Last weekend I went up to Devil's Lake to do some serious hiking. Well, as serious as you can get when there are no real mountains in the midwest. And without going overnight, because the idea of an overnight hike sounds amazing, but I think the reality would suck considering how much I hate camping.
Nancy was supposed to come with me, but she had to cancel at the last minute for totally valid reasons. (Don't worry, Nancy, I promise I'm not mad.) So I went alone, and I think maybe it was better that way. When I was climbing up the west bluff (which totally kicked my butt for some reason), I could stop and rest and not worry about slowing someone down. Conversely, when I started listening to the Ting Tings on my iPod and was super energized, I didn't have to worry about someone slowing me down.
Here are a few of the views from the west bluff and a bad picture of me:
The east bluff was a lot more interesting and higher than the west bluff (but for some reason, easier to climb). Some of the views made you feel like you were on a small mountain.
My pictures don't do it justice; you can't tell how high up I really was.
After all that going up, I had to get down somehow. I knew there were some easier trails, but of course, I wanted to take one of the exciting ones. But I definitely wasn't expecting this:
I thought to myself, "This is where I'm going to die." Because I'd climbed on a few of these rocks earlier in the day, and they are slippery. Way too slippery for sneakers. It was kind of funny; everyone was worried about me hiking alone, but that wasn't the problem- it was my inappropriate footwear. There were a lot of people rock climbing there, so plenty of people would have seen me fall to my death. But it was actually a lot of fun (of course) because of that element of risk. I didn't fall till I got to the bottom; I got overconfident on the last few rocks and was kind of hopping from rock to rock and fell on my butt. Glad no one saw. As soon as I finished I wanted to go again, but there was no way I was hiking back up that cliff.
So Devil's Lake was great, and I can't wait to go back and try the other trails.
Nancy was supposed to come with me, but she had to cancel at the last minute for totally valid reasons. (Don't worry, Nancy, I promise I'm not mad.) So I went alone, and I think maybe it was better that way. When I was climbing up the west bluff (which totally kicked my butt for some reason), I could stop and rest and not worry about slowing someone down. Conversely, when I started listening to the Ting Tings on my iPod and was super energized, I didn't have to worry about someone slowing me down.
Here are a few of the views from the west bluff and a bad picture of me:
The east bluff was a lot more interesting and higher than the west bluff (but for some reason, easier to climb). Some of the views made you feel like you were on a small mountain.
My pictures don't do it justice; you can't tell how high up I really was.
After all that going up, I had to get down somehow. I knew there were some easier trails, but of course, I wanted to take one of the exciting ones. But I definitely wasn't expecting this:
I thought to myself, "This is where I'm going to die." Because I'd climbed on a few of these rocks earlier in the day, and they are slippery. Way too slippery for sneakers. It was kind of funny; everyone was worried about me hiking alone, but that wasn't the problem- it was my inappropriate footwear. There were a lot of people rock climbing there, so plenty of people would have seen me fall to my death. But it was actually a lot of fun (of course) because of that element of risk. I didn't fall till I got to the bottom; I got overconfident on the last few rocks and was kind of hopping from rock to rock and fell on my butt. Glad no one saw. As soon as I finished I wanted to go again, but there was no way I was hiking back up that cliff.
So Devil's Lake was great, and I can't wait to go back and try the other trails.
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