Guided Tour Through State Park a Natural for Families

Nearly all that interests a 4-year-old boy and 3-year-old twin girls is right there in Topanga State Park on a clear autumn morning.

Everything else is in Teri Giacaloni’s soiled red backpack.

Teri is a volunteer docent who conducts nursery nature walks twice a month. Kids ages 6 and under, along with a parent, meet at the park with a snack and an appetite for discovery.

My son Daniel and twin daughters Gina and Angela joined Teri, her 3-year old daughter and seven other kids this week on a two-hour walk. My wife Diane and I tried to keep up.

Getting there was a breeze. The park is seven miles from Ventura Boulevard, although upon arrival the congested San Fernando Valley may as well be a continent away.

“We’re at someone else’s house even though we are outside,” Teri, 38, says as the walk begins. “Lots of animals live here.”

Signs warning of poison oak and rattlesnakes mark the beginning of the trail, which makes a long circle around the top of the park. First stop is a soil-filled tray with molds of animal tracks: raccoon, bobcat, cougar, coyote and fawn.

“Maybe we’ll see some of these tracks along the trail,” Teri says.

Daniel’s eyes gleam. “I want to see a mountain lion, Dad,” he says before running to catch up with our guide, whom he clearly has determined knows everything that is important on this day.

We walk uphill, making use of a natural staircase formed by oak roots in the trail.

Angela must be prodded because she squats every few yards, scanning the trail and digging her fingers into the ground. She is mesmerized by the tiniest oak leaf, holding it before her eyes with both hands.

We examine animal droppings. Scat flecked with red indicates a coyote has been eating berries.

Continuing the theme during a break under a shady tree, Teri lifts a book from her backpack titled “Everybody Poops,” and begins reading to the kids while they eat their snacks. Their appetites are unaffected.

The backpack is a treasure chest of natural wonders.

Teri pulls out and passes around pieces of honeycomb, a glass container stuffed with three large, dead bumblebees, a Chumash Indian scraping tool, pieces of wool and cotton, and a variety of herbs natural to the environment.

Three bird nests are next, and the kids feel how the soft interior contrasts with the prickly exterior.

One is lined with cellophane wrappers from cigarette packages. Another is filled with minute skeletons of baby birds.

Teri begins reading a second book, this one about a worm named Squiggly, when a large doe crashes through the brush about 30 yards in front of the group. I quickly lift Gina above my head and she catches a glimpse of the deer.

“Isn’t she cuuuute ,” Gina says.

Moments later, the rest of the deer family--a buck and two fawns--dash past our group, then sprint across a rye field.

“It’s incredible they came so close to us when we were being so loud,” one of the parents says.

At the top of the trail a breathtaking view unfolds. The ocean is visible over Pacific Palisades and the rejuvenated hills after last year’s fires are a pleasing sight.

On the way down, Gina asks to be carried.

Most of the kids--Daniel and Angela included--make the entire walk, but a few end up with their arms draped around Mom or Dad’s neck.

Teri points out bugs eating the bark of a hollow tree, and Gina perks up, squirming out of my arms and into the tree. Insects are her passion; she spends hours scouring our back yard for “roly polys.”

Other hollow trees hold different mysteries.

One is full of dry honeycombs. Another is climbed through by everyone shorter than 4 feet.

After sidestepping more droppings, Teri mentions that coyotes are important because without them we would be overrun with field mice and rats.

Diane shoots me a wry smile; we hear packs of coyotes howling late at night from our Thousand Oaks bedroom, and she fears them attacking our dog.

The final adventure for the kids is a fence covered with lizards. “Catch a wizard!” exclaims one boy.

The wizard here has been Teri, who made a simple walk around a state park an instructive and memorable experience for children.

Pockets of the natural world are all around us, and we all should take the time to take it in.

And just as Teri predicted, by the time we leave the canyon our kids are asleep in their car seats, dreaming of deer dancing across a meadow.

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Reservations are required for the Nursery Nature Walks, which take place at numerous locations in the San Fernando and Santa Clarita valleys and Ventura County.

Information: 310-998-1151.