My hiking days are over...
Y'all might have heard I don't outdoors.
Like, I'm comfortable saying I prefer to be indoors except when the temperature is between 40 and 60 and then I'm still gonna be looking for a door back inside.
But, for reasons we will NEVER understand, Mac thought yesterday would be a good time to HIKE to Linville Falls.
Y'all....had I KNOWN that before hand, my clothing choices would have been VERY different.
I think Mac described it as "a fashion diva on the trail" look.
So, we are out and about on this adventure that doesn't involve any work for any of us, and I'm loving that we start with a big breakfast at a local restaurant, then a drive up in the mountains.
We are in territory I've not been in that I recall, when he takes a sharp right and I catch a glimpse of the sign:
"To the Falls"
Hmmm...hope we can see them from the parking lot. Or maybe we have some sort of drive by thing where you lean out the window and see them.
MAYBE there's a little ramp and you just go over and see them from a short walk from your car.
So, here we are....at the TRAILHEAD.
Shoulda turned around RIGHT there, but NOOOOO... I CAN DO THIS!
It's a narrow-ish trail and trail is the right word. I realize we're going all downhill for the first little bit and Mac points out that it's "ONLY 4/10 OF A MILE DOWN THERE"...
Y'all...I can walk a mile with NO problem.
On concrete On a track In a mall In my house On a treadmill On a sidewalk In town
But up and down and around and through the merry woods we go is NOT gonna work for me.
Yet I persevered.
Because I am NUTS.
I keep having to pull my flare bottom leggings up because it's muddy and leafy and woodsy and the long vest I am wearing keeps grabbing random detritus from the mossy floor.
I found a stick to use as a walking stick and between holding my pants up, holding the stick and unwrapping it from my vest every 3rd step, it was slow going.
We finally, freaking finally got to the end of that trail head.
Oh look...it's ONLY 500 MORE FEET TO THE FALLS!
Yeah, y'all enjoy. Take a picture. Tell me about it when you get back. Have Fun. I'll rest.
No really...I DO NOT MIND.
"But it's all downhill, you can make it, we'll go slow."
I am an idiot.
Ok, I say, I'll do it.
Mainly to shut them up and get back to the truck faster.
So off we go. People pass us on the way down and hand to God, we meet them coming back before we even get there.
Yeah, slow is the word.
The treacherous part involved rocks and a slippery little narrow path that I managed to navigate, holding my pants up and pushing the stick in front of me. If I had fallen, death would have been quick because I would have impaled myself of my steady companion of tree bark and broken limbs.
We finally made it to the falls, and yep, there they were. I was expecting Niagra, but these were still very pretty. The rock wall I was able to sit down on was the best thing about it all, along with the people watching and the breeze.
As we started back up to civilization or at least an air conditioned truck, Tater tried to roll my flare leggings up in some fashion so they would stay up, but mainly it just made me look really hip since they sorta fell as I walked.
Children passed me, and families carrying children passed me, swift and sure with their appropriately clothed bodies and well shod feet.
Hey, at least I wore tennis shoes. They were Bob's with animals all over them and slip on, but they weren't flip flops with rhinestones on them, so I count that as a win.
Near the top, we met a large family that has paused and were questioning the sanity of walking to see the falls.
They asked us how bad it was and my insane husband said, "Oh not too bad."
At which point, I staggered to a stop, hesitant to do so, because starting again was questionable, and politely told them he was a liar and that they should turn around right now and go get ice cream.
At the top, where the blessed pavement was, I told the older couple I met that they could have my walking stick and the lady gladly took it.
Tater told me I should keep it, and we could clean it up for 'the next time.'
Lemme tell ya a secret.
There isn't gonna be a next time...