On Sunday afternoon, my sister and I decided that we would head up to Multnomah Falls north of Portland. It was known for its waterfall with a beautiful bridge and a great lookout area. I saw a picture of it and I was sold. We drove back to our sleeping quarters, changed into pants and shoes rather than heels and skirts, (We had been forwarned that we would want our running shoes. But, I told them that running shoes were for running, not to wear with jeans. I just can't do it!) and we headed out. This time, we did in fact get some mapquest directions so we weren't quite so clueless.
The drive there was beautiful.
Before we knew it, we were driving through what seemed to be mountains. I don't think they were, but the vegetation seemed like it was. We got to the top of the look out and had some sisterly fun. At one point, when I was pretending to be in jail while squatting down, I began laughing saying, "I'm 39 years old! What the heck am I doing?" We laughed and laughed at who could do the dumber pose.
After spending some time at the lookout, we jumped back in the car and got back on the scenic byway looking for our Multnomah Falls. Not too many minutes later, to the right we saw the beautiful falls. We were giddy at the thought of finding them. We grabbed our hoodies and started down the trail.
While walking along, my sister pointed something out with a shriek in her voice. It was a slug. A monster slug. Have I made myself clear? Wider than a finger, longer than a size ten women's shoe big toe. We may have been slightly freaking out. Maybe. We decided that we had better watch our step as we continued down. Not ten feet later, I told my sister to really watch her step because she had just passed another slug. She freaked out wondering where it was. We snapped a picture and then really got thinking about the situation. We could just imagine a slug losing his balance high in a tree and landing on our head, or perhaps stepping on one and sliding down the trail. That was it. We bolted back up the hill covering our heads and watching every step we took. We both agreed that if a slug had landed on our heads that we would just like our heads cut off right there. We talked about the slugs for hours. We still are.
Once we reached the top of the trail, we headed over to the bridge for a picture. We were confused. We wondered how on earth someone got the picture with the falls behind the bridge. We walked all over trying to figure it out. My sister suggested that the picture may have been from an arial shot. I was sure that it had been photoshopped in. What a cruel joke. Nonetheless, we loved the memories that came from our hike to the falls. Or, small jaunt towards the falls.
Just as I was starting this post, I decided that I had better look up Multnomah Falls to be sure I spelled it correctly. There it was again. The picture with the waterfall behind the neat bridge. (I have a thing for bridges too!) Then, I noticed several pictures that all looked similar from other people that had posted their pictures. How could that be? How had all those people gotten that shot? The trees were so thick that you couldn't even see under the bridge let alone the waterfall. As I scrolled down through the pictures, I noticed a picture that looked similar to the ones I had taken. Too bad my sister is sound asleep right now, because I cannot wait to tell her that we saw Latourell Falls. Joke is on us. So, where the heck were the Multnomah Falls at? lol
It's okay. Waterfalls? You can see them anywhere. But a five inch slug? You can find them on the Latourell Falls trail that's where. Seeing them with my sister. Priceless.