The Spectacular

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My guidebook told me that at the Natural Bridge Viewpoint the trail at the south end of the parking lot would take me to a spectacular viewpoint. I grabbed my camera and backpack, and set out. I like “spectacular”.

The trail started out fine, then it narrowed. Then it split. I stood for a moment, then decided the most likely way would be toward the sound of the ocean. Although, with these trails, the most likely way is not always the right way—I’d found they can meander in ways you’d never guess, they can go on for miles, they can dwindle to nothing, or they can exceed your wildest expectations. And the signage generally sucks. I thought I did well to actually carry my Moon travel guide with me in the car, but in this case, it sucked, as well.

I set out walking toward the ocean sound. The trail got narrower. And narrower still.

I came to a place where a tree had fallen, and it was a very close call as to whether to crawl over or under. “Under” was my choice. When the trail started to go down a steep hill with sharp switchbacks and shifty footing, I had second, then third thoughts.

A lone male came toward me, looked at me curiously, then we politely squeezed past each other.

The trail got steeper. Tree roots served as stair steps, and I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into, and even if I was on the right trail for The Spectacular. I wondered if I should just give it up and go home and watch TV.

A group of four men appeared at a section where the trail widened.

“I really need to know it’s spectacular down there…” I told them.

They all laughed and assured me that it was. The trail split yet again, and they said that the left fork, where they’d just come from, was very pretty, and the trail dead-ended there on the cliffs. One of them pointed to the right fork of the trail, and said that one got really steep, “and pretty sketchy”, and led to the Natural Bridge—you could actually walk across. If you were brave, or stupid, enough.

I thanked them for the info, moved aside to let them pass.

Then took the right fork. It got sketchy indeed, really quickly: steeper and steeper. By the time I got in sight of the bridge, which was really spectacular, I was basically crawling down a very steep and slippery hill, clinging to tree roots and listening to the waves crashing below.

A young couple was crawling up. As they got near, I called out, “This is a helluva trail.”

The girl said, “It’s not really a trail at all!”

The guy said, “It gets pretty nuts down there.”

The girl asked, “You’re alone?”

The guy didn’t ask, “And aren’t you, like, in your forties?”

We all looked at each other for a moment, then they crawled past, wished me well, and crawled up the steep hillside. I sat for a moment, then crawled down, clinging to roots and sliding dirt for dear life. Fuck you very much, kids.

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Photos

The Spectacular
The view from the trail at the Natural Bridge Viewpoint on Oregon's southern coast.

Comments

[david warren]

What?!
I re-read what I thought was a mis-type, but those peoples' rudness IS spectacular. They sound like my Mother.

[Madalo]

But, no...
I think I didn't write this correctly, if their reservations about a lone, not-young woman taking on this trail comes across as rude! They were all quite polite--they just looked politely dubious. And that, of course, spurred me on to actua;;y go further than I might have otherwise. MDL