As a young teenager, there was nothing I found more enjoyable than being in the great outdoors, whether it was playing organized sports or fishing with my grandparents. My friends and I particularly enjoyed Summer, when we would be gone from breakfast until dusk looking for things to do that wouldn’t get us into trouble (and sometimes things that did get us into trouble).  We relished the opportunity to wander the neighbourhood and the nearby forests and creeks, creating lasting memories. But most exciting of all was a weekend with “Gramps and Granny.”

On a cool fall day right around Thanksgiving, I was sitting on the front porch of my son’s and daughter-in-law’s home enjoying a cup of coffee, taking in the beautiful bright red and orange colors of the foliage on the hillside that is part of Petit Jean Mountain. Listening to the birds and all the other sounds not heard in a city, and surrounded by this peaceful beauty, I wanted to know: How did Petit Jean Mountain get its name?