Hike 55 Amended

Dear Friends, I come to you remorseful and penitent. Intentionally, and for my own means, I distorted reality and further skewed the digital diorama in which I present my hikes. What I previously labeled as Hike 55 was, in fact, little more than a walk on the beach. I did hike that day, though I had no intention of presenting photos. I decided, against my better judgement, to lump together Drift Creek Falls and Dessert, believing that you, my Reader, would be none the wiser.

I now lay before you prostrate, hoping to amend my wrongdoing. We all stand on this ever shifting planet-like-quicksand searching for solid ground. To add yet another layer of uncertainty only quickens the pull of the pit. You have no way of knowing whether the following account is true, but I hope you find in my confession integrity, and believe that I bring to you my understanding of events as they transpired.

I hold no claim on the forest or the trails, and yet I feel invaded when the population of a given hike exceeds a certain level. I chose Drift Creek Falls only because it was near, but recoiled at the sight of a full parking lot. Still, I have in mind a goal and must continue to move forward, lest I slip. With a certain reluctance, I rode the wave of people down the path.

Lines of people, lines of leaves.

Where people go, structures follow. The regular pattern of trees and rocks was soon interrupted by anomalous architecture. Before me stretched a suspension bridge made to bear the burden of heavy traffic.

Shortly following this disconnecting connecter I reached the falls. I’ll forgo the usual obligatory photo of tumbling water. The crowds quickly drove me away, and I stumbled upon a small reptile as I returned. He looked at me, I looked at him. He wore a mournful expression. The lizard said nothing, just gave me a glance. Just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance.

Unless.

I was glad to have hiked, but relieved to escape the growing mob. If nothing else, I delayed the inevitable rolling.