Over the weekend, I went on a little hike. One of my closest friends has been going on hikes on almost a weekly basis for a while now, and it’s piqued my interest in wanting to do some hiking on my own, despite the drastic difference in quality of hiking trails between Georgia and Virginia.
After doing a little bit of searching, and finding a few comprehensive lists of hikes in the remote Atlanta/North Georgia region, I found a trail oddly-located within the city limits that seemed like a good idea to try, that wouldn’t eat up my entire day driving to get there, and keep my afternoon free for things I needed to do.
The Cascade Springs Nature Preserve is located almost in the middle of the city, leaning towards the Southwestern region of the Perimeter. Typically, the words “Southwest Atlanta” is synonymous with crime and shootings on almost a daily basis, but it turns out that this chunk of land sits a little bit further out from those sketchy neighborhoods, and is apparently protected greenspace that continues to exist as this juxtaposed oasis of nature surrounded by sprawl.
Ideally, what drew me to this place was aside from the convenient location, were a few photographs of some scenic sights on the trail that I wanted to see with my own eyes, to see if they were truly as slightly as they were photographed, and if they had any potential as a good scene to take pictures of in the future. Additionally, I simply just wanted to get outdoors, hike, build up a good sweat, and feel like I’ve explored nature or something like that.
For the most part, I can say mission accomplished in those criteria.
But when the day was over, the place was kind of underwhelming, and I guess it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, consider they’re still a trail located within city limits.
Sometimes, well, rather often times, I overestimate the popularity of pretty much any place I decide I want to go visit. It doesn’t matter if it’s a restaurant, store, ballpark, and in this case, a hiking trail, I always assume that it’s going to be packed, and I that I need to get there early to beat the rush. Waking up at 7:45 am on a Sunday morning seemed like a good idea, so that I could hit the trails before all the hordes of other day-trippers would clog the trail and plug up the waterfalls that I was hoping to see.
Nope, that wasn’t going to be the case, because the parking lot was empty when I got there.
At first, I thought “good, thank god,” because that meant the trail would be nice, quiet and solitary for me to enjoy the scenery and soak in nature all to myself.
But then I quickly realized the folly of being the first guy to hit the trail in the day – I pretty much ran into every single cobweb in the entire forest, and after about five minutes of it, I had to slow my pace, just so I could wave a branch in front of me the entire rest of the way, because it was driving me up the wall colliding with every single web and thread that was invisibly hanging from everything in the woods.
The elderly couple that entered the trail as I was leaving have no fucking clue how lucky they are to have had me pretty much wipe the trail clean of all cobwebs in front of them.
As for the trail itself, it was alright. Now I probably didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have, because I spent so much time fighting cobwebs, but from what I remember, the trail is fairly narrow, a little hilly, and despite the fact that you can hear cars closer to the entrance, you can get deep enough into the woods to where things actually go quiet, and you can stop and listen to silence and the occasional bugs buzzing around. At one point, I was startled by a giant deer bounding away into the trees, its white fluffy tail, being the only distinguishing thing contrasting from the sea of greens and browns.
A funny thing happened to me while I was walking. After about 45 minutes, I was standing at an intersection, and then pretty much out of the blue, this sense of anxiety washed over me. I’m not entirely sure what prompted the thoughts, but I suddenly began thinking about how copperhead snakes have been reportedly problematic this summer, and the thought that if I were to be spontaneously bitten by a well-hidden copperhead, then being completely alone in the woods, I’d probably be screwed. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t feel a modicum of panic in my head, and I had to forcibly suppress my mental anxiety for a few seconds before proceeding on.
Every rustle and sound I heard subsequently, I knew was probably a deer, squirrel, or a chipmunk, but if I couldn’t definitively see it, then it could be a copperhead.
I watch too many survival shows.
Needless to say, once I began to feel anxious, my legs picked up the pace for me. Regardless, with a trail an estimated 1.9 miles, it didn’t last long before I was suddenly spit back out into the opening fork in the trail.
As for the waterfall, it wasn’t nearly as impressive as the photographs that sold me on the trail made it out to be. Maybe when the photos were taken it was after substantial rainfall or something, because when I went, it was more like a trickling stream, more than it was any fluid movement. I see potential for photography with it, but only if the conditions were better than the day in which I visited.
Ultimately, Cascade Springs is a brisk walk in the woods more than it is a hike, or anything truly physically challenging. But for what it was worth, it was nice to get outside and take in at least a few moments of solitude in nature. It whets my appetite to do it more often, and I’ve already got an idea in mind for the next time I go hiking, and it’ll be somewhere vastly superior, even if it means driving a little bit to get there.
