The Tennessee Traveler would like to impart some painfully gained wisdom for all who enjoy hiking Tennessee’s great outdoors: Bring A Walking Stick.
It’s common sense advise too easily forgotten and ignored, with potentially dire consequences.
I speak from experience.
A friend and I were hiking the Caney Fork River gorge above the Great Falls at Rock Island State Park. We entered near the Cotton Mill, followed the Old Mill trail down, then broke off the main trail for a path leading down to gorge and river. There, we found our way to a narrow break where we could leap from rock to rock over the water, and pick up the Downstream Trail on the other side.
It’s an easy hike, tracing the bluffs, down the stairs by the power plant, then through the woods, with several great views of the wide falls as it cascades from the opposite bluff. From there, the trail continues to the famed “Blue Hole,” a renowned fishing spot.
Did I mention my hiking buddy brought a walking stick that day, but I’d forgotten mine at home? Keep that in mind.
The return hike was pleasant and uneventful. This time, though we followed the trail beneath the bluff all the way back to where the river back fills a wide pool, sort of a lagoon. Our intention was to find an alternate way across the river, but discovered it was too wide, deep and roaring there. So, we backtracked for the trail, making our way around that pool.
As I stepped forward from a pocket between rocks my foot got caught, I lost my balance and fell forward.
THWACK!!!
The right side of my face met the limestone shelf at full force. I never lost consciousness, but as I reached up I expected to feel broken pieces of my skull. Instead, only a spot of blood, a point already forming below my temple, my jaw hurt and an intense headache. Worse, though, I saw everything double, not vertically but horizontally, making it very difficult to discern my way forward.
With my friend’s help and a walking stick pulled from the debris, I slowly made my way back along the trail and across the river. My head throbbing, I got down to crawl as needed, but still had to manage that leap. He went first, braced himself, then extended his stick for me to grab while I maneuvered along the edge of the rock. Then I jumped, grabbed that stick mid-air and he pulled me over.
I made it! The rest of our hike out was routine was routine but slow. Within the hour we were out of there, and I was driving myself home with an intense headache.
I stubbornly suffered through the night, but next morning I headed for the doctor, fearing there could be bleeding on my brain.
A CT scan revealed no blood or concussion but extensive damage—nine fractures—to the right side of my face. My maxillary sinus was also shattered, front and rear. The doctor was shocked I felt to real pain.
I’m recuperating now with a new mission: remind every hiker to bring and use a walking/hiking stick wherever and whenever it makes sense.
That “third leg” would have made all the difference, and easily prevented my fall.
Please, learn from my mistake.
