness the distinctive animal-like behavior that goes along with total brain meltdown. No amount of ice cream or snacks can prevent child unraveling during this crucial hour, so grab a bench and prepare to ride out the wave of terror at the zoo. The signs of pending toddler explosion include: irrational and unintelligible screaming/moaning, jello-like bones that make walking an impossible feat, and disheveled hair and clothing that is usually smeared with red and purple snow cone juice. These children are always accompanied by a set of ragged parents who are feverishly speed-dialing their pharmacy for extra reserves of birth control (while dragging the aforementioned jello-boned child). Don't try and feed the worn-down family, and for god's sake don't make direct eye contact - unless you enjoy getting a stroller or box of popcorn in your face. Just bow your head and walk quickly away from the scene.

Ahh. I will miss our afternoon walks in D.C.