Monday 15th October 2018 (updated)

I woke from the best night’s sleep I have had on this side of the pond this trip. I guess ten days of flu, allergies and the other things had left me thoroughly pooped out. But nine hour’s sleep soon sorted that out.

Jools got up to make a pot of coffee, made from a coffee bag. Not quite as bad as it sounds, but close. No worries as in the lobby there are two pots of coffee, syrups, milk along with a continental breakfast bar, all included. So we will our boots. Or pockets.

I had searched the interwebs for things to do, and with a list at hand, we decided to go out to find something fall-y to look at and snap. Only problem was, as we were to find out, that the directions given on the sites was very, very poor.

It was a cold grey day, and the wooded mountain tops only just visible. We drove south and soon were running beside a railway. Always excites the little boy in me. The track followed the road, and us when we turned east, and on the main road there was a depot and station, all full with classic America traction. I would investigate this place another day.

Off the main road, we took a side road up a narrow gorge/valley, the rain was still falling, but it did look like it might clear up later. We were looking for a trailhead leading to a waterfall, all I knew was that it was in the area of Hunter, NY. It gave a road and directions, but was so wrong it was laughable.

We took each road out of town and saw nothing that looked like it might be waterfall. The road, however twisted and turned like a twisty turny thing, and was fnd to drive up, up and dover dips, round hairpin bends, and in a steady rain that made the road slick.

We found a trailhead, but not the trailhead we were looking for. It went through a brick arch, which seemed over the top, but with the rain falling still and light poor, we decide not to walk it.

At the top of the valley, we follow the sat nav to where the website said the trail would be, but we just ended up in a dead end street surrounded by wooden cabins.

We went back into Hunter, called in at a bagel shop for some food and coffee. And to ask for directions.

And they came through and were so helpful, telling us we had to go to the next town, and beyond to Haines Falls, then take a left until you see a telegraph pole in the middle of the road. Turn right there, and down to the end of the track.

Which is what we did, and found the parking area, and the trailhead.

We park up, grab carious cameras and lenses, and walk to the trail, at first it was easy, until we came to a fork in the path.

Now, there was a choice; an easy path to an overlook, or a difficult track to the lower falls viewing point. Guess what we chose?

We turned off from the track to the viewing platform, took a downhill track, crossed over a bridge, and from there the path began to drop down. At first through woods, but then down the enge of the gorge. And of course, with each step down, we would have to climb back up.

At times the track was steep and treacherous, sometimes easier, but no views of the waterfall to our right, just the noise of it roaring. I say roaring, not so much a Niagara more a Bridal Falls, but hey.

The path twists and turned it’s way down the gorge until there was a fork, a set of steps cut into the rock lead down, and another path lead on. We would do both, but for now, we go on.

What revealed itself to us, was a rock amphitheatre a hundred-foot height, and from one part, a waterfall maybe two metres wide fell in sheets. Just glorious. And being out of season, there was just a few folks there, and most photographers who were respectful.

Down the stone steps to the lower fall view, and from the shelf above, a second fall added to the drop. Sure it won’t impress many, but to be there on a fall afternoon, the rain cleared up, and Jools and I had the place to ourselves. There was nothing better.

We pause for then minutes or so, to take in the scene and to prepare ourselves for what was to come.

All there was now was the walk back.

So, deep breath, and up we go. We didn’t break any records, but we made steady progress, stopping at regular intervals for a breather and admire the view. So stopping, we see moss, fungi and lots of fallen leaves of course. Round and round, up and up until we got to the bridge, and to complete the set, I walked to the overview just to see the upper falls from above.

We were all hot and bothered, but did it, more than most who visit here.

Back into the car, we drive back along the main road to Prattsville where we stop at the diner. A regular recommended the American Goulash, but having once been married to a Yugoslav, I know goulash. I order the American goulash, which was dry bolognese sauce with macaroni, and bland. I suppose I could have asked for some hot sauce, but I am happy with what was on the plate. But we felt we had earned our late lunch/early dinner, and we ate it all up before climbing in the car for the drive back to Roxbury.

Music, coffee, editing and Monday Night Football filled the evening, until it was half ten, and bed called. Outside the rain hammered down, meaning another night we would not sit on the terrace sipping mint julips.