Me and Cochise (my collie) prowled Metson and it's water shed when I was a lad and figured out how it fed South Lake. Seldom saw the water running.
I would take people up the rocks to the east end where most folks didn't go.
One foggy morning a jazz trumpeter was playing across the road overlooking Speedway Meadows.
Never knew who it was,but it was beautiful music in the swirly mists.