Adventure time!
On Saturday, John and I headed out to a nearby State park for some R&R.
They have a waterfall there, accessible via an easy 1/2 mile hike that is very popular. We knew it would be popular (read: people-y) and decided to go anyway, because even though we prefer solitude it seemed wrong somehow to never have seen the falls that the park is named after.
When we arrived at the falls, we were dismayed, yet not at all surprised, that literally everyone had ignored copious posted warnings about slippery rocks and falling to one’s death to climb over the railing and stick their smelly feet in the pool at the bottom of the falls.
Disappointed, we decided to salvage the trip by hiking back via the Cliff Trail.
The Cliff Trail is much less people-y because it’s fairly strenuous, and I guess the falls people don’t do strenuous. John and I aren’t in the best shape of our lives either, but I told him that the trail would be “mostly downhill,” since we had climbed mostly uphill to reach the falls.
That was a bold-faced lie, but he fell for it.
So we huffed and puffed and saw some really beautiful vistas and generally didn’t die on our way back from the falls.
For the second half of our adventure, we traipsed down a short trail to the edge of the lake, where we picnicked and held fishing poles in our hands for no apparent reason since I only caught one tiny fish and threw it back. Pretty though!
Are you ready for the best part? John was sitting by the bank, not catching fish, when a furry friend climbed up right between his feet!
Me: “John, there’s a racoon…”
John: “Wha’? Oh [expletives deleted]
John leapt back, cursing, and the racoon leapt back, hissing, then scampered off along the bank.
By this point I had managed to grab my phone to capture the moment in this National Geographic-quality photo:
Did I mention I absolutely love racoons? Here’s one wearing a tutu:
Seriously, the internet is full of this stuff.
Anyway, all in all a grand adventure with my honey with lots of magic (and a racoon).