“Should I bring my swimsuit?”
I was rifling through a pile of clean clothes on my bedroom floor.
Sarah looked at me with her usual directness.
“If we’re going to be inside a waterfall, then yes. I’m wearing mine.”
My sister Sarah is an excellent adventure buddy. She tends to be game for most things, she’s a kindred spirit, and she owns a Jeep. We knew we had to go on an adventure today, and as soon as I’d said, “Find a waterfall and go inside it,” Sarah was on board.
I found my swimsuit in my car – barely dry from the last impromptu swim I went on – and we hopped in the Jeep to go waterfalling.
(I use the term waterfalling so that we are all clear on what we were doing. Swimming at the falls, it turns out, is strictly prohibited. We wouldn’t dream of it. Waterfalling is nothing like swimming. It is the art of climbing waterfalls and going inside of them. )
We are lucky to live where we do, Sarah and I agreed as we drove south on state route 73. Just 20 minutes from my apartment is the Fallsville Wildlife Preserve, surrounded by some of the prettiest farm land in the county.
We pulled into the parking area next to a trail leading into the woods. An empty, lone pickup truck was the only other car in the lot.
Out of an abundance of caution, I called my brother to let him know where we were. Then we hit the trail, arguing about who would run for help and who would stay and fight if we found trouble. (Over Sarah’s objection, obviously she would be the runner.)
Sunlight slipped through the overhead trees and sparkled on the water. The rocks were mossy and slippery but we made it into the water and up into the falls.
We didn’t end up finding trouble, and we never saw another person. What we did find was a narrow path through the woods leading to a glistening, rushing falls.
We followed the path to a steep climb down to the base of the falls. Sunlight slipped through the overhead trees and sparkled on the water. The rocks were mossy and slippery but we made it into the water and up into the falls.
I ran into a friend at dinner last night who said the last time he was at Fallsville, the water was rushing too heavily to go anywhere near it.
Sarah and I had picked the perfect day, though. The water was chilly but not icy, and it was definitely flowing, but not too heavily that we couldn’t climb in.
We laughed, almost slipped a few times too many, got absolutely soaked, and stood absorbing the falls, the nearby cliffs, and the just-turning leaves.
“I’m glad you brought me along for this,” Sarah said.
We decided to head to Rocky Fork Lake for a swim next since we were already wet. As we scrambled up the steep climb back to the trail, we were both winded.
When we ate dinner later, I realized I was absolutely starving, the kind of hungry you only get from being outside all day. That’s the way I want to feel, I decided, at the end of every day. Adventure number 4 was a success.