This morning I was able to cross off a mini-bucket list item. I have always wanted to hike on the Adventure Hiking Trail (AHT) and today I achieved that with my good friend Mark.
We met in the parking lot by the guard shack at the entrance to the park. We took a moment to greet each other and both of us tried to decide to wear a jacket or not. Mark loves to drive and since he has a Jeep I was okay with him hauling us to our starting point. I loaded my gear in his Jeep, climbed in and we headed off.
As Mark turned onto Cold Friday Road I felt my excitement level begin to rise as I had been looking forward to this hike for a long time. The road, though paved was very bumpy and curvy. It was littered with debris. Not man-made debris but the kind only Mother Nature could provide. The Jeep crushed branches, it road over leaves and small rocks, and we seemed to feel every puddle and pothole as we descended the road.
Cold Friday Road reminds me of something you might see in a horror movie. The constant twist and turns, the fact that road is barely a one-lane road, and the fact that it seems to take you to an area barely touched by man all add to its mystery. I had been down this road a few times before but today felt different. Not only was I going to be hiking a trail I wanted to, but I was going with one of my best hiking buddies.
As we reached the bottom of the hill we were stopped by a log in the road. Mark mutter “I guess we better move that.” Out we both jumped, and I grabbed the end of the log and drug it off the road. Mark commented, “See I knew I brought the big guy for some reason.” Mark made the turn and approached a small concrete bridge that crossed a rapidly flowing creek. The bridge had no rails and like the road was pretty narrow. To add to it right before we made the curve to cross the bridge, Mark’s Jeep slid in the mud. Quick-witted, he said, “We should have taken your car.”
Within moments we reached the small pull off and began collecting our gear for the day’s adventure. Again we debated with ourselves to take jackets or not. The weather was around 50 degrees, yet there was a slight breeze, even down in this canyon. The flowing creek across the road from us adds a nippiness to the humid air. We loaded up our backpacks, grabbed our hats, cameras and made sure the Jeep was locked and off we went.
Our first obstacle was a rapidly flowing stream that was littered with large rocks. Though Mark said it I was thinking how slick those rocks might be and a spill here would ruin the day. We surveyed the area then found a suitable crossing, gently hopping from rock to rock until we crossed. The rushing water beneath my feet began taking over my soul and sent me to my calm happy place. The creek for me seemed to be like an invisible divide between the chaos of my world and this mystical woodland.
The AHT cut up the hillside like a meandering snake. It was distinguishable since the recent rains had used the trail as a natural spillway down the hill. Almost immediately our feet began to slip and slide under the mud and what few wet leaves were left that were not washed away.
We reached our first intersection of a creek which surprisingly was muddy yet, lacking in water. As we crossed I could not help but think that nature had provided us the steps, as seen here, to aid us in getting up the hill. As our boots made slushy sounds in the mud, it was not long before the twisty muddy hill began to get my heart racing. The pounding in my chest led us to stop about ½ mile up the hill where I quickly shed my hat and jacket. I took this time to catch my breath and grab some water.
Our trek took us across small streams and over logs and wet branches. We both chatted about various things, and our conversations were often interrupted by sounds of “whoa” as one of us would step in the mud halfway up our boot, or slide in a direction we had not intended.
One of us spotted a small pond a bit off the trail and we went to investigate. We thought that was put there for the local wildlife as there is normally very little water to be found. We both took the time to snap a few photos then headed back to the trail.
As we dodged the thorn bushes (I lost many battles), I began to hear the sound of a waterfall in the distance. As we drew closer the air once again chilled me like a cool breeze. In the distance, we could see the remnants of an old building, wherein only a corner of a stone wall remained. I stopped to grab a few shots of the waterfall and commented on the flowers that seemed to dot the landscape. I said, “spring is coming.”
As we checked out the rock wall we saw a group of five deer crossing our path in the distance and it reminded me we were just guests in their home. I wondered who must have lived in that home that once was there, how they got there, and how old it was. It was a reminder of nature’s beauty and destructiveness.
It was not long before we reached one of the shelters on the AHT. These are a first-come, first-serve primitive cabin used by hikers. The Adventure Hiking Trail is a 25-mile trail that loops in and out of the forest. Serious hikers use these cabins as overnight shelters. Today it was empty. We checked out the cabin and surrounding area, then saw our final destination off in the distance.
I was told of a beautiful spot maybe five minutes from the cabin, and let me say it didn’t disappoint. As we made our way down the path, it was hard for us to determine what a runoff was and what the trail was. Mark took the lead and within moments I saw him and then I was sinking in the mud. We talked about quicksand as we both imagined that was what it felt like. At the bottom of the hill, we reached a clearing and a true justification for all our hard work.
200 feet below was the swollen Ohio River. We could see over into Kentucky and from our vantage point could see where the river was supposed to end and where it had overflowed its banks into fields. The trees that stuck out of the water looked like small saplings you see when walking through the woods, but they were 100+ foot trees that were only showing about the top 10 feet due to the river levels.
I made my way toward the rock overlooking the river when I quickly got the queasy feeling in my stomach and throat. I am afraid of heights, but also could not pass up this view. Mark and I also comment that the views reminded us of the mountains of North Carolina. The way the trees were growing out the cliff rocks and over the edge, it was majestic.
Mark asked for me to go stand close to the edge so he could take a picture of me. He said, “hey Marcie said she would split the money with me.” I laughed and gingerly made my way out to the furthest most point on the cliff. I looked down, got the willies and put the camera to my face. I remember asking multiple times “are you done yet?” He laughed and said yea you can step back.
I found another interesting tree a few feet away from where we were and told Mark to come to check it out. I tried to get a good angle to shoot it but was having difficulty. Mark made his way around and down closer to the tree and edge of another cliff. I tried the same and soon found myself slipping and sliding toward imminent death. That was exaggerating, but when only a few feet from a 200-foot drop and 3 small trees between you, well let’s say my heart was racing.
Our trip back was mostly downhill and provided its challenges with the wet leaves, mud, and slippery tree roots. Mark and I chatted, got to know each other a bit better and marveled about our trek today. This is something I will do again, and soon.
As we arrived back and drove back up Cold Friday Road, I silently thank God for allowing me to come here, giving me the ability to hike, allowing me to hang out with Mark, and most importantly keeping me from sliding off that cliff. I was in awe of the beauty and as we saw more deer crossing our path. I stopped to shoot them and our day was done.
Until next time,
Tim
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