Golden Ear Lake

I was wet cold, relieved, and just had the scare of my life. It was the summer of 2014 and my family and I had nothing to do. So my mom found a place to hike near our house off the Internet. My sister and I were leaping around on the furniture because we’d never gone hiking before. In my mind I thought of being in the wilderness with challenges like crossing rivers and climbing things. But none could be said until we got there. My sister repeatedly asked where we were going until we passed the gate to Golden Ears Park.

As we cruised through the parking lot my sister and I were urging our parents to drive faster. I groaned and frowned when I say the trail. It was generally a boring walk along the river, but I would rather be doing math practise than this. The gigantic rock we climbed and slid on did little to lift our spirits. Then, faintly, and rising in volume as we walked on, was the sound of rushing water. Not like the murmuring of the stream but the splashing and stirring of a waterfall. We increased our pace until my sister and I were running. What we saw was a gigantic boulder, and from the top flowed a waterfall. The waterfall was at least 10 meters, enough of a drop to

When we reached the top my dad quickly pulled out his phone and took some photos of the yellow, green and blue waters. The lake was an exact miniature replica of the lake at Yellowstone National Park, but the waterfall was drawing my interest. I climbed down the boulder, grabbed a handful of sticks, climbed up, and started floating down the falls. From the lake emerged a stream which slid gently down into a slight drop into a churning pool and plunged suddenly down the falls into a frothy mass of foam and water. I was watching this process, enjoying them getting obliterated, when my foot slipped on the eroded rock. I dropped the sticks and slid down the rock, trying to get a hold. Then I saw a ledge, a crack in the rock and lunged, but it was too