Twisting Falls...

Saturday morning dawned bright, if not clear, and Alan and I decided it was a good day to go exploring. So, we packed up the thermos and travel mugs (have coffee, will travel....it's a MUST for us) and headed out. Today's adventure was brought to you by...we haven't a clue, let's flip for it. But I suddenly remembered that I'd wanted to try to find Twisting Falls since I'd been up here, and had never succeeded. That decided it...Twisting Falls, it was.

Situated on the Elk River, almost at the TN/NC state line, the falls are reputed to be a

favored... but extremely dangerous...hangout with the younger crowd. Rumor has it that people are wont to go OVER the falls (a thought I could not conceive of ANYONE in their right mind attempting to do so), resulting in injury (huh...imagine that) and even a death or two. The story was that it was so isolated, and in such a hard to reach place, that it was very difficult for rescue workers to access it....even in a chopper.

Duly warned, we decided to go exploring anyway. We, after all, have the sense God gave us, and would never attempt such an asinine feat, so there should be no danger to us at all.

Our first mistake was assuming that the falls themselves were the only danger. Our first challenge, however, was finding the place, which took a lot of luck and searching on the internet before directions good enough to get us there could be found. Eventually, we did find them, and after printing them out, we were off, coffee in hand.

By the time we had actually gotten on the road, however, the sky had started clearing a bit, and we felt exhilarated by spending a sunny Saturday in such a wonderful pursuit...it has become heaven to us to explore all the natural beauty that surrounds us here.

It took us about 45 minutes of highway travel, and another 15 minutes of following pig-trails before we found the right 'old barn' the unmarked trailhead was across the road from, but we finally arrived, reasonably sure we'd located the place. You'd think that a place so well-known locally would have signs posted at the very least. Silly us for thinking like a tourist.

The trail started out innocently enough, winding through a very pretty patch of woods and down a long graveled path, eventually coming out onto a bluff overlooking a long valley. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have taken a picture, but there happened to be a very inconveniently placed power line blocking the view, so I set about trying to figure out what to do next, instead.

It seemed at first glance that we had gotten the wrong trail, after all. But on closer inspection, we found that the trail did indeed continue

on....straight down a steep gully. And when I say steep....I am not exaggerating. This thing was almost vertical. Still, like idiots, we decided to press onward, not content to let our quest for the treasure die there.

Alan went first, carefully threading his way down the gully, stopping halfway down to take my travel mug (yes, like true idiots, we still had them with us). Then it was my turn. Any of you who know me in person know that the word 'klutz' was invented for me, so this was going to prove to be a very interesting experiment in gravity, at the very least...but I did manage to struggle down, mostly sliding on my shoes, with only one minor butt-slide resulting in a red-dirt smear across my backside. All things considered, I was pleased. "Carry on," I said, smugly. And carry on, we did.

All the way down the half-mile or more gully, picking our way through tree roots, dense foliage, and rock slides, until we finally found ourselves at the bottom, having fetched up in a deeply forested patch at the river's edge. Stopping for a moment to catch our breaths and gulp some coffee to bolster ourselves, we trudged on down the path, across monumental boulders (some very slick) to finally....finally...come out within earshot of the falls.

A few more minutes had us near the base of the falls, but there was no way to get closer without climbing sheer walls or getting wet....something we had not come prepared to do...so we backed off, found a nice boulder that the top was easily accessible to, and copped a squat for the duration.

During the time we were down there, we witnessed several groups of young people...teenagers, mostly....skipping and prancing by in their swimming attire and apparently bursting at the seams with tons of energy. We'd see them go giggling past, disappear up the path, and come out by the pool at the base of the lower falls, where they'd dive in, cross to the far side, and climb up the bank to the upper pool. One daredevil sat down and slid over the edge, riding the lower falls all the way down like a big slide! It became immediately clear how the falls' dangerous reputation had been formed. Further up, it appeared that someone had at one time attached a rope to the top of the upper

falls, and it was now being put to good use, with the kids using it to swing far out over the upper pool, before letting go and dumping unceremoniously in the water below.

A small cloud came over us, dumping a few sprinkles while we finished our by now-cold coffee, and we decided it was time to start making our way back up the long, steep ravine we'd all but slid down...but as we got up, we noticed that Mother Nature had beaten us to the punch; the sky was black as pitch farther down the river...and heading our way with a vengeance.

We didn't make it to the bottom of the ravine, before the bottom fell out, and we soon found our gully turning into an outright river, funnelling mud and rocks to the bottom with a vengeance. The youngsters passed us, bolting up the hill like mountain goats, while we, already soaking wet in our heavy jeans and sneakers, struggled up the hill, getting wetter and muddier by the minute.

We lost count of how long we labored up that hill, but even though there were a few scary moments, we were lucky enough to make it to the top without any major mishaps. Both of us had to stanch the overwhelming desire to fall to our knees and kiss the ground in thanksgiving, though; it was still a hike to get back to the car.

We were very fortunate that I always carry a tarp in the truck, in case I need to tie down a load; it came in handy to cover the seats so we could plop our soaking wet carcasses down, and do our best to not freeze to death before we could get to a hot shower and dry clothes.

We laughed like goons all the way home.