I had to go in for an MRI and I don’t know, there’s just something about being shoved in a tiny tube and having a jack hammer whip around your head banging, clanking, and beeping at high speeds, that makes you really want to run away into the safety of the trees! So, after I gathered myself and found something to eat (to finally break another ghastly fast) I decided to look up local waterfalls. This one was the highest on the list so I said why not, let’s go,
I was surprised to find the entrance to the trail was situated in a lovely little neighborhood right behind a very busy highway. Since it was raining and very early in the season I was lucky in that the parking lot only had two other cars, the occupant of one was heading in with her dog. I took my time putting on my knee braces so I wouldn’t be stalking just behind her. I must say the new knee braces are AWESOME. My entire life walking and hiking has always put me in pain and lately I hadn’t been taking a lot of hikes because it was taking me up to three days to recover from the soreness. The knee braces were a one-off chance, something I heard EDS patients say helped them (even though my doctors won’t even approach diagnosing me with something that seems so fucking obvious!) This was my first time out in both knee braces and it was weeeird, like I was being propelled by them! And walking was so easy! And not taxing! Is this what normal people feel like?! I was amazed.
But back to the trail. It was decent enough, a little pine forest with a mostly flat trail but being so close to the highway and with the lack of leaves on the trees it was still VERY LOUD. This was not the sort of quiet tree hugging moment of solitude I was looking for. To be frank I was a little put off and I wasn’t the only one. The large German Shepard mix I had witnessed enter these woods with its master was now trying desperately to get out, so much so it nearly bowled me over on the way tot he exit. The owner apologized, “She’s not liking this!”
I continued on until I hit the power lines going directly across the highway. Well.. I could only go away from that noise now I had gotten that close… so onward I went. The path was quite ordinary for a pine forest, nothing of particular note except perhaps the wet moss and lichen on the tree trunks. And then I came up to the waterfall. By then the trail seemed to have split in a hundred different very well-travelled mini paths. I was confused at first but then I went around the corner and found the offshoot to the waterfall with a big sign reading, “Swim at your own risk.” OH! I had found a local swimming hole! But today was not the day for such an activity as the runoff and recent rains of spring had filled the river well past capacity and the waters were raging. I toddled with my knee braces onto the rocks above to take a few photos, concerning whoever lived across the river who probably either thought I was about to topple in or willfully throw myself into the churning waters below. He wandered his yard and kept looking over to see if I was still there. Thanks for the concern but tragic accidents weren’t on my bucket list for today.
I stayed for quite a while just letting the overwhelming sound of the water rushing by completely overtake everything else in my brain. No longer could I hear cars, no longer was I trying to soothe my frazzled nerves, it was all just… river rapids and the sounds coming off them. Ahhhhhhh, that’s what I needed. I felt great after this, so much so I was able to tackle the steep hill from the river back to the path and find my way back to the car from there going back the way I came instead of continuing the loop. This was definitely a different experience. I do think in the summer when the water is calm this place probably is a wonderful hidden gem of a swimming hole and if that’s what you’re looking for I would definitely recommend it!
I needed to escape the Love Canal house for my own health so I started to plan a trip to Maine. Two days later than planned my stomach pains finally let up enough for me to make a midnight trek and I landed softly and quietly in the wee morning hours after spending four hours cranking up the classic rock and caterwauling at the top of my lungs. I don’t know why people seem to despise driving long distances alone so much. I find it… liberating.
I really wanted to make the most of this week. I have a bunch of stops all planned out but today? Up, still got that alcohol-free hangover, and once again didn’t make it out by noon. No matter. I was on my way! I had decided after reading a series of glowing reviews to check out Rangeley Lake State Park, a two hour drive, in the hopes of catching some great foliage snaps. I planned on making September my Leaf Peeping month but the weather has been absolute whack this year and the trees are terribly confused. “Do I turn color now or…? Well I see a third of your leaves are colored buuut….” Lakes are great for foliage photos because if it’s a calm day you can get all those gorgeous colors reflected on the water.
There wasn’t much for foliage when I started out but heading into the mountains I was soon awash with bright reds, oranges, and a few yellows. Perfect. There was however quite a bit of road work, numerous flashing moose signs, and by the time I got to park I don’t think I had seen another car in twenty minutes. That always makes me a smidge hesitant. Lately I have had a lot of concerned citizens tell me I should be loaded up on mace, heavily armed, and walking a large dog wherever I go. Bears! Moose! Serial killers! Oh my! But I probably should take heed. Central Maine is the Bermuda Triangle of weird disappearances and murder mysteries. I always felt this was because, as comedian Bob Marley put it, “There’s four cops in Maine and they’re all busy following the one black guy that lives there.” Dark humor cuts deep. Also it’s rutting season which means there are horny roving bucks who can be quite dangerous… SIGH.
The drive to the park was drop dead gorgeous. Just imagine being surrounded on all sides by coral colored trees fluttering in the breeze as your car zooms at light speed through them. (The speed of light is the general consensus of locals on how fast cars should go on their roads… Speed limit signs aren’t even symbolic anymore. They’re more like a snarky backhanded “joke” about your inadequacies.) The park was however… rather dull!
This place would be AWSOME if it happened to be in the dead of summer and I had a carload of children I wanted to dump in the woods somewhere so I could force them to socialize with other Lord of the Flies styled foundlings. This had everything for that – camp sites, picnic tables galore, well beaten paths with no parking directly adjoining the camping spots, a beach, two outhouses, even a drinking fountain! Granted by now it was filled with leaves and the beach and camp sites were so empty that all you could hear was an apocalyptic wind blow by. But I was here and going to make the best of it.
I parked my car at the boat launching dock, as one does in a Prius to confuse people, and hopped out of the car with my camera. A middle aged guy on a motorcycle drove up, claimed one of the docking ports, and spent an awfully lot of time avoiding eye contact with me as I strode by. HI. I’m Typhani. I have bright orange hair, a purple plaid shirt, and sometimes I bite. Usually only on Fridays though so don’t worry. So went the imaginary conversation in my head.
I took a few photos of the mountains beyond the boat docks before heading into the woods where I found a trail leading to the beach. Goodie! This was a well worn path. So many tiny traipsing feet had gone by here that the path was more of a gaping maw in the ground where tree roots clung to a tenuous existence above ground.
Sunday evening Katherine and I chilled for a while after our adventures earlier that day and said hello to my brother and his girlfriend before eating what was left of our deep fried s’mores and attempting an early bedtime so we could get up and head into Boston, a little more than three hours away, in the morning.
I can’t say my history with Boston has been the best… I mean it’s a tough city, big, full of rude people and aggressive drivers, statistically the worst in the country, but maybe it’s not their fault. As my brother said, “Those roads aren’t meant for cars.” He’s right. Boston is filled with impossibly narrow roads and streets, many of which sport one sharp curve after another, and none of which make any logical sense. To add insult to injury half the roads are underground where the GPS no longer works and when you finally get where you’re 
going there’s no parking anywhere. And if that’s not bad enough the drivers… wow. They’re called Mass-Holes by the rest of New England. They’re real peaches. I felt like I was playing Russian Roulette at every intersection. But here too is proof of my personal growth in the past year. I only started driving myself to unfamiliar places less than a year ago and Boston was on my “uh-ah, not going to do it” list. But this time around I barely took notice, volunteered to head into the bowels of Hell without a second thought, I think shocking my brother and everyone whom I told. I used to spend my life constantly engulfed by panic and anxiety. These days I wake up and have to check my pulse because I wonder if my heart is still beating when I can’t feel it slam against my chest walls. It’s really odd but so peaceful and wonderful. Even babies don’t thwart me anymore. They used to make me super nervous but just recently I realized they’re not really made of glass. Now instead of being like, “Shit don’t get that thing near me, I may break it.” I actually find them kinda cute. Except infants. They’ll always look like raisins to me.
Back to the story… Katherine asked if we could take an adventure on the way and I said sure, why not. She chose Walden Pond because she wanted to see where Thoreau wrote 
Katherine put it. It was $15 admission and seemed to be… A swimming hole for Bostoners. There were paths around the lake, none marked very well but it didn’t much matter as there were roads and civilization everywhere. No one was going to die out here. A replica of Thoreau’s cabin stood near the visitor center where there was both information and oddly, a gift shop. We discussed how morally strange it was to have a gift shop honoring a man who was all about simplifying one’s life and cutting out materialism… Though this spirit did seem present when we found the sight of his original cabin. Here was a large pile of rocks (just like the rest of New England…) where people had made some sort of weird piled rock memorial to the man. Some used Sharpies to doodle messages and pictures on the stones they left behind.
It seems as if almost the entirety of the lake had been made into one big sandy beach. The one at the front had the shallow bits cordoned off like keeping a mass of people in a big fish net! Further out there was more nature-friendly bits, kayakers seemed to be enjoying the day on the water, and other people had found more isolated spots to swim. Katherine and I were not dressed for this, having no idea there might be swimming involved, but we decided it was a nice hot day and the water did seem rather nice. I pulled off my trusty Chuck Taylors and knee high nerd socks, rolled up my pants, and waded in. Katherine followed suit. OH! The water was so shallow it was warm and clear as the day is bright. Fish immediately came to my shockingly white calves and tried to nibble on them. These fish were weird though…. as they appeared to be a school of African Cichlids. Perhaps this lake was the “farm up North” fish disappear to when they’re no longer wanted. All I knew is these things did not look natural with their bulky silver bodies and fluorescent blue tails.
We stayed in the lake enjoying the day for quite a while, neither one of us really wanting to leave. We had found the site of the original cabin and stared at it’s sad foundation earlier on and now we were watching people stare up at the sky to witness today’s solar eclipse. A little girl near by reminded us about this and although it was slightly darker than usual neither one of us really noticed what was going on behind a large swath of fluffy clouds. Ah well, no eclipse for us, we wandered back to the car and continued on to Malden where a friend was waiting for us.
