After what seemed like a thousand years of tiny, uninspiring walks, I finally convinced one of the kids to take me for a proper hike. Somehow, Lilly imposed rules on me. "It can't be too far. It can't be too hard. It has to be a good trail. You have to have your poles. If your hip starts hurting, we turn around." <sigh> Fine.

I might be old and broken, but I'm crafty. I just happened to have a little hike that fit all these constraints all prepped for an opportunity like this. Well, maybe not all the rules. There was a trail, but it wasn't really a "good" trail. It's the sort of trail that is easily lost, most often followed by animals, and occasionally noticed by desperate limpers like me.

And it was perfect for dogs with cabin fever who got so excited they forgot how to stop.

So... we followed the trail into the forest. The trees were draped in thick moss and the ground was covered with ferns. We could hear the creek off to our left, but resisted the urge to head straight to it. The trail looked like it would get us there eventually. After all, the trail was here for a reason, right?

Yes. Yes, it was. It got us to the middle of a waterfall that seemed terribly out of place. It was the sort of place you'd expect to be far better known with an established trail and a viewing platform. Instead, just us.

Never satisfied, we continued up the trail and found a section of the creek above the top tier of the falls. It felt more like a southeast Alaskan river given the color of the water and the way it flowed through tree roots and over rocks.

I'm often asked whether my feet get wet when mucking about in the woods. The answer: Yes. Often. Usually. But not this trip. Endura's Hummvee Waterproof Socks kept my feet dry.

I was all set and ready to continue, but Lilly thought we ought to turn back. Enough of a workout for my hip and all that. I started up the trail when she pulled out the big guns. "I'll tell Mom."

<sigh> Fine.