In middle school I would walk back home when school was done. The normal route was to walk down the main road, turn, then walk down another road that leads to my neighborhood. I didn’t always go this way though. When I walked back with my friends from my neighborhood, we first started by crossing through the houses across the street from the school. It was mysterious to me since I didn’t know anyone that lived there, but eventually we would get to what looked like a dead end: a small wooden barrier standing in front of the woods. We climbed over and quickly got on a hidden little trail, the kind that wasn’t made by design but by visitors over time. The hidden trail takes us down until we get to the official trail that connects a few neighborhoods through the woods. At the nadir between the hills, there was a bridge over a gentle stream with large rocks to hop between, trees disappearing into the sky, a few of which had fallen, and the quiet rambling of wildlife. This was the epitome of the scenic route. Climbing up the hill we return to society, making our way past large homes until we got to our familiar city of apartments. Another journey through the hidden path complete.

This was one of many hidden paths I remember from my childhood. Kids have a way of getting off the main path and finding something for themselves. There’s a sense of a escape, away from the surveillance of adults. But also a sense of ownership, as in that path was made by kids, for kids. These two factors combine to create a mystique: for a moment we disappeared into a transient world and made jokes the outer world could not hear.

Sometimes these paths are very simple. The dirt under a fence was dug out, making enough space for a small person to slip through. One of these openings let me get from my apartment complex to the next one over. Another opening would let me cut a long walk to a strip mall where me and the boys would get cheap Mexican food with our student discount. Hidden paths can also be hidden in plain sight. Behind one of my friend’s backyard there was a tunnel that connected to the little river nearby. A few times we’d go exploring in there and see what we could find.

Every step into a hidden path was another adventure, bringing a sense of wonder and whimsy into my life. As a kid I definitely took them for granted. Today, I lament that I no longer have access to these hidden paths. As I said, they are for kids, and any adult trying to go through these paths is inviting suspicion. So these days I take the normal route and let kids have their hidden world to themselves.