I'm still a guest at the most unhaunted hotel in America. If it is haunted it would be by the very polite ghost of Laura Ashley or else by someone who really likes foofy wallpaper and teacups. I knew going in that this wasn't the most likely place for a spooktacular occurrence, but I came prepared nevertheless. I brought a book about a haunted house with me to fuel my imagination and I have two roommates who I can feed to ghosts while I make my getaway should anything untoward happen. Sorry girls. I don't have to run fast, just faster than you.
I waited in keen anticipation to meet the things that go bump in the night, but so far the only spooky noises have come from the housekeeping crew that is vigorously cleaning the room above me and the only thing going bump in the night is my hip against the bedstead in the dark. So on the whole, not very scary. But, I did get to go on adventure.
My roommates and I piled into Princess Kia and drove down the mountainside in search of a swinging bridge that we had seen signs for coming up. During our search we made many stops to clamber over rocks and roots like goats and take pictures of the beautiful water and scenery. Sometimes we went together, sometimes someone stayed behind. On one such occasion I had scrambled down to the rapids to take pictures. My roommates were scattered looking at other things but always visible. I filled up my photo card and hiked back up to the car, but when I got there, my fellow adventurers were no where to be seen. There was just me, the lonely mountain and the car, which of course was locked. I looked over the ledge back down to the water to see if I could spy them. Nothing. I looked in the car and around the car. No go. No cars were passing us on the mountain road and my first thought was "this is how horror movies start." Three ladies out for a trip, telling no one where they are going. Nothing happens, nothing happens, and then two of the three disappear.
I checked the waters edge down below again, climbed halfway down and looked, but there was still no sign of them. Calling out was pointless because the roar of the water was so loud that unless you were right next to the person you wouldn't hear anything. So I climbed back up for another look and still no one. What was an adventurer to do? I went and sat in the shade to wait and eventually they showed back up again, but there were a few tense moments. If it had been a movie I would have been designated the "final girl" Had my friends run into a mountain lion? Perhaps zombies had crawled out from under the rocks to sip some brains. Maybe crazed mountain men had absconded with them and driven off in their rusted out truck. Really, anything could have happened. I was glad to see them safe.
So, after all those scenic stops and a brief interlude at a closed campsite we were losing hope in finding our bridge. We decided that incredibly intrepid adventurers such as ourselves needed ice cream and we decided to pack it in and head back to the non haunted hotel. But, as we were heading home, I spied the very bridge we were looking for out of the corner of my eye. There it was in all its glory, stretched out on steel cables and wood, hanging above the moving water below. We were so excited. I couldn't wait to cross.
Though I wish it had been longer, the bridge was everything I had hoped it would be. It swung a bit when you walked out on it. Some of the steel bars weren't quite bolted in all the way and once you got to the other side, you were met with forest and rail tracks that wound off into the distance. It was great. Once my roommates had made it back to the other side I ventured out on it by myself and jumped up and down, shook it from side to side and let my giggles roll down the canyon. I felt very Indian Jones out there in the middle. Granted, my bridge wasn't made of rope, had less of a drop, and there were no alligators, or crazed Indian cult leaders were pursuing me, but a girl can still dream.
We were all very excited to have found our adventure. We did get our congratulatory ice cream and now I am curled by the fire awaiting the night when possibly I can coax a ghost or two out to play. All in all yet another wonderful October day.
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