Great Falls

Great Falls, 6 October 2008

Voices and laughs wake me up in the middle of the night. Hikers came to the shelter after I was asleep. Fortunately, I am two hundred yards away from them. I pee under a shining moon near my tent. Full moon is near.

I wake up for good at 6 am. I set up the alarm clock, as I want to arrive early in Salisbury. It is still dark when I get out of the tent. As my lower back aches a lot, I return in the tent to stretch on the mattress. Due to the small space inside the tent, I focus on the cobra posture. I tilt backward my head with my arms stretched, while keeping my pelvis to the floor. It triggers a sharp pain in the lumber region. I should stretch every day to avoid it. On the trail, it is difficult to do it. A high mileage, since Harpers Ferry, takes its toll to the body.

At 7.30, I leave the lovely stealth camp near Pine Swamp. I find four hikers, three boys and a girl, inside the lean-to. The girl has her head tilting outward the floor of the shelter. She opens her eyes as I come along. The boys are snoring heavily for a good reason. The fire pit is filled of beer cans; an empty wine bottle with tidbits of cake lay near a scruffy head. They had a good time! As I roll my eyes, the girl cracks a smile. She looks fine. She did not drink as much as her friends did. One woops, will he vomit? I leave them to their hangover.

After a warm up period, the pain to the lower back subsides. I grind miles on a plateau veering northeast. A growing roar is coming to the left. Lack of view in the woods is compensated by old souvenir. I remember a racetrack in a valley. As the trail nears a cliff, I look down. I recognize the racetrack. A dozen of cars are moving on the racetrack. Lime Rock Park was opened on 20 April 1957. A crowd of six thousand people, including late commentator Walter Conkrite and fashion designer John Weitz, watched the first race. Ted Sprigg won it, driving an Alfa Romeo Guilietta. Today, drivers are amateurs, who are monitored by a professional staff. I take a snapshot of the racetrack.

At the top of Sharon Mountain, the trail plunges to Housatonic River. At Belter’s campsite, pine trees succeed to oak trees. A flyer warns hikers that the bridge above Housatonic River is under repair. The roundabout way is four miles long. For our own safety, it is advised to walk on the left side of the road. I put away the ski poles. It is a strange feeling to walk with empty hands. I put them on the shoulder straps to alleviate the backache. The pain resumed in the steep downhill. The road goes by the entrance of Lime Rock Park, then turn right, in front a lovely church, to a secondary road on the right bank of the river. In the garden of some houses, people rake up. Leaves are falling as rain drops in the swirling wind alongside the river.

After a couple of hours on the roundabout, I catch up the trail at a blue iron bridge going to Falls Village, located on the left bank. A driver, coming from the other side of the bridge, opens his window to yell at me, “Hey guy, watch out the sky!” I need not his taunting warning. Rain will catch up with me before I reach Salisbury.

At Great Falls, I hurry up to take pictures. The stream flows over a low inclined ledge, before dropping a sixty feet wall above a beautiful natural pool. I take a snapshot from the bottom near the pool. After I climb back the steep slope, I come across two men having lunch at the balcony. I go over the gate to take a closer snapshot of the falls.

The top of the falls has been altered by a concrete dam diverting the stream to a gallery toward a power station. Falls Village was famous for its iron discovered by Ames’s Brothers. Thanks to a high grade of iron, cannons were made here during the Civil War...

As soon as I leave Great Falls, rain starts. I am lucky to be in the middle of the woods, when it turns to heavy rain. I stop to protect my backpack with a rain cover. Mount Prospect, with its 1475 feet, is the highest point of that easy stage. At Rand’s view, I am blessed by a sudden clearing of the sky. Mountains in the background look daunting in the midst of prairie.

Half a mile further, another good surprise is waiting for me. A giant limestone thumb of twelve feet high is erected. It is an exceptional geological formation. The soil around the thumb is sandy and totally cleared of leaves. It increases its magic stand. In Neolithic period (4000 to 3000 BC) people in Europe erected dolmen to honor their dead. Has the giant’s thumb been erected by Indians? Who knows?

One third of a mile further, I am welcomed by rays of sun at Billy’s View. What Billy saw at his time is now the city of Salisbury. A white church’s tower looms above Main Street. I am glad to have a roof tonight.