We saw some cool things though, including lots of fungi of various types, none of which I could identify. And what the heck are these weird looking things?
They look like odd jelly plants. I'm almost afraid to google to find out what they are.
It's been three years since we were last there and I'd forgotten how much I love Natural Bridge. I'd also forgotten how steep it is to get to the bridge, and I'd conveniently ignored just how out of shape I am these days. Seriously out of shape. Susan and the girls just breezed up the inclines, I stopped on the pretext of taking photographs at least once every three minutes. But with a combination of rest stops and water I eventually made it to the top, poured myself through the aptly named Fat Man's Squeeze and collapsed in a heap on the top of the bridge. As you can see, I was indeed a hot, sweaty mess. Susan, on the other hand, barely broke into a ladylike glow.
So what do you do when you're at the top of Natural Bridge? Well, you can admire the scenery...
..or you can get out your knitting. I chose the knitting.
I'm knitting on a test sweater for Sweater Girl Knits and was working on it on the drive over. It seemed perfectly natural to pack it in the backpack and take it with us. At least, it did to me. I did get some odd looks though.
Apparently, around 40 people every year fall from Natural Bridge. That's about two a week for every comfortable hiking week (assuming that season extends from April to October, roughly speaking). That's very believable, judging by the number of hyped-up adolescents leaping around on the precipice. It made me very nervous actually. In fact, I was just a bit grumpy to find so many people up there. There's a skylift that carries the less able (or lazy) people from the forest floor up to the top of the bridge which accounts, I think, for the considerable population that were up there this morning--mostly wearing flip-flops and other inappropriate footwear. I'm torn about that. Certainly, the skylift allows access to people who otherwise would not be physically capable of the mile-long, steep hike, but it also attracts people who simply have no real respect for their surroundings, who don't fully appreciate the danger and who carve their name into the stone and drop litter off the side. Anyway. Grump over.
Post-hike, there's only one other place to go. Miguel's Pizza.
The pizza isn't as good as Susan's homemade pizza but it's incredibly welcome after three hours hiking up and down a mountain. Besides, Miguel's is just such a ramshackle, crazy place that you can't help but love it.
So, with pizza in our bellies (actually, I had a rice bowl instead) and sweat dried on our skin we came home and did the last thing that simply had to be done--took a nap.
