Everyday Adventures, Hiking the Niagara Gorge

Last week I went on an unexpected hike, with some unexpected people, going on an unexpected adventure. 

I was busy. My to do list said I shouldn’t go, but the desperate autumn grasps drew me in as I knew their grips would not hold on much longer. 

We went to the Niagara Gorge: a canyon created from the glacial recession that separated lands with forceful rapids that have taken many lives that have dared to test it. The sheer force of the falls that feeds the river is enough to destroy itself from existence.

I am mystified how a beautiful blue lifeless body can amass so much harm to those who get too close, warning us of its danger from the encapsulating sounds of the rapids crashing against one another, yet provide me with so much comfort and temptation that lusts me to feel the water rushing against my skin. Fret not, as temptation did not overcome me on this day. I’ve already had one near death experience due to a waterfall this year so I didn’t need to test my chances with another. Instead, I climbed the rocks that diverted the powerful stream and just sat. I sat and studied every wake: fists combatting one another, acknowledge each other’s strengths, and then continuing on together downstream. 

But it was not just the water that soothed my soul, but the company and adventure that came along with it. I was invited on the hike late the previous night by a friend who I typically do not receive invites from. The invite seemed like a spur of the moment thing to match my spur of the moment acceptance. The stagnancy of seeing the same faces and going to the same places dissolved to reveal new reasons to laugh and new paintings to add to my gallery of memories. 

Lastly, I saw the people across the waves. People who sing a different anthem while only being yards away. The Niagara River actually is the border between two countries: Canada and the United States. For most people in my town, going to Canada was synonymous with going to the next town over for dinner. A 15 minute drive could bring us to the border of the nation our passports displayed as we entered a land by a different name. I saw the people across the waves, and I waved as I remembered when the bridge wasn’t closed. Thinking about it now, I cannot be sure if I was waving hello or waving goodbye to my Canadian connection.