I have been longing for something lately. I haven't been able to exactly place my finger on what has been missing but I have felt like something has been lacking in my life. So I set out to try and figure out what had happened. Why did I all of the sudden start feeling this way? Things were going well for the most part in my life. Sure things could've been better but isn't that pretty much always the case?
I had this sense that I needed to escape. I needed to get alone for awhile, away from the Television, away from my iPad and iPhone, away from Facebook. I needed to grab my pipe, a pad, a pencil, and get away. The unfortunate reality is that I was unable to get away in the method I'd like to the most.
If I had it my way I'd put together a pack of camping gear and start walking somewhere. A dream of mine has always been to walk across the country. I stumbled upon a book a few years ago titled "A Walk Across America" by Peter Jenkins. Ever since reading that book which details his journey from Alfred, NY to Louisiana, along with "The Walk West" which is the second part of his trip across the country, I've had this dream of doing the same. Peter took a few years to complete his journey and I'd rather opt for the quicker 4 to 5 month experience. Still something deep within my soul longs to know if I have what it takes.
I think that's the case for most men. We want to know if we have what it takes. Can I walk into the belly of the beast and emerge victorious? When I feel like I'm missing something, something inside, I simply want to get alone and do something dangerous.
My family has a lake house on a nearby lake in Central New York. Just a bit away from our front door is a creek that flows directly into the lake. If you follow the creek inland you'll eventually find yourself at the base of a 100 foot waterfall. It's not a dangerous hike, the worst that could happen would be a sprained ankle or something along those lines. Yesterday I decided it was time for the adventure I had been longing for, sort of. I drove out to the camp and packed a bag. A knife, my pipe, a book of matches, two candles for meditation purposes, a walking stick, and a rather serious climbing rope that I had draped over my shoulder like Indiana Jones or Rambo. I didn't really think about the rain we had recently received in Central New York which made the creek about 6 inches higher than usual and running pretty fierce considering it's typical personality. It's as if someone showed it a documentary on the great Mississippi river and it suddenly decided to grow tough and strong. That is assuming you could show a creek a documentary and it suddenly change its personality. Anyways, the water was a little strong for my liking so I decided to climb the trail that ran above the creek instead.
1.25 miles and climbing 430 ft. into the sky as you hike up towards the waterfalls, the hike is moderately simple enough. It's marked well showing you the direction to follow, it does climb seriously in some places and at others it runs rather close to the edge of the hillside that would cause serious harm if not death should someone lose their footing and slip off the trail. Again, not thinking about the weather conditions I was surprised to find the trail rather difficult due to its coverage of beautifully dead leaves that simply covered the incredibly slippery mud underneath. The hiking trail was not that challenging, slipping only a handful of times I was fortunate enough to not fall near the side of the drop-off.
After a bit of time I arrived at the top of the trail. A parking area for those not living near enough to walk to the waterfalls is located at the top along with a visitor board detailing some information about the area and the falls themselves. It's another .20 mile hike to the trail that leads down to the base of the main waterfall. I hiked over and looked down upon the base of the waterfall trying to view an area I could sit to mediate for awhile. The water was higher than usual and running a bit strong, just like at the base of the creek, but I thought I spotted an area I could sit.
The path leading down to the base of the waterfall is no joke. Declining rather aggressively without any sure footing due to the rain and mud, it was rather dangerous to attempt this climb alone. I pulled off my rope and secured it to a large tree at the top of the trail. Throwing the access rope down to the bottom I grabbed the rope and began my decent. It was near impossible to climb down without slipping constantly, almost like trying to climb on solid ice.
I made it down and then realized I wouldn't be able to make it to the very bottom, at least not from this side of the ravine. I would have to cross the ravine and make it to the other side in order to find a dry and flat space to meditate. The water was rushing even stronger and deeper at the base of the waterfall so I wasn't about to cross at this point. Above the waterfall there was a path I could cross over and then climb down the other side to arrive at my desired place. So I tuned around and began to climb back up to the top of the hillside where I could pick the trail up and walk across. Climbing up was a little more intense than climbing down, but I made it none the less.
As I began walking the trail over to cross the waterfall I found a place I'd never seen before. There were two places where flat rocks were set directly on the edge of the 250 ft. drop. One went out in a narrow fashion and seemed only fitting to stand upon while the other was wider and seemed perfect to sit down and relax.
I stepped over to that area and gazed down. As a child I was always afraid of heights. I've become more comfortable with them as an adult but still get a little weak in the knees at times. At least I'm not crying and asking for my mommy any longer, at least not due to the fear of heights.
I sat down on the flat rock and began to unpack my bag. I pulled off my snow hat that my grandfather left a stock pile of when he returned to heaven, took off my work gloves doubling as protection from the elements, I grabbed the two candles and placed them by my side on the left where there was more space available on the rock. I removed my pipe and began to pack the tobacco inside its bowl, then I grabbed the book of matches and set fire to the whiskey flavored crumbled leaves. I lit the candles but the wind was blowing too hard for their wicks to stay lit very long. I tried placing the gloves and the snow hat as a barrier to the wind but my attempts failed so I left them alone.
Sitting from my perch atop the great falls I gazed out among the beauty created. The way the rocks were formed by years of water pressure, the moss that grew and ran behind and alongside the falling water, the brilliant leaves clinging to some hope of life from their trees that ran alongside the creek and hillside.
As I sat there I began to pray. I was hoping for and half expecting some sort of heavenly experience. I had brought myself out to this peaceful place, I even took the hardest and most challenging way to get here, surely God would gift me with an angel at least. Maybe Gabriel would come delivering a message from the throne telling me of some journey I was supposed to take. Heck, I would've settled for just about anything really. Something to tell me God knew what I was up to and He was with me. I sat there and nothing happened. It began to snow a bit. A slow and deliberate snow not the wild frenzy snow that we usually experience in these parts. It didn't bother me, it made the whole experience that much better, sort of.
After about 30 minutes I emptied my pipe and stomped out the tobacco. I packed my bag and gathered my rope together. Before I hiked back I walked over to a small ledge and held my hand under the waterfall to collect something to drink as the pipe left me rather parched. The water was beyond any cold I've ever experienced before leaving my hands almost frozen stiff.
I returned to my rock sanctuary to gather my things and began down the path that lead back home. I took the easier path back which gave me some time to think about things. As I walked back home I imagined myself on the journey I long for deep inside. I pictured myself as being in the northern states trekking along an old country road. A car drove past me and I imagined them stopping and asking what I was doing out here with all this equipment. "I'm walking across America." Would be my response. They would find that wonderful and open their home to me for the evening providing me with the first hot meal I've had in 2 weeks. At their dinner table I would tell them all about my journey thus far and then begin to talk religion, politics, and the facts of life with them over coffee and apple pie. I would retire to their guest room for the evening and write in my journal about the loving couple that invited me to stay with them. In the morning I would wake up, have an old country breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Jones, or Bill and Jane as they would insist I call them from now on. I would exchange phone numbers with Bill and Jane and promise to call when I finish my travels. Then I'd walk out their front door and return to my lonely journey.
There is this longing for adventure, this desire to know that I have what it takes. I think it's the same thing most men experience at some point in their lives. My time on Monday was a small glimpse, a taste of the wine but not the whole bottle. Who knows if I'll ever be able to experience this journey, maybe at some point in life the journey will present itself in a different form and I'll get my shot. For now the question remains, "do I have what it takes?" Here's hoping I do.
- Cheers.
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