Based on a recent comment I made on the web site of a friend, I wrote this short story this morning. Entitled, She’s A Dream, I hope that you’ll enjoy reading it.
I rested on a tropical sandy cay, comfortable in a low seat with my bare feet in warm, shallow water. Small waves carried the tranquil and continuous rhythm of ocean currents on shore, breaking into sand and drowning in retreat.
With a cooling but mild summer breeze rustling palm fronds through the trees on shore behind me, I dreamed I heard a British woman from the past – Clementine – sounding a conch shell from a hillside in the distance.
I was at peace as the sun grew old, slowly dropping from the sky, setting colors of gold, orange and peach in brilliant illumination across scattered clouds on the horizon. Then, on the edge of time, sunlight refracted through a level plane in the ocean, casting a bright, blinding green flash!
Moments passed into minutes, until my sight returned. And, then I saw her – the silhouette of a beautiful woman slowly walking along the shoreline in my direction. Long, flowing hair wafting on thermals, hips swaying slightly with each casual step, I could tell that she wasn’t very tall, and watched closely as she approached.
She was barefoot with a lovely figure, suntanned, wearing a bikini top and fishnet skirt, and also wore a small diamond piercing on her nose. Immediately, I was drawn to the most beautiful pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen…she was a goddess!
I was captured by a vision of her beauty, when suddenly she spoke –
Hello my dear friend, Phil. How are you today?
What?! I’d never seen this woman before – though very much wish that I had. Who was she? I was on a remote tropical island in the Caribbean… At that moment, a small coconut detached from a palm tree, dropping on my head and knocking me to the ground.
When later I regained my senses, I was alone and realized that she was only a dream.
I’m a photographer, designer and artist. And, from time to time, I indulge myself with words. I’m not a poet, per se, but there are times when I do enjoy the creative process of writing short poems. Yet, to do so requires a source of inspiration…
Fortunately, I have a good friend named Carla Milho, a gifted writer from Lisbon, Portugal, with whom I converse on a regular basis. I’m grateful for her friendship, and always enjoy her writings – some of which have inspired these poems as my response:
Were the day night, and night to be day, The tables changed of linens and wax. A challenge of discovery, Unraveling to be my task.
Originally, my intention was to comb the rock bed along Richland Creek. Given low seasonal water levels across the Cumberland Plateau, I hoped to observe interesting underlying geological formations. However, things changed when I arrived.
You’ve probably never heard of Paine Creek. It’s a rather obscure creek streaming down a mountain side along the Laurel-Snow Trail, in Dayton, Tennessee. I’ve visited this park before, and traversed the rocky field of boulders along Paine Creek, though always wondered what was beyond the last waterfall.
Early into the hike, I approached a small wooden bridge over Paine Creek. Built upon stone columns erected in the early 1900’s by the Dayton Coal & Iron Company, the area has many remnants from that era, including old mine entrances into the mountain – one of which is situated directly under a waterfall. Once again, I opted to follow a trail spur uphill along the creek, beginning what would on this occasion become a 7-hour journey.
There are several small waterfalls upstream, each of which becomes increasingly difficult to access. Boulders ranging in sizes over 20-feet pepper the landscape, requiring hikers to go around, climb over, or, in some cases, traverse narrow passageways. It would be necessary at times to backtrack, as ones line of sight forward is often imperfect, routes of which subsequently proved impassable.
In addition to sufficient footwear, physical conditioning, food and water, I would suggest that perhaps the most important element for a hiker in such circumstances is discretion – knowing when to say no, so as to more closely examine secondary options. The cost of bad judgement can be high, and slippery moss-covered rocks were a dangerous and constant concern.
Framed / Canvas / Art / Poster / Metal / Wood / Acrylic / Tapestry
If you’d be interested in a print of any kind, visit my shop at FAA.
Here are a few photographs of small waterfalls along Paine Creek –
Waterfall & Mine
The following photographs feature the furthest waterfall which I’d previously visited, until this hike. In this area, high walls of the gorge envelope the falls on both sides, while the ledge above the falls is beyond reach. A particularly interesting aspect to these falls is that, with the exception of high water levels, the flow of water originates solely from the interior of an old mine entrance. As I would later learn, water from the creek above seeps through an underground passage into this mine. Having a look inside, I could see the front edge of a pool of water, and the footprints of a small animal. Fortunately, no bears!
After enjoying this setting for a spell, it was time to move on – what was above this waterfall? As noted, I wasn’t able to climb the front of the falls, and, the gorge walls stood approx. 50-feet tall. So, I backtracked a short distance to the trail and continued uphill.
After a period of time, and with temperatures approaching 90-degrees, I began to wonder how much further I’d need to travel along this trail before reaching the top. It seemed as if I must have already ascended an estimated 300-feet in elevation, far more than I’d earlier assumed would be necessary.
Onward and upward, I continued my trek and would soon encounter a 30-foot climbing rope secured to a tree on the cap-rock above. After evaluating the scenario – assessing surface conditions as being slippery for footholds, as well as my tripod continually catching the underside of protruding rocks – I opted to remain on the trail, shortly thereafter finding a better way to the top.
Top of The Mountain
Finally on top of the mountain, the trail continued beyond where the climbing rope was affixed, to a ledge with an expansive, scenic view across the valley.
The view was great, although, however faintly, I could hear the sound of water in the distance – downhill, beyond the forest. This was my goal, and so I soon continued along the edge of the mountain as far as I could. At a point, though, massive cliffs forced me into the forest without any path to follow, moving cautiously through the trees, vines, and – oh, joy – a seemingly endless quantity of sharp-thorn bushes.
I was constantly having to untangle myself from the plants and trees, often needing to remove my backpack – again, my tripod was an issue – and, at times, both climb over & crawl under downed trees.
Patience. In such situations, it’s easy to become frustrated. However, rather than plowing through dense foliage to save time, it’s important to remain patient, particularly in an unfamiliar environment. Case in point – on two occasions, reminding myself to slow down allowed for an opportunity to observe rock ledges hidden behind bushes…so, heads up!
Albeit gradual, the sound of running water began to intensify as I continued downhill, until, finally, I could see the creek through the trees below! There was, though, one last obstacle – an 8-foot high ledge with no obvious safe path of descent.
At 56 years old, weighing 235 lbs., and with bad knees – as well as experiencing fatigue from the hike – a drop from that height would be ill-advised, potentially injurious.
Hence, I began searching back and forth along the edge of the ledge to assess my options. Of course, this entailed dealing with more difficult foliage during the process, but I soon found what I considered to be a safe means of descent. I determined that if I sat down on an appreciably steep area of the hillside – covered with a thick, relatively dry moss and dirt – that I could control my speed by inching forward to contact a closely situated tree using my feet. Thereafter, grasping the branchless trunk to climb down.
As anticipated, I moved slowly and the process unfolded without a hitch. It wasn’t until I set foot on the floor of the gorge, however, that the thought crossed my mind –
I really hope there’s an easier way to leave when it’s time to go.
Beyond The Last Waterfall
Yes – I’d finally arrived and there was in fact another beautiful waterfall tucked away in this isolated, pristine gorge! My first order of business, however, was to locate a hand-towel from my backpack, wet it in the creek, and wash away the sweat, debris, bugs, and – caused by the thorns – blood on my legs.
Soon thereafter, following a careful walk-around to survey the area, I heard a rumble of thunder. A light rain followed, lasting for nearly one-half of an hour, and so I took refuge under a tree and rested while enjoying a snack I’d brought along. I didn’t mind the rain, but realized that all rock surfaces would now be extremely slippery and that any steps in the gorge must be undertaken with heightened deliberation.
This video begins by overlooking what would be the spillway above the top edge of the lower waterfall, were a high-volume of water present. Next, a view of the upper waterfall is shown. Last, it finishes where the creek vanishes under a rock wall and into the mine below.
As it turned out, there was a 20-foot uphill scramble across the creek to the left of where this video concludes. Fortunately, the water was low – otherwise, access to this return route would not have been possible. I hiked into the forest, and, eventually, down hill and back to the Laurel-Snow Trail along Richland Creek.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this recount of my recent Adventure At Paine Creek. Thanks for visiting & enjoy the great outdoors!