A Day in the Creek

A day in the creek is a day well spent. Sunshine, moving water, smooth rocks, little fishies, shady trees—what's not to enjoy? Maybe that creek smell. That's the only thing that comes to mind. It can be a little obnoxious to the nostrils, I know. But coming home, smelling like creek, well that right there is what it's all about. It's an earned aroma, one that can only be obtained by spending the entire day in the creek. And last week, on a bright and sunny April Tuesday, that's exactly what we did. 

We began the day with determined minds to reach a determined goal. And that goal was not spending the entire day in the creek. Funny how things work out like that. We had prepared for a fairly arduous day, a day of labor rather than leisure. We had planned on reaching an elusive, seldom visited waterfall, one that has been on my list for quite a long time now. Hardly any information about this waterfall exists, save for a few colloquial names and pictures from those who've been savvy enough to figure out where it's located. I had a good idea of where it was, but I wasn't 100% sure. And then came the intel. 

We received directions from a friend who told us the exact location of the falls. He'd been there himself, discovering them on accident after descending the wrong canyon. He informed us, to my surprise, that these falls are actually pretty easy to get to, at least a lot easier than what I expected. Granted, it had been over 20 years since he discovered these falls and his memory could be a little fuzzy, but information is information. Sure I was skeptical, but there was only one way to see if these directions were correct. We gave 'em a go. 

I packed light knowing that we were looking at a fairly low-mileage day. Just a fanny pack, some bars, and one bottle of water. Benny brought his fishing stuff. Figured he'd scout out some pools on the way back. Alex brought the essentials: food, water, and beer. We met at the trailhead at 8:40am, mingled a bit, and then set off for the falls a little after 9:00am. 

Sunlight peered through the canopy. Birds sat chirping in the trees. The mushrooms lingered in the shade while the spring flowers pushed and shoved for time in the sun. The creek flowed nearby, the sound of its rushing waters soothing to the mind. Already, not even ten minutes into the hike it was calling us, beckoning us, manipulating our minds to give up our goal and enter its waters and rest and be lazy. We did not listen. We pressed on. 

It was a cool morning, but one that hinted at coming warmth. The local fauna were in no hurry to do anything. Laziness permeated the air. A snake sat in the sun, charging up, getting ready for the day. It made no effort to escape when I crouched down and nabbed it. The snake sat comfortably in my grip, making no protest. I handed it to Benny. Benny looked at it. Benny put it down. It slowly slithered away, annoyed, no doubt, by this most rude interruption to its morning sunbath. 

We took a break, ate some foodstuffs. Benny packed an excess of tangerines and offered them to the group, my stomach now bearing the extra load. We reached a viewpoint, one where we could see much of the canyon that lay ahead. Fingers pointed. Imaginary lines were drawn in the air. "We go this way, then we turn left, up a side canyon somewhere." As we discussed our route, the morning dragged lazily along, the sun slowly rising in the sky. 

We descended the highpoint and dropped into the canyon. Soon after we left the trail and entered the creek. I got out the dry bag. Things were going to get wet. Goodbye, dry shoes, goodbye, dry clothes, goodbye, dry everything. We were promptly soaked, sloshing and wading and swimming through numerous blue-green pools. 

The canyon walls rose high above us. Sometimes they narrowed, hugging everything close together. The rocks and twigs and trees and such were mostly absent in these narrow sections, no doubt the cause of flash flooding. At other times the canyon opened up, allowing ample room for foliage to grow without worry of being carried away in a flash flood. 

Numerous shady trees with hyper-green leaves grew within the canyon, their smell fresh and lovely, the classic perfume of spring. Underneath the canopy was the creek, meandering its way through several huge boulders, forming large pools every now and then. Within these pools sat smooth reddish stones and numerous small fish. Benny was elated. The creek, still trying to convince us to give up and relax, was starting to win Benny over. He set up his pole, cast a few lines. "One more, just one more" he would say. We kept going, our pace slower now. The day was starting to shape up for what was to come. Our goal was slipping.

The sun rose higher, its heat growing noticeable. We walked through the water, succumbing to its soothing song. There'd be a break in the trees and we'd take a breather on the warm rocks, eating more tangerines and such. In the sun the water possessed an aqua-blue color, a sight most inviting in this late morning heat. Benny saw fish through his polarized glasses. He cast more lines. The creek had won him over. The waterfall was of little interest to him now. And to be honest, it was of little interest to me too at that point. 

The water looked so nice. The weather—perfect creek weather. Plus, we'd gone much farther than we had planned, the directions looking to be incorrect. We had seen no side canyon. No fork in the creek. But ehh, maybe we just hadn't seen it yet. Curiosity drove us forward, and so we continued with our hike. 

Benny slipped on some underwater moss. He slid into shallow water and landed on his ankle, bruising it and tearing a nice hole in the flesh. That about sealed the deal. Not much long after that incident he called it quits and remained at a nice pool to fish. Alex and I continued on, still driven by some mild curiosity.

We hadn't hiked more than ten minutes before we reached an impasse. A waterfall, but not the right one. This one can be accessed by a trail, albeit one that is in disuse and overgrown. Alex had visited it about two weeks prior. "I knew this section of creek looked familiar!" he said. We both looked at it, stunned. Had we really gone that far up the creek? Yes, yes we had. And that meant that the directions we received were totally, most definitely, absolutely 100% incorrect. We had been told that our elusive falls were located a good ways downstream from this waterfall at which we were now observing. The elusive falls can only be accessed via creek, not trail. And we'd been in the creek most of that morning, looking to the left for a supposed side canyon. We saw no such thing. The directions were incorrect, our attempt at reaching the elusive falls a failure.

We trekked back down the creek, noticing a faint use trail descending down the side of the canyon through the brush. "Ahh, yes, I remember it now! There it is!" Alex said as he pointed to the trail. We would not be taking it back. First, because we had to get Benny. Couldn't just leave him in the creek. And second, because the creek was awesome. We could no longer resist its siren song. We had become fully entranced.

The day slowed. Unhurried and leisurely vibrations, emanating from the creek, set the tone for the trek back to the car. We were casual, nonchalant, lazy, relaxed. We took our time, enjoying the breeze rustling the leaves in the trees, watching the frogs as they leapt into the creek, hiding underneath the smooth reddish stones. We regrouped with Benny, who said he'd caught five little fish, all trout. We lingered a bit by his chosen pool, had a snack lunch. And then we were off, slowly making our way back down the creek, enjoying the lovely spring air as much as we could.

Benny was in full-blown fishing mode, now determined to catch "the big one." He'd cast a few lines in a pool, study it, ponder a bit, and then move on to another. Alex and I hung back, enjoying the water and the warm boulders. I laid down, put my straw hat over my face, and took a little snooze in the sun. Benny kept at his fishing, Alex soaked in the cool water, beer in hand. The hours ticked by, the light in the canyon shifted. The creek provided much of the soundtrack for the day, but every now and then we'd hear the call of a random bird, its shrill cackle noticeable above the gentle hum of the water. 

And then there came another sound. The triumphant screeches of a successful fisherman. Alex and I made our way down the creek, sliding down boulders, wandering over to the sound of Benny's shouts. We found him sitting on top of a large boulder, his line cast in a deep blue pool fed by a small waterfall. Told us he caught a good sized trout, about ten inches. He tried holding on to it for a bit so that we could get a picture of it (he had forgotten his phone at home) but it wriggled too much and he let it go. Ahh well. The catch will have to live on in his memory. 

We stayed at that pool for a while, Benny still trying to catch another trout of that size. He was unsuccessful. Alex took some pictures and I wandered around, observing the creatures of the creek. Frogs, little fishies, water bugs, toe-biters, slugs, and these tiny little, weird lookin' leech things. Alex found a toe biter with a bunch of eggs on its back. I found a water snake slitherin' around, enjoying the sun. This one, being fully charged, was much harder to catch than the one I'd bothered earlier in the morning. I followed the snake down the creek, slipping on slick rocks in the process. The thing was too quick, always escaping my grasp. I almost had it and then it slipped into the water and rode a small waterfall into a small pool. I never saw it again. 

We continued down the creek, Benny now realizing that he was unlikely to catch another winner. In fact, he wasn't catching much of anything anymore. Word must have got out. The fish were no longer visible, most likely hiding under the smooth reddish rocks with the frogs. 

We spent some time at this one large pool for a while, swam a bit, got cold, stood in the sun. The light was now creeping up the canyon's eastern wall. We were soon in the shade. The day was coming to a close, the afternoon light slowly receding with every passing second. We geared up and got going. 

A little ways before joining the trail, we decided to stay in the creek and check out this side canyon we had seen on the way up earlier that morning. The elusive falls were surely not located up this canyon, but hey, we had to check it out just to be sure. We re-entered the creek, hopping, sliding, and jumping down the boulders. 

We made it to the entrance of the side canyon. It was short and steep, containing almost no water and several sharp rocks and large boulders. It was a steep little canyon, quickly gaining elevation. And then it ended abruptly, a big ol, slick cliff face with a tiny bit of water trickling through the cracks. Was this it? Was this the waterfall that we had been seeking? Nope. Alex thought it was, Benny was indifferent, I knew it wasn't. I'd seen pictures of the true falls and this one here looked nothing like it. But oh well. It was a waterfall of some kind so we were happy. Started the day in search of a waterfall, ended the day by finding one. It wasn't the right one, but that doesn't matter. 

We left the side canyon and stayed in the creek for a while until finally regaining the trail a bit farther downstream. The sun sat low in the sky, no longer warm. Orange light bounced off the trees and rocks, the surrounding country bathed in a late afternoon glow. We made it back to the trailhead sweaty, a little sunburnt, and caked with the perfume of the creek. It had been an awesome day. A good amount of wandering around, a good amount of exploring, a good amount of swimming, a good amount of relaxing. It was nice to slow down for a bit, to take life casually, to soak it up in the waters of the creek for a bit, to leave all worries and dreams and hopes and aspirations and whatnot behind for a while. 

That's the magic of the creek: it washes not only the body, but the mind as well. At least for a moment. When I got home, I was back on the grind, searching google earth, looking for these mysterious falls that we had missed. After about fifteen minutes I found them. I was sure of it. I could see them there, laying far up the canyon, much farther than what we had been told. Aha, this was more like it. 

Now that I had found them, I was soon to be back, back in the canyon, back in the creek. The hike would be much longer and whole lot harder, but that's to be expected. These falls are seldom visited for a reason. There was NO WAY that we were gonna make it with the supplies we had brought that day. But it was meant to be. We were destined to spend the day in the creek. And so we did.