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I roamed the woods along the creek for weeks after this accidental adventure, but I was unable to locate the far end of that last dark tunnel. Finally, I inflated a small air mattress and floated into the tube. The water was shallow, and I pushed along the cold stone walls until I spilled into a wetland along France Avenue.

I quickly recognized this as the spot where my four older sisters and I flew kites in dry seasons. I could see the upper floors of the IDS Center, Minneapolis’s newest skyscraper, rising above the treetops and reflecting the aqua sky. I abandoned my raft and, following the trajectory of another culvert, walked over Basswood Road. I stood on the western shore of Cedar Lake and watched as water from the tube—water that had begun its journey at least three miles away, in Twin Lakes Park—flowed into the calm blue. I took in the open water, breathing deeply.

In subsequent expeditions that summer, I pedaled my Schwinn Stingray around Cedar Lake, eventually reaching the opposite shore, where I came upon a canal. I stood on a railroad bridge spanning the canal and looked down at the water. Had I continued to the next links in the Minneapolis Chain, I would have come first to Lake of the Isles, then to Lake Calhoun, and on to Lake Harriet. From there I would have found my way to Minnehaha Creek, and then on to the gateway to the world, the Mississippi River, which flows from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico.