By: Elaine Best and Addie Lawrence, Editors
E: In a constant effort to off me and become the One True Editor, Addie invited me on an adventure to observe some waterfalls in DuPont State Forest. I had no idea that she had such nefarious plans in store, so I foolishly agreed to go along with her. She lured me in with promises of Chick-fil-a breakfasts and yuppy “becoming one with nature” experiences. With my guard completely down, I embarked on a journey with her to observe gravity at its finest.
A: My master plan to destroy Elaine began with a short hike to three spectacular waterfalls: Hooker Falls (don’t forget to help her up), High Falls and Triple Falls. The trails to the tumbling trifecta were steep, somehow managing to be incredibly muddy while covered in thin sheets of ice.
E: Completely out of breath, I soon realized that Addie was up to something. No sane friend would suggest such a “pleasant” hike in the middle of winter. But it was too late – the waterfalls were Instagramable, and like the true millennial that I am, I instantly forgot how much danger I was in and took thousands upon thousands of pictures of the same waterfall. Addie saw my weak point and suggested we could get better views and pictures from the bottom of the falls. Naively, I followed her down a treacherous flight of stairs.
A: Standing at the bottom of the falls was majestic, but it was also like being pelted with a million tiny, frozen needles. The water rushed near our feet, and sheets of icicles clung to the tree unfortunate enough to be badgered by the running water. As we attempted to relax in the beauty of nature, breathing in the the mist and listening to the rumbling water, children threw shards of ice at each other while screaming battlecries.
E: Addie bent down and touched the running water with her hand. Drawing her fingers in a straight line across her forehead, she turned to me and said it was my turn to Christen myself with the water, apparently following another one of her yuppy nature traditions. Assuming this was what one was supposed to do when near a waterfall, I bent down and did the same, smearing the cold water across my forehead. It was then that Addie told me she had just made it up. And to think that I was beginning to enjoy these strange woodland rituals…
A: After preparing the sacrificial baptism, we walked across rocks sprayed with waterfall mists, our footing precarious and our hands growing numb. Nearby, a group of hikers climbed along the edge of the waterfall. It reminded me of the time I forced Elaine to come rock climbing with me, despite her past rock climbing trauma with the Girl Scouts of America.
E: Troop 1801 meant well but had a tendency to reveal phobias I never knew I had. Addie seems to have become my new trauma replacement. Thanks, pal.
Moral of the story:
E: I really need to stop being friends with Addie.
A: Winter hiking is cold.
