THE RAVINES OF RAVENNA If I ever wanted to kill somebody and make it look like an accident or suicide, there's only one place I would take my victims: to Ravenna (and not just to ensure a safe getaway). On a cold winter night, the ravines of Ravenna Park fill with wet fog, backlit by the residual glow of streetlights from the quiet streets north of the U-District to create a smudgy woodland nightmare. Up on the bridges, looking down, you can't see the bottom, but you can hear the whistling wind and the rustling underbrush; what's waiting down there? Hard to say, but each year there are stories of students being chased through the night by faceless maniacs, day hikers stumbling over dead bodies, and, of course, dramatic suicide plunges from high atop the park's overpass bridges. If you're a nature lover and think I'm just being a hater, I triple dare you to take an unaccompanied walk through Ravenna Park some November midnight. Just don't forget to make out a will before you go. SEAN NELSON