bunchberry
New member
Several times during the night I woke up as my sore muscles sought to find a more comfortable position. While I am usually a pretty sound sleeper, 12 hours in the land of Owl’s Head had thoroughly and completely worn me out, and even more, those hours had stirred me up inside. I was so exhausted that sleep should have come quickly and left late, but I was too restless to enjoy such a night. I finally got up at 9:20am…I was sleepy, sore, itchy, and thirsty…but I was extremely satisfied. I had summited Owl’s Head the day before, and to me, that is no small feat. My original plan had called for a solo hike today to one of my remaining 4,000 footers, but I knew when I woke up that I would need to alter that plan. At first I was overcome with disappointment—I had been looking forward to “my first solo hike” in the Whites for so long. I had told many about my plans, and I was disappointed in myself for still feeling the effects of yesterday’s hike. But I knew I needed to be honest—sure, I could force my way up a 4,000 footer, but that’s not the experience I wanted to have, or to remember, for my first solo hike.
Fortunately, a reminder from a friend repeated itself loudly in my head, “You don’t have to hike a 4,000 footer for your first solo hike.” Just the reminder I needed. I have often prided myself in being the kind of person who hikes for hiking’s sake, not for a list. But recently, I have been focused on finishing The List, and I have been making most all of my hiking plans with that goal in mind. There’s nothing wrong with being goal oriented, but I realized this morning that my goal had totally taken me over—so much that when I decided I couldn’t hike the Hancocks or North Twin like I had planned, my first thought was that I might as well just get on the road early and spend the rest of the day at home.
That first thought was followed by a much better second thought, which was that I should take a leisurely morning to think things through some more. So that’s exactly what I did, and by 1pm I was ready to hike. My destination was Bridal Veil Falls, a gentle 5 mile hike round trip. I started nervously, hoping that everything would go well for my first solo hike. I walked about five minutes away from my car, realized I had forgotten my camera, so went back for it. I started off once again, then got concerned that I might have forgotten to lock the car, so I went back again to check. It was already locked. By the time I left my car for the third time, I was feeling pretty shaky. I felt forgetful, vulnerable, and frankly, I felt like a chicken. Furthermore, I wasn’t even sure I was on the right trail—there was a generic hiker sign at the start of the trail, but nothing that said Bridal Veil Falls. When a couple came walking toward me, I tried to disguise my fear and ask them nonchalantly if the Falls were up ahead. They said yes, thank goodness.
Once I knew that I was indeed on the right trail, I was pretty sure that I couldn’t mess it up from there. I had read the trail description, and was going to be on the lookout for a bridge, a lean-to, and then the Falls. Very straightforward. As I hiked along I couldn’t get away from how uncomfortable I was with the uneasiness of the morning. It’s not easy being unsure of myself when I am usually the one to have it all together, all the time, every detail in place. Yet here I was trying to hike just two and a half miles to a nice waterfall and I felt like a wreck. My muscles felt awkward and creaky, and the mosquitoes and black flies were swarming all around me—even they seemed to be taunting me like bullies on a playground. “Look at you! We’re going to get the best of you!” I felt like crying.
Suddenly, sunshine. The cloudy and hazy day let the sun shine through, and the forest lit up like a gorgeous set on a stage. The leaves were glowing with light, and I saw at least four butterflies circling around me. Somehow, this simple change in the weather was just what I needed to let it all go. I stopped walking, let a mosquito bite me, and burst out laughing at my anxiety. My body felt free for the first time that day, and I did a couple jumping jacks just to let the bursting energy out. I started walking again, and slowly regained my humility, courage, and sense of humor. This is why I hike—hiking has a powerful way of transforming me, bringing me to a new place that I may not have found otherwise. And I didn't need a 4,000 footer for that to happen.
When I arrived at the falls there were several others there—two couples, and a family. I found a comfortable sitting rock and closed my eyes, blocking out the sounds of the people around me and focusing instead on the sound of the water and the natural air conditioning it provided me. In that moment, I was the epitome of content. After taking several minutes like that, I opened my eyes and took in the falls. Indeed, like a bridal veil and I found myself remembering my own bridal veil…how I picked it out with Marie and Anne, and how putting it on my head made me feel like a queen. Happy that I had gone back to the car for my camera, I took many photos of the falls. I even climbed up a bit for a closer view, and found another part of the falls and a little pool that I wouldn’t have seen had I just stayed below. While I was up there looking around, the other groups departed so when I came back down, I was all alone. Solo. Alone at a waterfall, yet feeling so far from lonely. I felt comforted, and I felt comfortable. I don’t know quite how long I stayed at Bridal Veil Falls, but when I left to head back down I felt like a new person from that morning. I felt free.
As I hiked down I jumped a bit when I heard something in the distance crack and boom like firecrackers…I quickly remembered that today was in fact the 4th of July—Independence Day. I smiled to myself at the irony. What a perfect date to mark my first solo hike, one I will never forget.
-katie
Fortunately, a reminder from a friend repeated itself loudly in my head, “You don’t have to hike a 4,000 footer for your first solo hike.” Just the reminder I needed. I have often prided myself in being the kind of person who hikes for hiking’s sake, not for a list. But recently, I have been focused on finishing The List, and I have been making most all of my hiking plans with that goal in mind. There’s nothing wrong with being goal oriented, but I realized this morning that my goal had totally taken me over—so much that when I decided I couldn’t hike the Hancocks or North Twin like I had planned, my first thought was that I might as well just get on the road early and spend the rest of the day at home.
That first thought was followed by a much better second thought, which was that I should take a leisurely morning to think things through some more. So that’s exactly what I did, and by 1pm I was ready to hike. My destination was Bridal Veil Falls, a gentle 5 mile hike round trip. I started nervously, hoping that everything would go well for my first solo hike. I walked about five minutes away from my car, realized I had forgotten my camera, so went back for it. I started off once again, then got concerned that I might have forgotten to lock the car, so I went back again to check. It was already locked. By the time I left my car for the third time, I was feeling pretty shaky. I felt forgetful, vulnerable, and frankly, I felt like a chicken. Furthermore, I wasn’t even sure I was on the right trail—there was a generic hiker sign at the start of the trail, but nothing that said Bridal Veil Falls. When a couple came walking toward me, I tried to disguise my fear and ask them nonchalantly if the Falls were up ahead. They said yes, thank goodness.
Once I knew that I was indeed on the right trail, I was pretty sure that I couldn’t mess it up from there. I had read the trail description, and was going to be on the lookout for a bridge, a lean-to, and then the Falls. Very straightforward. As I hiked along I couldn’t get away from how uncomfortable I was with the uneasiness of the morning. It’s not easy being unsure of myself when I am usually the one to have it all together, all the time, every detail in place. Yet here I was trying to hike just two and a half miles to a nice waterfall and I felt like a wreck. My muscles felt awkward and creaky, and the mosquitoes and black flies were swarming all around me—even they seemed to be taunting me like bullies on a playground. “Look at you! We’re going to get the best of you!” I felt like crying.
Suddenly, sunshine. The cloudy and hazy day let the sun shine through, and the forest lit up like a gorgeous set on a stage. The leaves were glowing with light, and I saw at least four butterflies circling around me. Somehow, this simple change in the weather was just what I needed to let it all go. I stopped walking, let a mosquito bite me, and burst out laughing at my anxiety. My body felt free for the first time that day, and I did a couple jumping jacks just to let the bursting energy out. I started walking again, and slowly regained my humility, courage, and sense of humor. This is why I hike—hiking has a powerful way of transforming me, bringing me to a new place that I may not have found otherwise. And I didn't need a 4,000 footer for that to happen.
When I arrived at the falls there were several others there—two couples, and a family. I found a comfortable sitting rock and closed my eyes, blocking out the sounds of the people around me and focusing instead on the sound of the water and the natural air conditioning it provided me. In that moment, I was the epitome of content. After taking several minutes like that, I opened my eyes and took in the falls. Indeed, like a bridal veil and I found myself remembering my own bridal veil…how I picked it out with Marie and Anne, and how putting it on my head made me feel like a queen. Happy that I had gone back to the car for my camera, I took many photos of the falls. I even climbed up a bit for a closer view, and found another part of the falls and a little pool that I wouldn’t have seen had I just stayed below. While I was up there looking around, the other groups departed so when I came back down, I was all alone. Solo. Alone at a waterfall, yet feeling so far from lonely. I felt comforted, and I felt comfortable. I don’t know quite how long I stayed at Bridal Veil Falls, but when I left to head back down I felt like a new person from that morning. I felt free.
As I hiked down I jumped a bit when I heard something in the distance crack and boom like firecrackers…I quickly remembered that today was in fact the 4th of July—Independence Day. I smiled to myself at the irony. What a perfect date to mark my first solo hike, one I will never forget.
-katie
