Hiking=Good Times: Part 2

by - April 08, 2011

Back to our adventure.  You can read Part 1 of the fun here.

We decided to go hiking at the Forks of the Credit Provincial Park.  I had been there once before, back when I was in my early twenties and I didn't remember it much.  Probably because I blocked it from my mind.  Because it was HARD.  I know I know.  These aren't super advanced hiking trails, but for someone who hadn't done it in 10+ years, it was difficult. 

The Forks of the Credit road.  The scene of many, many accidents.  This notorious road is only 10 minutes away from my parents, so over the years we heard of many terrible things happening on the Forks.  There are so many hairpin turns and parts of the road that are completely blind and if you are not careful, danger ensues.  This is where I turned down the music.  You know, just in case.  

Scene of my biggest nightmare.  I am not kidding.  On account of having the bladder of an 80-year-old, I had to pee before we set off on the trails.  I walked in here and after I stopped reeling from the smell (girls, you stink!), I peered down the toilet and almost had a heart attack.  I was instantly brought back to when I was five and my dad and I were in a park and I had to pee.  He brought me to the outhouse and I looked into the hole and could see down there, to the five foot tall pile of shit and piss.  All I could picture was that there was a clown down there (terrified of them still), and that it would pull me down there with it.  I sat on the toilet crying my eyes out about how I didn't want to do it while my dad screamed at me to pee.  No pressure or anything.  Freaking European fathers and their angry red-faced yelling all the time.  Needless to say, I couldn't pee back when I was five but I had to force myself to do it this time.

Trying to take a picture down the hole, but my flash wouldn't work for some reason.  This scared me even more because I had no idea what was lurking around down there.  Thankfully Dave told me a story about perverts who dress in garbage bags and crawl into outhouse holes.  I was seriously freaking out.  I made him stand right outside the door and I didn't lock it, just in case he heard a struggle and needed to bust in there.  I was very loudly proclaiming that I was going to die in there, and that something was going to pinch my butt and I would have a heart attack and would have to live with Pennywise the Clown for the rest of my life.  When air blew up my girly bits from down below (EEEK!) I squealed like a baby and Dave shuffled his feet in embarrassment outside the door, as there was now a line up to use the washroom.  Am I a weirdo?

A 'map' of all the trails.  We decided to take the red trail because it led to the falls and the ruins.  It said that it should take 45 minutes to get to the falls...I am pretty sure it took us longer than that.  We blazed our own trail baby!

Mucky spring beauty here in Ontario.

Muddy trails meant for slower walking.

Woah there. Something needs to be done about those wrinkles in between my eyes. UPDATE: taking care of them as you read this.

There was ice on some of the ponds.  I wanted to test the thickness of the ice, so we walked/ slid down to one and I stood on it.  It was pretty thick, but I was able to move the ENTIRE block of ice on the whole pond.  You can't really hear it, but it's happening.  It creaks.  Creating ripples wherever I go.

I have a picture of my friends standing inside this tree ten years ago.  It was a little less hollow then. It's comforting and sad at the same time to know that everything changes. We all get older. Hopefully not hollower though. 

Ok guys, ok.  You can't tell from this picture but we were really high up.  I was trying to capture how steep this cliff hill really was, and I couldn't, it was that steep.  Little did I know that we would be walking up this bitch later.  LITTLE DID I KNOW.  P.S- thanks Dave, for wanting to go off the trail at that moment in time, and making me walk up that crap!

I look like my mom here.  Not saying that my mom isn't beautiful, because she is, but I don't want to look like my mom yet.  My mom is like, 60.

The stairs leading down to the falls.  I was dreading having to walk back up them, but was super happy when Dave suggested we take a different way...which resulted in that bitch of a hill.  

Stay tuned for Part 3! 

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