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Nov. 11th, 2001 11:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
botiasReading Material: Real Lives: Eleven Teenagers Who Don't Go To School Grace Llewellyn ed.
We hiked to the top of Wakeenah Falls. Wakeenah was apparently the local natives' name for the falls and means beautiful. *insert here: musings on the popularity of using native place names for places they are clearly no longer in possession of* There were many cars in the parking lot at the base of the falls, but we found that pretty much no one ventured up the trail. There was a nasty mud slick going straight up the bank of the creek that was clearly for use by persons who would most likely be caned hourly in Singapore. It was all very lovely and well worth the effort, which in any case was fueled by a bags of Fritos, Cheetos and Peanut M&Ms washed down with orange juice and chocolate milk. Clearly at one time in the distant past the area was covered by a big batch of steaming lava (I'm keeping Alan from the computer, he's been hogging it for days *tee hee*) There was a particular hunk of volcanic rock about three stories high that made me think of a dragon's back made out of stone, but now that I look back at pictures of it I'm not sure what I was thinking.
This was our first waterfall hike since our distressing experience in Colorado. We had ourselves all wiggly about hiking the Boulder Falls trail only to find that the trail was only about 50 feet long, and ended in an unassuming plume of water issuing from an unexciting crevice in a boring cliff. Just in case disappointment should leave a body itching to leave the trail in search of other amusements, there were photocopied signs about every ten feet suggesting that one not do so and offering newpaper articles detailing the adventures of various people who tumbled down the slope into the creek and saved their parents a year or two of college tuition.
We hiked to the top of Wakeenah Falls. Wakeenah was apparently the local natives' name for the falls and means beautiful. *insert here: musings on the popularity of using native place names for places they are clearly no longer in possession of* There were many cars in the parking lot at the base of the falls, but we found that pretty much no one ventured up the trail. There was a nasty mud slick going straight up the bank of the creek that was clearly for use by persons who would most likely be caned hourly in Singapore. It was all very lovely and well worth the effort, which in any case was fueled by a bags of Fritos, Cheetos and Peanut M&Ms washed down with orange juice and chocolate milk. Clearly at one time in the distant past the area was covered by a big batch of steaming lava (I'm keeping Alan from the computer, he's been hogging it for days *tee hee*) There was a particular hunk of volcanic rock about three stories high that made me think of a dragon's back made out of stone, but now that I look back at pictures of it I'm not sure what I was thinking.
This was our first waterfall hike since our distressing experience in Colorado. We had ourselves all wiggly about hiking the Boulder Falls trail only to find that the trail was only about 50 feet long, and ended in an unassuming plume of water issuing from an unexciting crevice in a boring cliff. Just in case disappointment should leave a body itching to leave the trail in search of other amusements, there were photocopied signs about every ten feet suggesting that one not do so and offering newpaper articles detailing the adventures of various people who tumbled down the slope into the creek and saved their parents a year or two of college tuition.
