Driving through sheets of rain I just barely made out a sign on the roads left, “Nelson Falls.” I stopped. Through the windshield I saw a rushing stream. After a few minutes debating I decided on walking to the falls.
I covered my top with my 14 year old red, Patagonia Grid Stop, Gore-tex Jacket and zipped it tight. Walking to the bridge I noted, “The water is moving fast. It’s almost to the bottom of the bridge.”
Wondering if the water could rise to the bridge and wash it away I considered not taking the short walk to the falls then decided I could bash through the bush to the highway to cross on the highway bridge if things become worse.
Crossing the foot bridge I took a couple seconds to admire the swirling, muddy waters before continuing to the falls. Getting closer to the falls I found the stream in full flood, fanning out across the alluvium.
A few minutes later I heard the tell-tale sounds of a waterfall – the sound of rumbling water. Next I felt a new sound. Rocks tumbling in the streambed. The ground shook. I kept walking.
I was getting close. I could feel the breeze coming down the canyon. Then I felt the mist on my forehead. A little closer and my legs were getting wet. Water was dripping down my face. The waterfall’s mist became so thick I had difficulty seeing.
Turning around I tucked my camera under the jacket then turned sideways and kept moving into the deepening mist. My organic cotton shorts were absorbing water. They radiated a chill to the skin below. I needed swimmers or a wetsuit.
I almost made it to the first observation deck. Further up stream I could see the railing of the second observation platform but the deck was underwater. The water was halfway up the railing.
I gave in. It wasn’t worth trying to get closer. The upstream horizon was tannin stained white. I allowed the wind and spray to push me back downstream. The water had risen. Part of the boardwalk which had been above the water was now ankle deep in water.
Further downstream, a streamside observation platform was 20 centimetres under water. At the final bridge I stopped. Water was pushing against the bridge. Splashes were reaching the hand rail. I considered bush bashing to the highway.
Getting closer I touched the railing.
No vibrations.
That was a good sign.
I analyzed the lay of the bridge. It was pushed solidly against trees, logs and shrubs on both ends. If it were to move it would have to take out the trees on the shore. It sat on beams I figured could withstand the stream’s pressure.
Looking upstream I didn’t see any logs moving downstream. I inched up to the bridge then ran. Reaching the middle a splash jetted straight up my right leg soaking whatever had not been saturated by the waterfall’s mist a few minutes earlier.
Reaching the other side I looked back. The bridge was still there. Back at the vehicle I peeled off the wet layers then scrambled into the front seat and fired up the heater. A few minutes later I warmed and merrily on my way – pursuing my dream – Sunshine.
