On Taking One’s Own Advice

Our destination was Tallulah Falls State Park with the idea that we would hike, I would take a lot of photographs and maybe we would attempt to hike the gorge floor. After we arrived and settled in to the campground, we set out on a short, get-to-know the area hike. I, of course took my camera. We hiked to the North Rim and I was treated to some of the most beautiful scenery in the southeast. Then and there, I realized that in spite of my physical limitations and my relative lack of fitness I had to attempt the gorge floor hike. Based on recent experiences and what I was to learn about this hike, I was challenged about whether or not I should stay on safer ground for me or not. Double clicking on each image should enlarge them.

It was not without a good deal of anxiety, a great deal of preparation, and a lot of encouragement from my wife that I headed off to wait in line with her to see if we could even be lucky enough to get a permit to hike that day. You see, the park only issues one hundred permits per day to the first appropriately prepared potential hikers. No prospective hikers in flip flops, Crocs or parents carrying infants. We were eventually ushered in, briefed, and during the course of that briefing informed that we would traverse 1,066 steps, the hike should take approximately four hours, there was no marked trail, and the ascent/exit (unless we chose to go back the way we came in) was a nine hundred foot 45 degree scramble/climb that the ranger described as “the hardest hike you will ever have in your life”. There were murmurs in the room and some spilled coffee I think. After our briefing, we headed back to the campground (located adjacent to the gorge) for last minute preparation and dog walking.

By 9:30am we were heading out on our adventure presumably (if they all went) with 98 of our new best friends. Because some will wonder, I’ll answer the equipment question now. I was carrying my camera pack with my trusty Nikon D5300, two lenses, a full two liter hydration bladder, an assortment of basic survival stuff, food, my phone, water shoes and a towel. From the beginning of the hike until the ascent, the D5300 hung around my neck. We had perfect weather that showed off the staggering beauty of the gorge and I took pictures non stop with the Nikon and my iPhone. By the time we reached the gorge floor, it was in the mid 80’s, my legs were burning and I didn’t care. These images should show you why.

We weren’t certain what we would find when we reached the floor, but I was at this point, quite sure that the sweat soaked haul down the stairs and slippery river crossing had been worth it. For about the next two hours, maybe more…I lost track of time, we climbed, crawled, shimmied, hopped and hauled ourselves across a boulders and deadfall strewn riverbanks. The ranger was right (I had assumed it was hyperbole) there was no trail. There was, just a general direction worn by many others before us. Was it the right direction? Who knew? No blazes. No indication of any kind. A tall person could make it that way, a short one that way…figure it out as you go. And we did. We stopped and took in the beauty and rested a couple of times. We just breathed and looked and breathed some more.

Finally, we reached the end of the gorge floor hike a point called Sliding Rock. Many folks gathered there jubilantly availing themselves of the cool water and the slippery rock before turning around and going back the way they came in or making the climb out as we did.

We rested again and soaked in the scenery before making our final water crossing and starting the climb. About a hundred yards into the climb out (no pictures as it was so difficult and steep all my gear was secured) I realized my hydration bladder was empty. By this time it was bloody hot. The sun was beating down on this section of the gorge wall intensely whenever we broke out of the shade. Things went from difficult for me to very damn difficult. I’m certain based on how I felt and later examination of my Garmin that on the ascent I hit maximum heart rate. Eventually, we made it to the top, around the south rim and back to the campground. I was dehydrated, very sore already (the following morning even more so) but rarely have I been more glad to have spent three hours and 46 minutes of my life in nature. It was stunning.

The next day we hiked both rims and the suspension bridge again. This time I brought the telephoto lens.

I have previously written of challenging ourselves in retirement, getting out there and seeing what the world has to offer. The world has a fantastic amount to offer…a stunning, breathtaking amount of memories to be made. Our great challenge is getting out of our comfort zone, finding the beauty, making the memories and experiencing life to its fullest. I was challenged by some of my limitations physically. But I pushed the envelope, and thanks to a supportive wife, a great doctor, and the determination to see what lies around the next bend in the river I followed my own advice. The challenge was quite real and I can empathize with those who struggle. But, despite full body soreness and an afternoon bathing up on hydration, the rewards were substantial. Deeply grateful to be able to have done this.

May you all seek what is around the bend. May you all find beauty and peace and have the time and opportunity marvel at the world. You’ve earned it.