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and then cut over on the Ridge Trail so they wouldn’t encounter any of the flooding.”
    They walked down a wide path lined with towering sycamore trees that skirted the picnic area.   Dodd turned left onto a narrower trail that led toward the river.   “This will take us down to the River Trail along Mather Gorge,” he said.
    The trail wound through some heavy underbrush and was punctuated with puddles of water from the recent flooding. They came out of the foliage into an open area with large jutting rocks and M.J. could see the cliff on the Maryland side of the river and hear the water rushing through the narrow passage below.
    They followed the trail between large outcroppings of moss- and lichen-covered rocks until they came to an open area where they could see the gorge in both directions.   M.J. walked to the edge and looked down.   The fast-moving water was splashing against the rocky walls on both sides of the gorge and in the middle there were large whirlpools that seemed to appear and disappear in the current.
    “The river is still up here,” Dodd said.   “It normally runs about seventy-five feet below the edge here, but it will take a few days before it calms down.”
    They walked another half mile until they came to a barricade warning that the trail ahead had washed out.
    “We’ll need to make a detour here,” Dodd said.   “This part of the River Trail washes out just about every time there’s any flooding and we haven’t figured out a way yet to keep it from happening.”
    They turned right and followed a path that emerged into an open area where massive stone walls lined canal locks that descended in steps to the south.   “These are more than 200 years old,” Dodd said. “It always amazes me that they are in such good shape.   It also amazes me that they were able to build them in the first place.   Some of those stones weigh a couple of tons and they all had to be cut by hand and then moved into place using mule teams.   Quite an engineering feat.”
    Pointing to the right, he said, “Up that way are the ruins of the town of Matildaville.   During the time the canal was being built and then when it was in operation, it was a bustling community.   There’s not much left now, just some stone foundations and part of a chimney.”
    They followed the River Trail south, paralleling the gorge, and then went up a steep incline that had cross-timbers to prevent erosion.   M.J. noticed that this part of the park felt more isolated.   The trail was less improved and the overhanging trees and massive rock outcroppings gave it an ominous quality that intensified as they hiked farther into the deep forest that covered the hillside.
    “These hills are what limit the flooding to the parts of the park that aren’t right along the river.   They’re also what protects Difficult Run,” Dodd said, pointing to the south.
    They reached the top of the hill and the trail intersected with another trail.   “This is the Ridge Trail and we can follow it all the way to Difficult Run,” he said. “This area is probably where the boys were biking before they were killed.”
    The trail leveled along the top of the hill and wound its way through the foliage until it began to slope down sharply over large rocks. It ended at Difficult Run and M.J. recognized the section where they had found the bodies.   In the daylight, she could better recreate the scene in her mind.   The descent on the Ridge Trail was quite steep and she guessed the boys would have been going very fast before they reached Difficult Run.   They had probably planned to turn right and head back to their car in the parking lot.   If someone was waiting for them at the bottom, it would have forced them to go left, not right.   They had been found less than fifty yards in that direction.
    “Let’s go down toward the river,” Dodd said, walking in the direction the boys had gone.
    A few hundred yards later, they reached the end