Reliving the Horrors of the Preteen Years (Laurel Falls)

Ease of Hike: Very Easy, except for the death stairs

Traumatic Childhood Flashbacks: 5ish

There is a picture hanging in the hall of my family home that I have often pleaded with my mother to please, please, for the love of mercy, take down off the wall. The picture is taken at Laurel Falls on our first family vacation in the Tennessee Mountains. Our family is with the Gwilt family, some of our closest friends in youth and our very best vacation partners. In the picture, my parents are young and flushed with sun, the group is sweaty and comfortable, even the Gwilt girls who sport knee braces wear contented smiles - all except for me. I am 12 years old; if I have not yet had my first period, then it is building up within to a tidal wave, ready to burst forth literally at any second; my hair is a massive, mousy halo of frizz, and I am wearing a flowered shirt with plaid shorts over fat legs. My eyes are red from crying, and my mouth is turned down in a malicious scowl.

This, oh readers, is the Crabby Hiker at her first - the primordial C.H. This is the first I knew that I hated the woods, and the woods, likewise, hated me. Though nature and I have now reached a restless armistice, embracing each other one moment and resorting to exchange of fire the next, this resumption of relations has taken more than a decade to settle in, perhaps all due to the early horrors of Laurel Falls.

To be clear, Laurel Falls is among the very easiest trails in the region. On our short Sunday hike, we encountered two dogs (one a puppy), countless children (some under five), vacationers hiking in flip-flops and old women in bikini tops just back from a dip under the falls. This is not a wilderness trail - this is the tourist trail at its best, which is why my parents and the Gwilt parents were hiking it with eight children in tow. However, though I've taken this trail many times since the fateful day when modern photography immortalized my pre-adolescent hellmood, I figured it's never too late for an Official Redemption Hike.

Mile .5 - I trip over my first root. Husband likens me to a blind AT hiker without a guide dog; however, in defiance of my track record, this is pretty much all my tripping for the trip. We're surrounded on both sides by thick rhododendron; it's not in bloom, but rhododendron leaves are beautiful, and the way they grow up all around us makes it feel a little like we've stepped into a jungle.

Mile .75 - Though, as I mentioned, I've been back and forth to Laurel Falls on numerous occasions, Hubby surprises me by taking me on a side-trail to "Potato Top," a short, steep climb to a beautiful view, including some surrounding rocky outcroppings. It's unexpected and beautiful. A sunny shower falls on us at the top, and a skeletonized tree nearby makes me fear briefly that I will be struck by lightning, but we make our way back to the main trail without incident.

Mile 1 - We trip our way down the long set of stone steps that lead to the falls. Here we encounter the dogs, who "do not bite," according to their owners, but who bark at us as if they thirst for blood. Also coming up the stairs, a family with two kids are brought to a halt by a daughter on the verge of tears - I feel an immediate connection with this four-year-old as she moans in agony, "It's going to be such a long way back!"

It occurs to me that, in the 12-year-old picture where I am already clearly past the whining stage into crying, I had not yet encountered the only miserable part of the Laurel Falls trail - the part the four-year-old is facing now - the climb back up the stairs from the waterfall to the main path. I wonder how I dragged my whiny carcass back up the - this is a guess - .2 miles of stairs before me. I wonder how my mother tolerated the agonized laments and constant stops; I wonder how my siblings and friends bore it, and if they did. Maybe I would surprise my current-day self by having braved the steps with stunning ease - after all, my well-remembered tears were not due to the woods itself, but because of the perceived abandonment that occurred when I fell behind the "fast group," the big kids, and nobody waited or came back for me. Too slow, I was relegated to the realm of parents and babies, and for that I punished everyone with my sour mood.

Mile 1.2 - We're at the falls. Hubbs needs to go to the bathroom - badly. We don't stay long before conquering what will prove to be, for my husband, an especially uncomfortable journey back up the hell stairs. But the waterfall is what I'd hoped - it is calm, it is cool, it is non-judgmental. It makes no demands on my current or my pre-teen self. It says, come, wait, sit, wade - no need to turn back yet toward the torturous stairs. No need to turn back ever. Why dont' you just live here, by the water, forever?

Total miles: 2.4, plus the Potato top bonus. 2.8 altogether.

Difficulty Level: Easy

Recommended: For a light day hike with dogs and children