10.27.04

Joe Marchilena was a sports writer for The Times-Tribune.
He wrote this column of us hiking Dog Slaughter Falls for the outdoors page.
Enjoy…..

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While trying to come up with an outdoors story this week, someone suggested I take a hike.
At first, I was kind of offended, but then I realized what was really being said and thought twice.

A hiking trip to Dog Slaughter Falls sounded like a good opportunity to try something new. I had never been out there before and my hiking experience is limited, unless you consider traipsing through the concrete jungles of the Northeast, hunting public transportation an outdoor event.

The plan was to meet at 2 p.m. and I arrived to find everyone dressed for the event — cool clothing, plenty of water, proper footwear — while I had worn a pair of jeans and worn out tennis shoes, without even thinking of bringing water. Oops.

After driving on a dirt road for what seemed like an hour — I began to wonder what was really going on out in the middle of the woods — the driver stopped and attempted to turn around. Apparently, we had missed the trail, although all I could see was a break between trees that I never would have spotted on my own.

As everyone got their gear together — I was equipped with my car keys, a notebook and a pen, avid outdoorsman that I am — I headed towards the trail with one of my companions. We stopped at the entrance of the trail to check out a sign that warned us of any dangers we might encounter. While it seemed perfectly reasonable to watch for broken limbs and damaged trees, does it really make sense to walk the trails looking up? According to the sign, yes — especially if it’s windy.

 Since it rained earlier in the day, the ground could be muddy. Or it might not be, I can’t really tell because the trail is covered with leaves of all shapes, sizes, colors and fragrances.

 Two or three weeks ago would have been the perfect time to hike the trail. The changing leaves and the crisp air would have made it a perfect autumn adventure. Instead, the air is humid and the wet leaves are slick, making any attempt to trek up or down a hill a real adventure. Good thing it isn’t windy because looking up is not an option.

 Close to halfway to the falls — at least it feels like it should be halfway but I have a feeling no one else would appreciate that as much as I would. The sound of water crashing to echoes in the woods and the air has grown slightly cooler. Around a bend and down an embankment and there we are, face to face with the falls.

 Not quite as awe-inspiring as Cumberland Falls, I think to myself, but the area is much more pleasant.
 No tourists gawking and snapping photos. No gift shops and snack bars. No signs of humanity at all. At that moment, all other worries and cares — along with any gripping about how far we’ve hiked — are gone and it’s just us and nature.

 Waterfalls seem to have that special power to hypnotize. The sound of the crashing water drowns out any other noise and the more you watch them, the harder you stare. The scene gets inside your head, too — who hasn’t asked themselves where does all the water come from and why doesn’t it ever run out?

 Eventually the realization that we can’t stay here all day comes and we head back to the car. While the trip up is full of energy and excitement to get to our destination, the return run is a test of endurance.

And so ends my first hiking trip. Definitely an experience and certainly something I’d want to do again. Except this time, I think I’ll leave my pants at home.

Category: 2004, October 2004
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