Glen Falls, NC

I took my chances on Highway 106 this morning for the reward of another falls hike. I tiptoed past a police car parked alongside the road at about 6:30 a.m. and thought I might get a talking to for walking where there really isn’t a safe shoulder, but I was generally ignored…whew. Once I reached the dirt road that led to Glen Falls, I walked another mile downhill thinking all the while that on the way out I’d have to come back uphill. Such is the fate of a falls hiker I suppose.

After passing a scenic overlook of the North Carolina mountains, the first drop of Glen Falls could be heard in the distance. This drop is 70 feet and was reached by crossing over downed trees, ducking under low branches, and high stepping around the roots protruding high up from the ground. Several zigzag switchbacks resulted in the breathtaking view of the second drop at 60 feet. I snaked my way out on the rocks and plunked myself down to enjoy a little water and some breakfast (a Golden Delicious and some Chex Mix).

The third fall of about 15 feet should have been about 15 minutes down the winding trail. Yes, “should have been.” Each section of the winding trail had the option for a steep and more speedy dissent, but I quickly acknowledged that this dissent would likely be made on my rear end so I opted for the longer and only slightly more stable hiking path. At one point I came to a blaze for those coming from the other direction indicating that Glen Falls was that-a-way. But what if I wanted that third fall? Right or left? You can see where this is heading, right? My logic was that I’d certainly not gone downhill enough since the second drop to be at the third drop yet so I opted for left. Yep…WRONG.

The trail became quite a bit steeper, narrower, darker, and definitely less traveled. Again the “what goes down must come up” alarm was ringing in my head. And where were all the animals? I didn’t even get one mosquito bite and I had no bug repellant on. Should I be clapping to scare off the bears? Are there even bears around here? Well, just in case I let out a loud burp and a few shouts. I don’t think the smell was mine though. I thought about how anyone would find me if I hurt my knee. I had my camera, though, so I could take pictures of the blood if I had to.

I finally had to set a time for retreat so that I could be back to the lodge in time for whatever was planned for the day. At 8:15 I arrived at what was a very disappointing spill (as opposed to a fall) that was obviously not the third drop of Glen Falls. Time to face the uphill battle.

For a reason that entirely escapes me, the tree roots covering the path constantly reached up and grabbed the toe of my right shoe. And I can’t tell you how many times those tree branches combed through my hair; you know, the ones I so easily avoided on the way down. And forget gingerly stepping over the fallen trees, by this time I full on sat my butt down on the thick, sticky trunks and dragged my legs over the top of them.

Forty-five minutes later I emerged unscathed but quite sticky and probably very smelly. The dirt kicked up from the trail covered my legs up to my knees and my pretty Susan G. Komen-pink clothes were drenched with sweat. The old bird watcher man in the parking lot seemed a bit nervous when I appeared. The three mile walk home was nice enough and that police car was still parked in the lot. Huh, three hours? There wasn’t that much traffic.

Around 2:00 (and at 8:30 that night) that police car was still parked in the same spot I saw it at 6:30 that morning. I approached carefully only to discover Recessi-Annie sitting in the driver’s seat. Psyche!