I've been told about a nice little waterfall at the end of a one-mile hike. It's been thirty minutes, and the trail is getting thinner, my pack heavier. I wonder if I've gone wrong somewhere. Maybe I should ditch the pack and scout ahead without it. My knees (arthritis) are only good for a few miles. I promise myself that I'll quit in five minutes. Five minutes later, I'm still going up. But the trail is wrapping around into a valley. Maybe that's where the waterfall will be. The valley is dry. No sign of ever having water. The trail turns up between some rocks.
A squirrel scolds me as I walk past. My trail has turned to a thin beaten path across moss and salal. At the top of the rock, I come back to the creek. Why didn't the trail just follow the creek to begin with? A short while later, I come to the falls. It is well worth the walk. I settle in to paint and enjoy my hard-earned view.
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