The hard way

By Renae Brumbaugh


As some of you know, I’ve recently developed a fascination with waterfalls. And hiking. And not getting killed while hiking to pursue a waterfall. On my trip to Colorado, I almost died falling off a mountain, trying to find Mystic Falls. Okay, so maybe I didn’t almost die, but I could have. I climbed a nearlyflat mountain wall. It was treacherous. It was harrowing. I even tore my blue jeans. We followed trails into the valley, and they led us to dead ends. We climbed back up and followed more trails. We bushwhacked our way through thick pines, limbs slapping against our legs and faces. We could feel rocks shift under our feet, could hear them roll behind us, clickclicking hundreds of feet into the canyon below.
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