With only one day to play, we had to fire up a double feature. I informed him that we'd be getting up early to squeeze in as much as possible, and because ATV riders who tear up the trails tend to sleep in. Wonderfalls would be ours and only ours provided we got there early. So, according to plan, we parked the car after the rocky drive down to Rockville at about 9 am and walked the mile down the jeep trail to the waterfall.
It was a chilly 58 degrees when we left the car, but the sun soon grew hot enough that we felt the urge to jump. This place is truly a blast. We spent a few hours jumping and attempting to get the shot, which is the photograph that would in one single glance give the viewer the impression of beauty, nature, and fun, fun, fun that this place possesses. In my opinion, this one comes close.
After we'd jumped to our hearts content, we hiked the mile to the next waterfall, known as Big Splat to paddlers. This one is not good for jumping, but the hike to get there is fun and the scenery and solitude is well worth it.
On the hike out, we passed the ATV riders on their way to ruin our prized spot. Perfect timing!
Lunch was spent at Little Sandy's, where Mike spent a whopping $1.83 on his. He tipped a dollar, which I pointed out was well over a 50% tip, so that waitress must have done something spectacular.
We rushed back to my apartment to retrieve the boating gear. Michael would paddle the Cheat Narrows in the afternoon. It just keeps getting better around here. A little logistical hiccup in the plans threw in a three-and-a-half mile jog for the shuttle, but it was all worth it in the end. Mike swam a half-dozen or so times, ran the big rapid well ("Calamity"), and spent the drive back to Morgantown letting me know that this was the best day of the year so far. It felt great to hear that.
We finished off the day at the Black Bear where some pony-tailed guitarist covered James Taylor, the Beatles, and other 60s soft rock tunes. Mike thought it was great; I was annoyed there was neither a banjo nor a fiddle. A few Oatmeal Stouts and glasses of red later and Mike was drunk dialing our friend Min in Los Angeles telling him tall tales of West Virginia waterfalls and whitewater.
Enjoy the photos!
Git 'r dun.
