As with any significant life event (or in my case, events) change is typically best dealt with by adaptation. The loss of a significant other and the relationship you shared, for example, leads one to adapt to spending their time differently and with other people. Whether it’s an attempt to stay distracted or a mechanism to avoid being alone through tough times, I have been lucky enough to be blessed with a group of close friends who adapted right along with me and ensured that they were there when, and if, I needed them.
Last weekend was no exception. With a particularly gloomy week on the horizon, my friend Tyler and I decided that we were getting out of dodge. CMA fest was in full-force downtown and I wanted nothing to do with the fringed-covered, bedazzled, daisy-duke sporting tourists and their cowboy hat-wearing counterparts that had taken over downtown.
So Tyler did some research and decided we were going hiking. No point in going on a hike if there isn’t something to hike to, so she chose Cummins Falls – a relatively new state park whose waterfall had recently been put on Travel & Leisure’s Top Ten list of Best Swimming Holes in the U.S. No big deal. I would have known this had I even glanced at the information Tyler had sent me beforehand, but I was far more interested in ensuring we had enough band-aids packed (my track record requires I carry band-aids with me wherever I go now) to worry about such frivolities. You can imagine my surprise when after 45 minutes of downhill trekking over logs…
…and forging across water, we arrived at this:
A hidden oasis, with delightfully frigid water that my dehydrated dog couldn’t stop gulping down and I couldn’t wait to jump in.
We sat on our rock, ate jerky and bananas, swam, scraped up our knees and got 7 shades of filthy and it was perfect.
I’m hesitant to write a rave review of my new favorite place as the crowds have yet to overtake this beautiful spot. But if you are in the area, heck, if you are within 3 hours of this place, do yourself a favor and go. And when you jump freely into the cool water, try, as I did, to leave a few of your worries beneath the surface.