I was recently looking for hiking spots and came across a place called Berea Creek Falls. Digging in a little further I came across a photo of the old beautiful stone archways and was immediately drawn in. Do it for the lore, right? It turns out they’re shockingly easy to find. It’s merely 5 minutes from a nearby Taco Bell – a true hallmark of accessibility.
After a bit of googling we threw on hiking clothes, tennis shoes, and tossed backup slides in a backpack.
I didn’t plan this particularly well but I knew there was a trailhead nearby. As we parked there it was 50 feet from a viewing platform so I walked down to scope things out – the scenery paid off immediately. If there’s a city equivalent for rustic, this was it. Below us a gorge about a hundred feet deep opened up a creek full of large, smooth rocks and perforated by boulders the size of Smart cars. Looking upstream, two levels of waterfalls spilled over smooth rock and in the back was that old stone bridge. This was gonna be fun.
Absent a plan, we walked the rim of the gorge downstream a bit and picked up a trail. After a couple minutes on the trail we came across a clearing in the brush that allowed us to peer over the edge. It was a pretty sheer rock face…
This was the first time the kids collectively decided this was a little crazy.
We pushed on, eventually coming to a series of ledges where we could work our way down. About two thirds of the way into the valley we came to a miniature cliff with a drop of about eight feet. It was immediately obvious they doubted we’d be able to keep going. I pointed past the rock and noted how once we get down from here we’re home free. “Guys, the creek is right there”.
This was the second time the kids decided this was a little crazy.
The bigger kids found some footholds, shimmied their way down, and I followed. I braced the younger ones for a short jump down and off we went. As we made it to the creek, the kids went off scrambling in different directions. I pointed them upstream and helped Paige and Owen their footing a few times. It was tricky work staying dry but we slowly made our way.
Though everyone was always within sight, they really were scrambling all over. I kept hanging back and watching them go for it. It was fun to see them off solving problems on their own. I bright up the rear with Paige whose biggest concern was keeping her Vans clean.
Eventually we caught up with the pack but not because they were tired but because they found themselves surrounded by water. I told everyone it was time to break out their slides because it was time to get wet. We piled all the shoes on a boulder, left them to dry in the sun, and we pushed on. Everyone immediately commented on how cold the water was. Editors note: it wasn’t cold.
Nonetheless, this was the third time the kids decided this was a little crazy.
No longer being constrained by fear of getting wet, they took off again. We found lots of slippery spots, minnows, and pools where the water had worn holes in the bedrock. They explored.
I caught up with them again as they found a huge boulder at the base of the first waterfall pool. Everyone was excited but starting to think about how challenging it would be to get back. As we took a break to catch our collective breath I looked around and scoped out our next move. I began to wonder how that group of college kids got to that great spot up next to the falls… Looking past them, I also wondered about the people walking their dog. Now dripping with sweat, I laughed to myself as I thought about how we had very clearly (but unknowingly) taken The Hard Way™️.
As it turns out, someone drove a railroad spike into the bedrock right next to the falls and hung a rope from it. “Ok come on, we’re going up and over the falls”
This was the fourth time the kids decided this was a little crazy.
So up we went. We stopped at the top and admired our progress. Looking back down the gorge it really felt like a small accomplishment. Now even the kids noticed the dog family walking a tidy little path up to the rim of the gorge. We all laughed about the oversight. Surprisingly, every one of them agreed it was better that we didn’t know – we just did something cool and it was infinitely better than walking that path. We took some time for selfies, a discussion on the merits of graffiti, a critique of the dick that was carved into the rock, and to admire a lone duck.
I told them we’d take the path back to the car and I’d run back down for the shoes.
On the way, I introduced them to the types of fun. They settled on type 1.5. You only get so many wins like that in patenting. I’ll take it.