His book bag was filled with cookies, granola bars, a gatorade, two camelbaks, a change of clothes, and a towel. I was wearing my chacos. Obviously, we were ready to go. Not entirely sure of what awaited us, we climbed and climbed out of the valley we have now started calling home. Windows down and one direction playing, our arms slicing through the smoggy air and felt the temper drop with the high elevation. Rain clouds were ahead of us. It. was. PERFECT!
Muddling through the navigation as we have a habit of doing, we decided Alejandro, the name of our Ford Focus, had had it's fill and we pulled off to the side of the road to accompany the buick (whos owners also felt inclined to end their car journey and begin on foot.) The rest of the unpaved and quite uneven terrain was ventured by foot. A brief 5 minute walk lead us to the start of our trail! Now, Zach had done some research and informed me that the path was only about half a mile long but lead to a swimming hole that was supposed to be rated pretty high in the US. That was all I knew going in... but I went in with great confidence. After all, I am in the middle of reading My Side of the Mountain. Now if that doesn't equip someone for a moment like this, I don't what will. Sam Gribley had taught me all I needed to know.
(Keep in mind our habit of navigation). We start out wondering what was the trail. Now if that is not foreshadowing at it's finest, I don't know what is. We followed something that looked like a beaten path and found ourselves under a bridge about 60 yards later. No hike contains a bridge that is not crossed, so clearly, we need to get up to it. It couldn't have been 30 feet after crossing the bridge that we lost the trail. Well, that victory was shortly lived.... We decided to follow the creek and forget the non existing path all together. So from rock to boulder to boulder to rock we walked, swatting flies with each step. This went on for fifteen minutes; every time we felt nervous that we were lost without cause, we would see an empty bottle of some sort and find comfort knowing that someone else had taken these same steps. However, between you and me, most of the empty bottles were not water and I couldn't help but think we were in less than the best company... perhaps the company of some people looking to be off the path. We, on the other hand, were hoping to be on the path and couldn't find it. I guess thats the innate rebel inside Zach and I coming out.
Okay, so I am going to save you many of the details and jump ahead to this: we have come across rock cliff on both sides of us and water too deep to walk through in the middle. Our only decision, obviously, was to rock climb to the other side. Noting the dangers of this, we decided that it'd be best to find the trail than to find ourselves in a situation likened to the one we just left behind us. Zach pulled out his phone and said, "the trail is just to our right." So we began to climb the ravine. If I had you in person for an unlimited amount of time I still could not paint you a picture worthy of the hilarious disaster we endured. The climb was treacherous! Parts of it were at least a 70 degree incline. We were using our hands and feet to crawl through the dead brush that acted like those awful short metal brushes to our shins. It was hard weaving our way up and my chacos had become a shifter for the dirt passing through it's straps and allowing my toes to cradle the small rocks as an unwanted foundation for my already blistering feet. But really I didn't care; it was hilarious. Zach and I were spouting out jokes with each lengthy yard we climb and the adventure was accompanied by a song of laughter. Surely we were getting close to this path we thought... and then we saw it. There, descending the much elevation we just climbed, across the creek and a little ways upward, was the path. NO WAY! Zach and I just lost it. But he said, well maybe there is one over here too. Plus, worst case scenario, we'll just get to the top of the ravine and walk across it until we come across the falls. And with that type of birds eye view, we are sure not to miss it. No way would walking back to that path over there be quicker or less toilsome than just finishing our climb to the top of the ravine. And so we did. About 15 minutes and 6 breathers later we finished those last 100 feet..... only to find the top was wild brush allowing no trespassers to move forward. Our only decision was what we were both secretly fearing/laughing about. We had to climb back down the ravine we just conquered, cross the creek, and hike the other side to the trail. "The good news" Zach said," is that we could very well be the only ones who have ever walked this ground before." "Surely there are people out there who are just as navigationally challenged as us who have passed this way." I said. "Yes. But are they are determined as us?"
(the top of the ravine: unwalkable)
Once we finally got to the path, it took us about 50 steps to get to our destination. It was the biggest joke. But super fun and insanely gorgeous. But the walk back literally took us 6 minutes to get to the parking lot. Our 2 hour hike took us 6 minutes on the way. One word comes to mind: Typical.
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