There were two surprises, and I can't decide which was greater:
1) That we had lived in Worcester for eight years (12 for me, counting college) without any knowledge of the Cascades Trails System.
2) That my 5-year-old daughter could be the model of resilience and bravery in the face one scary-steep hill, numerous rambunctious dogs, and being forced to hike sans pants for most of the afternoon.
A friend who heard about our weekend hiking jaunts suggested we check out the Cascades, a series of trails in Worcester's northwest corner managed by the
Greater Worcester Land Trust comprising Boynton Park, Cascades West, Cascades East, Cascades Park and -- the main attraction --
Cascading Waters. We first headed over there on Easter Sunday, but our hike was quickly aborted after Jordyn got a traumatic leg injury, aka a scratch. Several weeks later, we managed a hike in earnest, accompanied by my sister, aka Auntie Massachusetts-California-Massachusetts-California-Massachusetts, who was thrilled to be outside on this glorious spring day after being welcomed home last week by so much New England rain.
Our plan was to park at the Cascading Waters entrance, check out the falls, and then follow a loop that led along the Cascades, the Silver Spring and Meadow Ridge trails.
We were lured by the sound of falling water almost as soon as we hit the trail. After a short jaunt by a stream and across a road, we were greeted by the breathtaking sight of water tumbling down dozens of rocks (left, the BlackBerry photo doesn't quite do justice to the steepness). It's what we had come to see, and we were awestruck. From there was a daunting hill leading to the trail heads. A sign posted on a tree warned hikers that this hill was closed due to erosion, but we decided to tackle it nonetheless. (Heeding the sign would've meant approaching the trails from a different entrance and prolonging our start.) Needless to say, it didn't take long before we discovered the sign was -- as most warnings are -- there for a reason. This hill was steep, slippery and scary, with plenty of rocks, roots, and both slippery dry and slimy wet leaves to impede any climber's efforts. Arlen and Jordyn went first, and made it up OK, she holding his hand and seemingly undaunted by the steep drop behind her. Coffee cups in our hands made for slower going for my sister and me; we clung to branches and grabbed hold of roots to steady ourselves as we made our way up. Finally, we reached the top. Glancing behind me (yikes!), I wondered how I -- how WE -- had managed that.
Moving on! We found ourselves on a lovely, easy-to-follow trail. The birds were singing, the brooks were babbling ... leisurely hiking at its best. After we'd been going for about 15 minutes, Jordyn announced she had to pee. No matter; I had gone in the woods a little while back, and I assured her she could do the same. Unfortunately, even though she's a voracious reader, she hasn't yet gotten around to "How to Pee in the Woods," and she soaked her pants. I assumed she'd insist on leaving, but no! She was perfectly willing to shed her pants and hike in her underwear with her hoodie tied around her waist.
As we descended deeper into the woods, it did start to feel a little chilly. Jordyn did mention her legs were cold, but at no point did she ask to turn around. Nor did she bat an eyelash when several of the dogs we met on the trail slobbered all over her. (My sister and I, on the other hand, pitched a minor fit when one large canine deposited copious amounts of slime on our pants -- ironic, since we are both basset hound lovers, and they don't come much more slobbery than that.)
After another half hour or so, Jordyn's pants had nearly dried. It was then that my thumb accidentally punctured the cup I was holding, spraying Dunkin' Donuts coffee all over the pants and soaking them anew. At this point Jordyn was so used to be being pants-less that it didn't much matter.
After about an hour and a half, we stopped to ask passers-by how far we were from the next trail. Turns out we had more ahead of us than we realized at this point, so we didn't end up completing the loop as planned. By this point Jordyn's pants were nearly dry and she was relieved to have them for her now-chilly legs. As we backtracked along the trail we came on, we bided our time looking for things we had passed amusing ourselves with silly songs. Well, I did. Pretty soon, we heard the sounds of the falls and knew we had made it.
As for getting back down that crazy hill, each of us had our own method. Let's just say I "fell" a bit "behind." (Sara)
