Hidden Sites, Continued Culture, and Old Earthworks

Our second day in New Orleans started with picking up Jenna from the Greyhound Station and rain. Lots of rain. We picked a breakfast spot that wasn’t too far from the French Quarter, called Ruby Slipper. It was okay, which for the three foodies with me meant bad. The other unfortunate part of breakfast was getting a full stomach and then rushing off to our first stop: jazz yoga at the Jazz National Historic Park.

I definitely had thought this would be an easygoing, mostly empty class, but arriving only a minute or so late we found it was pretty full for a rainy morning in the middle of the French Quarter. We were full, wearing denim, but ready and willing. For the most part. Jazz yoga was a great concept because it basically just meant yoga with live piano accompaniment. After yoga, we got our stamps and headed to the nearby market.

This market was a tourism mecca, full of souvenirs and overpriced accessories, so even though it was fun to browse – it was not really my style. There was nothing any of us really needed or wanted, so we walked out into the rain to get to the actual stores along the street. We peeked in a vampire fashion boutique, a candy shop offering free samples of pralines, and finally arrived at the other site: Jean Lafitte National Historic Park.

This visitor center was in the French Quarter so gave us a lot of information about the culture, the food, and how New Orleans was founded. Unless you were looking, you might completely miss these two NPS sites hidden in the corners of NOLA!

On our way back the the car, my brother (literally) sniffed out some crawfish, the only location that had it since the season wouldn’t start for another two weeks. I’m not a big fish fan, but we stopped so my three fellow travelers could tackle 1.5 pounds of fresh crawfish. And if you think that ruined my appetite, you’re wrong, because after lunch I made them drive out of the main city area for my favorite – local homemade ice cream! As an aside, we stopped near the St Louis Cemetery No.1 which is famous for it’s above-ground graves, but we willing to shell out for an actual tour. Maybe one day!

We stopped at the Creole Creamery, where I got a scoop of Black & Gold Crunch. This was a fancier “cookies and cream” flavor and was so good! This shop was cool because you could get mini scoops and a little “sampler” style ice cream dish of different flavors. Luckily, everyone ended up glad I dragged them out there and it was conveniently near a market where we could pick up some pregaming supplies for our Bourbon night out! (My Bourbon St night out is detailed here: Bourbon Street Fun.)

The next morning we had one final National Park site to grab on our way out of Louisiana. Funnily enough, on the way to this site, we actually drove through Mississippi to get more of a direct route (because of the boot shape of LA). For some reason, I had no idea we would even be entering Mississippi let alone in it long enough to look up some National Park sites. There was one, Vicksburg, that was only ten minutes out of the way. We hadn’t planned on it, but we sure weren’t going to say no to starting a new NPS region! The Vicksburg National Military Park had the normal “decorative” canons and a drive heading to an old cemetery – and I’ve mentioned how much I’m just not into battles and war history. Sorry, Dad.

After four-ish hours in Mississippi we were back in Louisiana and arrived at a wet Poverty Point National Monument. This site was a state park also, but more importantly, my first UNESCO World Heritage Site. So the final site for my Southwest National Park region journey was actually important in many different ways! This area of land is a protected prehistoric earthwork, with a system of hills and ridges. My guess was some kind of irragation (mainly because it was currently so soaked while touring it), but the truth is they don’t really know why the mounds were built. Historians guess a settlement or some kind of religious gathering spot.

My brother and Gabby stayed in the warmth of the car while Jenna and I climbed up the main mound. The weather was pretty gloomy but it was a beautiful bit of land. And at the top we talked about how with this we had gathered all of the Southwest region stamps in our National Parks Passport. Wow! Then we were frozen, so we hurried down the hill, back to the car and got on the road to good ol’ Texas.

Frenchman Street vs Bourbon Street (NOLA)

I was in New Orleans for two nights – which meant two nights to immerse myself in the nightlife – which is obviously huge in NOLA. During my research on what to do while in the city, I couldn’t find what so much as where. They listed a few areas, French Quarter, Jackson Square, etc, and on this list I put down Frenchmen Street. Originally, we’d passed it in the day and couldn’t figure out why it was more special than any other street. Luckily, as we were in a Lyft coming away from dinner, we mentioned it and our driver said Frenchmen Street was something to do at night.

So we canceled our first night “easygoing” Bourbon plans, and headed to Frenchmen, not sure what to expect. Just driving in, I could see it was much smaller, but also more of my vibe (coming from someone who’d only briefly walked Bourbon, i.e. not an expert). We found parking on the street after only a little bit of effort, so that should tell you that it really wasn’t too crowded. String lights had caught our eye on the drive in, so we beelined to that big open area.

It was a little crafter and artist’s market! The string lights arched across an entrance on the street into a open pavilion of probably thirty booths set up. There was a sign at the back that said “Palace Market” in cool graffiti, so I guess that’s what we had stumbled upon. There were a lot of really cool prints (I bought two different ones) and a lot of handmade jewelry. I must’ve looked at every ring in the place twice, because I liked it all and the prices were really good.

By the time we finished looking at every booth and found ourselves back out on the street, a live jazz band was trailing from one end to the other. I kid you not! Then we realized there was live jazz in every bar on the street! This area was definitely for the starving artists, hipsters (I hate to say it), and people looking for some of the original culture of NOLA. It was so cool! Even though it was all jazz, every band was different, made up of unique instruments and singers. Male and female, lots of brass, more piano – they had whatever flavor you were looking for just next door!

But obviously, in New Orleans, you can’t really experience this city unless you hit up Bourbon Street. Saturday night, we made plans to do Bourbon right. Jenna had come into town to join my brother and Gabby and me, and with a bottle of rum and a stop at the Winn Dixie for sour mix, we were ready to pregame. Oh, and we also took a party nap just to fully prepare ourselves.

My brother had put together a “pub crawl” for us that started at one end and ended close to our Airbnb. He showed us Carousel Bar, which actually rotated and then stopped by the 21st Amendment, which was the classy part of Bourbon. They were known for their sauzerac (it was okay) and a live quartet was setting up just as we nabbed a front row table. Next was an absinthe bar, which was rough, I’ll be honest. You think you want fire and green drinks, but even very buzzed I could not finish it.

So buzzed though, that I was easily talked into the bull ride across the street. This bar was not on the tour, but we saw the bull and decided we were done being “classy” on Bourbon. Did I ride the bull? Yes, of course. From there we quickly moved through one (possibly two) “shot bars” which had fruity concoctions in test tubes and really cool lighting. My brother and I danced while making Gabby and Jenna take the shots from the trounced up women passing them out. We were sticking with a one drink per bar policy, sharing it if we needed help to finish it. This was our plan to make it through the crawl, but starting pretty drunk was not our brightest move.

We passed through Pat O’Brien’s, a cute bar with an outdoor space where we’d gotten a hurricane the night before. The Swamp was an alright bar, made better by the fact that it’s the only free balcony on Bourbon. We got up there and stared down at the people below, which normally would’ve been amazing – but we quickly got jealous of everyone down there seemingly having a better time than us. I know this is a lot of alcohol talk – but this is how you do Bourbon Street, at least from what I’ve heard.

We skipped ahead one bar, because I spotted “the original hand grenade” under the Tropical Isle Bourbon sign, the drink which I’d been calling the “green drink” and knowing it was a must. Here all four of us got one. I am honestly not sure why because not one of needed another drink – but being newbies Jenna and I were obligated. Side note: I threw my little toy grenade into a basket near the ceiling and gave myself a round of applause. Gabby had given me three chances, I’d cheated by taking four, so I bought us shots anyway. Seriously, we just kept drinking. Which was perfect, because the Cats Meow, famous for karaoke, was our next stop.

I was ready for some singing and attention from a crowd, y’all. I’m outgoing but a little shy at first, but the drinks had given me the right to flaunt my ego. My brother signed me up, and somewhere around the time for my name to be called, Jenna was joining, we’d picked ABBA’s Dancing Queen, and the four of us had had two rounds of jello shots. The rest is a bit of a blur – mostly me trying to figure out if my voice sounded good, if I was dancing too much, and if the audience was having a good time. Does this mean I’m allowed to cross “Become a pop star” off my bucket list?

The final stop, Blacksmith’s, was skipped. (Luckily, on my previous visit to NOLA which consisted of less than three hours I’d actually had a drink from there.) I don’t know how this decision was made, but I know Gabby was ready for bed and left the remaining three of us to find our way to Cafe Du Monde. Everyone has to have those world famous beignets whenever you’re in town. Everyone should also make sure they have cash, otherwise you will scramble last minute, make friends with the table next to you and Venmo them for a ten-dollar bill. Still, worth it.

So, the original question: Frenchmen Street or Bourbon Street? Both! They are just so different and have so many different experiences to offer. I’m not much for the nightlife anymore, but as you can tell from this long, long blogpost, I really went for it! New Orleans is one of those places that is about the bars, the drinks, experiencing the people and the night.

Architecture, Alcohol, and Adventures in Voodoo

Besides having some National Park sites in the area, New Orleans has been on my travel wish list for two reasons: I’ve been in the city twice for only a couple of hours (so all I’ve done is Cafe Du Monde) and it’s where my brother’s fiance, Gabby, is from! I’ve wanted my brother and her to show me around town for some time, and finally we put it on the books. They’re some of NOLA’s biggest fans, so I knew they’d be perfect travel companions.

My brother was set on leaving Dallas around 3AM and getting into New Orleans by noon, his so-called perfect travel time, so that’s what we did. I was able to take a bit of a nap after work so I was prepared for the early, early morning start. By the time the sun came up, I took over driving, and was enjoying Louisiana. The beautiful trees always surprise me for some reason.

We got in a bit before noon, and found our Airbnb was just shy of Esplanade Avenue, meaning our first drive to check out the colorful houses was perfect. Along this neighborhood drive, we also spotted Edgar Degas’s house! The famous painter once lived as neighbors to our current Airbnb. I was glad we’d picked such a cool area, especially after checking out our temporary home’s decor. They were clearly emphasizing the New Orleans wild and fun time.

Speaking of, the first item of the itinerary was at a craft rum distillery, Old New Orleans. None of the three of us had been to a craft distillery tour before, so we were excited. They had two cocktails available when we got there as they took us on the tour. It was so tasty and we were worried we wouldn’t get our money’s worth, so we asked for refills (even though no one else did). Luckily, they kept filling us up as we learned more about how rum is made. It was pretty cool! This distillery in particular is also the oldest rum distillery in all of the US.

At the end of the tour, we were surprised to find they had shots of all their rums lined up for us. Uh oh. I don’t know why we didn’t realize they’d have samples of all their flavored rums at the end. We were pretty tipsy already, but we weren’t going to turn down delicious finely crafted rum. I’d say we definitely got our money’s worth! We even grabbed a bottle of their Cajun Spice Rum for our pregame planned for the following night.

Now that we were nice and buzzed, it was time to head off to explore some of New Orleans. We stopped by the famous “Umbrella Girl” on our way to the French Quarter. This graffiti is one from Banksy’s famous New Orleans series, originally twelve all around the city to make a statement on Hurricane Katrina. It was really cool, and preserved with a plastic shield so no one would try and destroy (or “add” to) it. Then we walked through town, to enjoy more architecture.

The French style of all the old historic houses was so awesome. Lots of trellises and working shutters and colors an balconies and columns. It was almost like being in a completely different country at some points. I love when every house is different and unique – and New Orleans is most certainly that! It was after enjoying all the beauty that we found ourselves on the hunt for voodoo. I originally knew I’d want to look for “something voodoo” because it was such a big part of the culture but I had no idea exactly how many voodoo stops we would find.

There were several shops all over! Anything that had voodoo, witch, or occult in the title, we stepped into to explore. I discovered potions, and prick dolls, and satanic idols. Sachets of herbs for good luck or “get out of jail” luck. It was so fun to just inspect all the wild stuff they had in their shops. I’m not sure if they were over the top for tourists or if they were pretty typical for a voodoo shop, but there was a lot of crazy and interesting stuff. Honestly some of it a little scary (haha).

As we were making our way from the French Quarter to the Bourbon Street area, we stopped to watch a street performance in Jackson Square that was pretty entertaining. That particular area reminded me a lot of something similar to New York City. More walking got us to dinner for the night, a fancy place called Pêche. So fancy in fact that when we ordered a few side plates to try things and when we asked for big plates so we could share, we definitely got a look. We were still feeling great from the day’s activities so we didn’t give a fuck; we also stuck to all waters. It was all really good! Recommending this “family style” tip for all broke people going to fancy restaurants if you can stand the judgement from your waiter.

Checking Out the Local Psychics (at a Dallas Fair)

When my friend Giselle asked me to check out the Dallas Psychic Fair with her, it was never a question of if I’d go but when I’d go. Just recently, I was finally able to make it. With a quick google search to checkout their website (and grab a coupon to the fair), all I really knew was their tagline: Spiritual growth through mind, body and soul connections. That didn’t give me a lot to go on, but since I’m fascinated by any kind of open-minded event or personal growth activity, I went anyway.

We entered into a large ballroom setup with different tables of handmade items and chairs circumventing the room. These chairs were set up with one-on-one sessions for psychic readings. After checking in, Giselle asked the woman who took our money how to go about choosing between them all. The woman told us to take our time walking around the room and just go with our gut to see which one was “pulling” us to them. I hadn’t come for a psychic reading (since I actually have one planned with the Jefferson psychic) but I was digging this fair already.

I mostly wanted to look at all the handmade jewelry, the mass amount of crystals, and the essential oil-based skin care. These assorted booths were all over and everyone was really friendly. Honestly, everyone was above and beyond nice about both Giselle and my questions. We didn’t know what orgonite, or lunar water, or channeled massages were. Or where the chakras were and what they meant. Or how to spell something. Or how to use a smudge stick. We asked a lot of questions. A lot of questions.

Across the room, we saw a food stand and went over to inspect. Everything looked very healthy, with fresh salads, vegan, gluten-free, and other specially baked goods. We decided to split a chocolate chip almond cookie, which was vegan and low carb. I’m not going to lie, it was very dry and bland. Haha! I’ve done my fair share of “healthy” baking and know it’s hard – that’s why I don’t bake as much now. But having a guilt-free cookie isn’t a bad way to spend a couple of bucks.

We lapped the outer rim of the room once again, and this time Giselle spotted her reader. He was an older fellow, cherub-cheeked, and looked like he’d know how to knit you a sweater. His name was Michael Runningbear. Giselle checked his availability (he had an opening in ten minutes) and decided she was going to go ahead and do it. Why not? She had a couple of questions she could ask and hell, we were at a psychic fair for some reason, right?

I sat awkwardly at the empty table next to Giselle as she got her reading, for anyone wondering. Having to half-listen to the irritable psychic who had graciously let me sit, but then wanted to mutter under her breath about how she most likely wouldn’t be back next month. Talk about bad energy. Giselle was five feet away and in a completely different world. Runningbear was reading her vibe and letting her draw the Tarot cards to give insight to her future. She came away a little awed. (Just like my mom if you’ll remember. Are psychics really real? I’ve got two people close to me who are now believers.)

Some homemade soaps from Moonlights Apothecary had caught my eye just before the reading, so once Giselle (who was anew woman) was finished, we checked out that booth. The owner, Jordyn, let us know what each one was made with and the intention behind it. She had spelled its energy on a certain focus. I bought two soaps, one because it smelled so freaking amazing and one because it smelled great and was on sale. Please don’t read anything into the “meaning” behind my purchase. Ha.

Overall, it was a great experience! We learned a lot, opened up our minds, made plans to work on ourselves (Giselle with her path in life, me with my skin care). The world will never cease to delight and inspire me. I’ll never possibly explore every unique and interesting facet.

Change of Plans, What to Do in a Small Town

With only two National Park sites left in Arkansas to visit, and those being a battlefield and a fort, we planned to enjoy our drive back home by peppering in some nature. The hikes had been so awesome the day before, it was only fate that rain would balance out our trip and steal the opportunity to visit Devil’s Den State Park. But also because of this rain, we got incredible fog at our first stop of the day.

We got to Pea Ridge National Military Park first thing on the morning of our last day, and it was chilly, quiet, and foggy. I browsed the visitor center to refresh my civil war history, but mostly I just stared out at the big (battle)field, which with the current weather conditions made it easy to imagine how terrible a battle would be and how it must’ve felt to not have any kind of comforts of home nearby. Y’all probably know by now, I’m not much for battle sites, forts, etc., but this one was pretty cool.

It was time to head south down the edge of Arkansas, but Jenna and I both knew the weather wasn’t going to clear up. The closer we got, the more cloudy the sky got. Yet another day of rain on my trips; another day of hiking stolen. So it was time to scramble and I knew Fayetteville wasn’t too far and I also knew one of my friends who was a Razorback would have some last minute suggestions. My friend Megan came in clutch with some helpful tips that led us directly to the downtown square.

We had literally come one day past the last farmer’s market of the year, but not too far was a bookshop called Dickson Street Book Shop. I love small independent bookstores so I was pretty excited before we even parked. After arriving, I realized this was no “small” bookstore – it’s deceptively massive! Most of it was cramped aisles full of books (my favorite). Megan definitely wasn’t lying when she said, “Bring bread crumbs to find your way back out – it’s a never ending labyrinth.”

After some quality book browsing, Jenna and I had a bit of a sweet tooth, so we headed over to Hurt’s Donuts. That place was insane! Unpopular opinion: I hadn’t been that impressed with VooDoo Donuts. But Hurt’s Donuts had so many more unique flavors, amazing colorful decorations – it was hard to not want to leave with more than one! I got a blueberry cake donut (my go-to) and then decided to grab a chocolate peanut butter one for later down the road. The blueberry honestly wasn’t as good as the every day small shop ones – but the “Reese’s” inspired one was phenomenal. It was truly decadent but I needed it after hours on the road with no food stops in sight.

Kissing Fayetteville goodbye (with a promise to be back to explore not only Devil’s Den but more of the town when it’s not a Sunday), we headed on to Fort Smith. Here we were looking for our last Arkansas National Park site. We expected a typical fort, with some battle ruins or history on war, but that wasn’t the case. Fort Smith is classified as a National Historic Site, and their claim to fame is more about their criminal system – jury, judge, and imprisonment. (They still had a clearing where the old fort used to be, but the main attraction was definitely the big courthouse.)

The big visitor center had two different styles of jails to tour and a mock courtroom. It was fun to walk around a true model set up; one where you could actually lie on the prisoner cots or sit in the audience of the jury. Outside, we checked out the gallows, which wasn’t too interesting only because they’re the gallows you’ve seen in almost every Western movie. To my delight, a little theater town was set up right near this, with a saloon and a guy dressed as a cowboy. Not too far from that, a cute trolley was idling. Definitely worth the stop, but in that small town quaint way.

It was getting late in the day and all that was left was to finish out our drive through Arkansas by taking the scenic route through the Ozarks, winding our way around the Boston Mountains. It was so, so beautiful. Gloomy sure, but the trees were colorful enough that it was no bland drive. Even though I’ve checked off those National Park sites, Arkansas will definitely be seeing me again soon!

We wanted one final fun stop on the drive back home, so when we saw our route was taking us through Paris, Texas, we decided to do a quick google for anything good. Believe it or not, they have an Eiffel Tower! Well, with a cowboy stop. I sure do love weird road trip stops.

To the Edge and Back, Whitaker Point

While talking to the Buffalo National River park ranger, she let us know that if we went to hike at Lost Valley (which we did), not too far away was Whitaker Point. Even though this was outside of the Park, it was apparently the “most photographed spot of Arkansas” and worth it to check out. That recommendation was good enough for Jenna and me, so we were headed off down a looping, ascending six miles of dirt road.

We didn’t really know anything about this hike, neither the elevation nor the distance. The sun was due to set in two hours and this seemed like enough time to at least try to attempt the hike. (Also, let me be clear these are all no-nos when going hiking. The main reason we proceeded was because there were a ton of people hiking with us. People in jeans, people who looked like they’d never hiked, people to the front and back of us. My one complaint with Arkansas is how many people there are out on the trails- haha!)

The way to the point was a lot of downhill terrain, so Jenna and I were both preparing for pain coming back up and out. Passing people headed out who were red in the face and stopping for breaks had us both a little weary. But what are we going to not do it? No. We wanted to reach “the most photographed area of Arkansas” even if it meant a serious workout. After enjoying our time in nature, taking a few preliminary pictures along the trail, we reached Whitaker Point.

It was a big cliff edge that opened up to big rolling hills of Arkansas where you could see only trees for forever. It was really impressively beautiful. But also crowded. About forty feet ahead of this point on the trail is a little opening in the treeline where you can get a pretty cool shot of the ledge, so Jenna and I took turns taking each other’s pictures. But also kind of battling back the crowd of people hanging around in the trees.

I want people to go out and hike. I want people to enjoy nature and see what this beautiful world has to offer. But these Arkansasians are out of control. They’re out in hoards. And I’ve learned from my time in the state that I’m not a fan of sharing a trail with more than a few people. If I’m constantly in eyesight of someone (other than a hiking buddy), I’m one unhappy hiker. I don’t know if it was because the sun was out after a cold front, because it was a Saturday, or this was the typical, but I was ready to go back to having the trail all to myself.

On our way back, Jenna and I decided we would try and just plow through it. We’d take breaks if needed, but we didn’t want to drag out our misery. This speed hiking back uphill business has kind of become a strong point. We just focus, grit down, and go. It had taken us about an hour and half to get to the point, and we estimated it would take us just as long to get back out, trading picture time for ascent time. But with our sheer force of will, we made it out in half that time, legs and lungs burning.

We had a nice middle-of-nowhere drive (with gas station snacks) back to civilization. Or as close as Bentonville gets to that moniker. After showers and meeting up with our hosts, my friend Margaret and her husband, Matt, it was time for dinner. We went for Mexican at one of their favorite local spots. Afterward, I was bugging them for ice cream even though the temperature was dropping to the forties, so they took me to Sweet Dream Creamery. This cute little shop was a food truck located in the downtown square area, right across from the newly opened ice skating rink. We enjoyed the lights and then decided it was time for us old ladies (and man) to head home. I can’t wait to head back and focus more attention on Bentonville because it seemed like a neat little town!

Chasing Fall(s) in Arkansas

I wanted to strategically plan my trip to finish up the Arkansas National Park sites in fall so I could enjoy all the beautiful colors. I’d been to the area earlier this year for a wedding, and my drive to the northwest corner of the state was so beautiful, I was excited to head back with some yellows and reds added. One of my best friends, Margaret, lives in Bentonville, so after work on Friday me and my friend Jenna headed that way. Side note: I will never head out of town between 4PM and 7PM again. Dallas traffic is pretty dang awful.

After arriving late enough that there wasn’t much to do, we woke up early the next day to enjoy the sunshine in the cooler weather. We started with a two hour drive further east into Arkansas, which I wasn’t at all upset about. The state is truly beautiful, with its rolling hills and plentiful trees. Arriving at the Buffalo National River visitor center, we chatted with the ranger for a good half hour trying to figure out where to head for the day. We’d done minimal research and I was excited to get the insider perspective on the hot spots.

In fact, I had only looked up one major lookout to see the river (which the site was named after obviously), but the ranger recommended a closer river lookout that would save us almost two hours of driving round trip. As a planner, I’m really trying to figure out how to plan future National Park trips. There’s always so much to do that we never have enough time, but the rangers aren’t always available for me to ask an hour’s worth of questions over the phone long distance. I’ve learned the best approach is to research using a full map of every trail (and driving distance between!), look up any pictures you can find (which gets hard), and then start your convo with, “What do you recommend?”

So we headed to the nearby River Overlook Trail to checkout “America’s First National River” and see the land. It was an easy twenty minute hike through a field with some surrounding woods. We passed the Sod Collier homestead on the way, a few buildings that were preserved by the Park. The crunching of leaves under my feet was so nice – I was glad to be hiking in a new season! Getting to the overlook, I was impressed by the view of the river, but also glad I hadn’t driven somewhere else when this view was great. Plus, we saw the river – worth it! I hope to head back in summer to enjoy some kayaking or other river sports.

We headed to the west area of the park where the most popular hikes were found. First, it was time to take on the Lost Valley section. This turned out to be such a busy trail! I don’t mind seeing people every now and then on a trail, but I guess I’m a bit of a selfish hiker. Having to pass people, or not feel rushed when trying to get a good picture, or wait on switchbacks so everyone could proceed safely – it was kind of terrible. We did our best to be on our own, but people were out in hoards. I guess Arkansasians love their outdoors!

On this trail, we first ran into an off shot of the Eden Falls which had a little cave you could hike through. After a couple of pictures, I slid and slid and slid. Even with my hiking boots on, the moss on the side of the rock was so slippery, once I started – I didn’t stop until I was in a puddle of water at the bottom. It was cold, but mostly I was just embarrassed and glad nothing hurt. People saw me (because of how busy the trail was) so I hurriedly ushered Jenna and me along through the cave to escape their concern. Then just as we were able to laugh about it, going down a hill of roots and steps – I fell again.

Seriously, I have never fallen on a hike – and here I’d fallen twice! In the span of fifteen minutes, on the busiest trail I’ve hiked to date, I embarrassed myself by falling probably about six feet each time. An older gentleman helped me up from my second tumble and this one had hurt a bit more (my legs are still bruised up) but I awkwardly laughed and rushed forward to the falls.

The falls weren’t too impressive, though they were nice minus the loud surrounding chatter from so many people on the trail. The trail looped back through the trees and it seemed most people decided to go back the way they’d come, so finally we got the trail to ourselves. And we found fall. The trees were so beautiful with the golden hues. Ah, peace and quiet – and flat ground.