life lately | march

March was the month that changed my life. For the rest of my life, I'll remember sitting in a crowded movie theater on March 14 and opening the email that said, "Congratulations," and it held my hand and opened my palm and placed into it my whole future, bright and open and so full of possibility. So much of these last few months has left me feeling stunned, feeling almost numb with unbelievability. Nothing that has happened is believable. It's funny, too, because it is believable. There is a part of me - that since the day I sat in the information session for Georgetown's international relations master program last fall and heard a fellow applicant mention she was applying for the Rangel Fellowship, and I played those unfamiliar words over in my head and on my tongue, that knew it was my destiny. Isn't that crazy? I can't believe I'm putting it in words. I daydreamed about that destiny until I laughed out loud alone in bed so many nights I can't count them because I've never been the sort of person to believe in destiny and fate like that. But it felt destined. It felt right through my core. I think now, now that it's becoming reality - now that I'm only 5 short, short, too short days from leaving my beloved job to embark on this crazy adventure that is this Fellowship and grad school in the fall - now that I know the rug isn't going to be pulled out from under me, and it's not all just one of those late night daydreams - I really see now that it wasn't destiny so much as a good fit. A perfect fit. I've dreamed of a life in the foreign service, I've planned it out, I've known for a while that it's in my blood. That kind of unsettled life is what makes me feel the most settled, the most content, the realest version of myself. This was the month of finding out the stuff I'm made of, and it rocked my world, it rippled through me in waves until I had to believe it - I did it. I'm here. My future is mine.

1&2: 2014: The Winter That Never Ended
3, 4, & 5: March was the month of Theo. My brother took him down to stay with my mom at the end of the month, until Zan and I can rent his condo and find a place of our own that allows dogs. And boy, did Theo and I live up every single last day together. We found a new favorite trail. I can't wait until we're reunited. My life is incomplete without him.
6: I moved! Matt and I said goodbye to living together. From a studio apartment where we shared a bed in LA to the slumlord in Bloomingdale all the way to the tree-lined streets of Cleveland Park, we were in it together until we met our matches. I found this note from my mom written on my old bible. I couldn't throw that old thing away because that note. And isn't her handwriting gorgeous?
7&8: Ellie came to visit! I talked a lot about her being there for me when I found out about Rangel. That's another friendship that's for the ages. We meandered around Georgetown after dress shopping for a girlfriend's wedding next fall and found ourselves planted on the giant green adirondack chair.
9: Zan and I celebrated our two year anniversary on Mach 24. Last year I made him a chocolate peanut butter cake; this year we booked a trip to Costa Rica. He's alright, y'all.

a hike in rock creek park + transitions

All of the greatest experiences in my life have required me to adapt. To be uncomfortable until I know nothing else. To find joy and contentment in my initial discomfort. Living abroad was certainly that way. I didn't know how to eat with chopsticks when I arrived in Japan, let alone how to speak to my neighbors in Japanese or even how to work the washing machine. Every day there was a new challenge to tackle. Until suddenly, it all felt commonplace, comfortable, my new normal.

The same with going to school out of state. And taking my first solo trip. It was to Mozambique after a girlfriend bailed on me. I was scared out of my wits when I got to the airport and had to figure out how to get to my hostel. In the end, that trip lit an eternal flame in me for adventuring by myself, and for finding my way into - and out of - crazy situations.

Right now I'm going through it with living with Zander. We've planned and worked for this moment for a year, and now that it's here? It's uncomfortable and strange. How much food do we buy for two people? Do I have to watch another car/fishing show? Do we do our laundry together or separate? I'm so fiercely independent that the walls of that small one-bedroom apartment feel like they just don't have enough air sometimes. But I know with a little patience, and a whole lot of trial and error, this will become my new normal, too.

The same was true with adopting Theo. In fact, maybe more so than any other decision in my life. Adapting to his schedule, planning walks, skipping happy hours, hiring a dog walker, playing endless rounds of fetch, training him -- it didn't come 100% naturally to either of us. But now our routines are so intertwined that I don't need to set alarms anymore because he wakes me up at the exact same time every morning. And without thinking, when I get up from the couch to use the restroom or get a glass of water, I open the back door for him to go outside. As I brush my teeth in the morning, it's second-nature to pour him a cup of food.

If you follow me on Instagram, you might have seen a few of these pictures from a recent hike Zan and I took with Theo. Mr. Man (one of Theo's many, many nicknames*) is spending the summer (or at least a month or two) with my mom in Georgia until Zan and I can rent his place and find one of our own that allows dogs. It's a weird transition. My space feels awkward without Theo there to share it with, to insert himself right at my legs, or put his head on my lap, or to walk by my side in the woods.

It's strange, and it's awkward, but it's the right choice for right now. I thanked my mom for the billionth time the other day for taking care of him when she already has a dog and several cats and a bird (a zoo!) to take care of already, and she said, "This is what family is all about."

Before Theo made the long car ride down to Georgia, we took him on an early spring hike in Rock Creek Park. It looked like a gray day with clouds that threatened rain, but on the trail everything was golden, more like early fall than a persistent winter. It was a fairly easy hike, but Theo laid down in every puddle of mud he found, every pond he could stand in, and chased every stick Zander and I threw. That dog is seriously the joy of my life, you can't tell, right? He and Zander and some golden woods, and I am the luckiest.

A lot of things in my life are in transition right now. I'm leaving my job in less than a month to start an internship on Capitol Hill. I'll be in graduate school full time for two years after that. Zan and I have to move again in a month or two. Zan and I are making big decisions and asking big questions about what our future will look like now that my career is decided (and decidedly nomadic).

Many things right now are up in the air, but I know for a fact that I'll always look back at this time as one of the best of my life, uncomfortable transitions and all.

We hiked the 3 mile Northern Loop in Rock Creek Park. Check out Active Life DC for hike details! 

*Theo's other nicknames: Baby Bear, Pumpkin, Mama's Boy, Little Man, Munchkin Man, and Theodore (generally reserved for VIP guests and/or when he's ignoring me). Never, ever Teddy.

theo and a neighborly snowman

I'm bundled up on my couch in leggings and a Huskers sweatshirt from my college days. I'm watching the rain/sleet/snow come down outside. I just remembered that I re-heated my tea, and it's still in the microwave... an hour later. I think it's time to just make a fresh cup, no?

I had some work to get done this morning, but it only took me an hour... if I subtract the time I spent distracted by Anthony Bourdain's episode of "No Reservations" in Hokkaido, the end of Step Up Revolution, and a goal or two of Olympics hockey. It has been that kind of snow day - slow but going by too quickly. After I met my work deadline, I bundled up, put Theo on his leash, and we braved the snow.

There is a lot of snow in upper northwest DC! I'm a horrible guesser, and it felt like a solid five feet, but it's probably more like 10 inches. The snow comes up to Theo's stomach (kind of adorable), but that dog of mine is fearless and has an insatiable sense of adventure. Sometimes I watch him and think there really is something to that fate thing; we were meant for each other.

I have a few things I should get done - like sort out utilities for this month, put the finishing touches on Zan's Valentine's Day gift, and get ahead on freelance work... but for right this minute I think I'll make that cup of hot tea and finish an episode of House of Cards.

Tomorrow, Zan and I are leaving for a long weekend to...?! I have no idea! He has big plans, and all I know is that we have to be where we have to be at 11:30am. I can't wait to find out what he has up his sleeve. We could be spending the whole day seeing movies in the city, and I'd be the happiest camper. The surprise itself is the magic.

I hope you and yours are safe, warm, and enjoying the snow (if you have any) as much as Theo.

buzzard rock north hike | gw national forest

"When it rains, it pours" is an apropos saying for my last two weeks. My boss has been on paternity leave, putting me in a great position to step up, make bigger decisions, and take on some more responsibility. The other side of that coin is an increased work load with some unexpected, big projects thrown in the mix. After the longer work days, I've been attending the last information sessions at graduate schools, studying for the GRE, fitting in book club, and trying to find time to cook healthy dinners and feel like I'm working to get back in shape. Alongside those factors is the biggest thing going on in my life - my mom has been in the ER three times in the last, well, two weeks. She has had some nagging health issues for years - 3 years to be exact - that have yet to be diagnosed.

I've been this ball of anxious, stressed out energy for these two weeks, trying desperately to shake the internet like an 8-ball until it gives me a diagnosis for my mom. I've called specialists and talked to her repeatedly and I think I have an idea of what's going on with her, but until we know for sure, it's hard to think about anything else.

Every time Zander and I talk recently, he barely gets to say a word. I inundate him with work and my mom's symptoms and my diagnoses, and he listens patiently. And when he gets a few words in, over and over, they have been, "What can we do?"

That "we" holds so much power. It's the promise of, "You're not alone. I'm by your side." It's a powerful word, those two little letters, and it has given me so much comfort.

By this weekend, I needed a break. So Zan and I picked a trail and headed out into Virginia where we could think about nothing except how beautiful the remaining fall colors are.

Before we left, he gave me a thoughtful card that made me well up, writing in it words of encouragement. Before I could even hug him, he handed me a wrapped package, a completely unexpected gift. He had gotten me the very camera I've been eying all year, plotting ways to afford it before we leave for Ecuador next month. He got it weeks ago and toyed with waiting until Christmas but wanted me to have time to learn a few things before our trip. Of course, I cried. And then we excitedly put it all together, charged the battery, and brought it with us into the woods. 

It felt so good to get out of the city and into the brisk, bright daylight. For the first 2 miles of the trail, we didn't see a single other person. Zan and I don't talk much when we hike. When we first started dating, it used to stress me out - is this a bad thing? Do we have nothing to say to each other? Shouldn't we be getting to know each other? Now, I love that it's the way we are. We talk all the time. Hiking is our chance to just be together, listening to the sound of our breath, the wind, and the leaves crunching beneath our feet.

We hiked the 4-mile Buzzard Rock north trail in George Washington National Forest. For the first mile, we strolled through the woods like it was a lazy Saturday. We saw a large buck, and for an instant it was a beautiful sight - the buck in the midst of a blazing red, orange, and yellow forest, and then that moment came to a quick halt when Theo went chasing after him. He came right back, but the poor buck was probably scared.

I took a billion pictures, and like a grandma thought over and over again that maybe hiking in the fall is a dangerous sport - for all the leaves covering the loose rocks (my paranoia after spraining my ankle a few months ago coming out!). But the views were our reward, and in the distance the Blue Ridge Mountains peeked out, and the leaves shone in their late fall glory. We turned the 4 miles into 5 by hiking beyond our turnaround point, until we convinced ourselves there wasn't another great overlook.

By the time we got back to the car, I was famished and more tired than I expected. I devoured a sandwich, feeding Theo bites of bread and turkey, and scanned the pictures on my new camera, smiling from ear to ear.

It's true that when it rains it pours, but every rain storm ends, and the sun always, always comes out again. Sometimes that sunshine is in the form of a we and photographic memories.

if you go...

buzzard rock north hiking upward

distance: 4-5 miles

difficulty: 1-2.5/5 (depending on how far you go)

views: 4

very dog friendly!

friday photo | theo turns 3

The smell hit me before I fully opened the front door. It forced its way out of the house, punching me in the nose during its rushed exit. I took a staggered breath through my mouth, trying to keep composure. Frustration rose up like an erupting volcano within me, too fast for my mind to react, and tears pooled in my eyes. I forced myself inside the house and into my room - the first door on the right - and saw a pool - a wet pool - of dog poop surrounding Theo's crate and creeping through the cracks of my hardwood floors.

Theo was curled up in a ball as far back as he could go, staying away from the mess; it was obvious he'd done everything he could not to soil his bed and his crate. He'd had to go and couldn't hold it. I reached over and unlocked the door, soothing him, encouraging him to come on out. It was the 4th time I'd come home to the same mess, and with resignation, I thought, "I can't do this anymore. I have to take him back."

I retreated to the kitchen for cleaning supplies, and as I started in on the dirty work, tears worked their way down my cheeks. Right then, Zander walked in.

We were still in the number of dates that I could count on both my hands. This new guy that I was dating and really liked walked in to a house that reeked of feces, and there I was on all fours, my gloved hands covered in poop. It was also the first time he'd seen me cry. I kept trying to think of words to say, and none came out.

He took one look at me in my state, Theo huddled in a corner, scared, and said, "Why don't I take Theo for a walk?" And it was gracious and the perfect thing to say and do and gave me time to finish cleaning Theo's mess and myself up, and by the time they came back, Theo was bounding again, and I was clear-eyed.

In truth, I really did consider giving Theo back to K-9 Lifesavers, the organization through which I adopted him. The first few months I was in over my head. He was stubborn, hard to train, and then there was the nonstop diarrhea, that I thought was separation anxiety. It turns out it was parasites, and thank god because we've never had a problem since then.

I kept him, though, thinking, "Just a little longer," and we took an obedience class together, and he was the quickest learner in his class. He wanted to learn and wanted to make me happy and loved his treats. I discovered that hot dogs and bologna are all right to him, but he'll do anything for a squeaky ball.

I started taking him to parks, and I saw that he can jump sky high to catch a ball in his mouth, and he'll bring it right back to me. We went out for hikes, and I struggled so much with him pulling on his leash and I got so frustrated and angry, and then one time Zan said, "Let's take off the leash." And I was terrified he was going to run away or get hurt, but he stayed with us the whole time, and when he'd run ahead, he'd run right back to check on Zander and me and wait until we gave him a pat on the head before he ran back out to sniff some more. Theo was born to be a trail dog.

I know, too, about Theo, that as energetic and rambunctious as he is, he's a total softie and sweetheart on the inside. He doesn't just like to cuddle; he loves to spoon. His bed and his crate are his safe place, and even though I don't need to lock it and I never do anymore, he will always retreat to it to feel comfortable, and at home.

Theo is a bit of a scaredy-dog, but don't tell him I said that. He hates grates and walkways he can see through, and he'll shake and shiver and lay down and put up a fight, but if I need him to cross one, he'll do it with some encouragement. 

Theo's also an adventure-lover. He has come with me on a roadtrip to Georgia, up to Canada, to wineries all around Virginia, and places in between. He loves to cross creeks and streams and he's jsut fine with a little bouldering. He loves the outdoors more than any other place. He's curious and fun-loving and will do anything for a car ride. I'd like to say he gets it from me, but I think we were just meant for each other.

And Theo is a Mama's boy. Zander is his fearless leader and best friend and nobody can play fetch or tug-o-war with Theo like Zan can, but at the end of the day, he will do anything to protect me and can't stand to be far from me.

Theo, ahem, Sir Theodore Prince of Bagle Hounds, turned 3 yesterday, which means we've had 2 whole years together. He's my little man, my protector, my best pal, and the best dog in the whole world.

What can I say?

The best relationships in life are worth dealing with a little bit of shit from time to time.

1. the day i adopted theo 10/10/11 // 2. theo on rehoboth beach // 3. theo in rock creek park

top 5 | niagara falls, ontario, canada

I skipped town for a long, glorious, four-day weekend and crossed the border to the land of hockey, free healthcare, poutine, ice wine, and Robin Sparkles - Canada! Zander and I stayed in the town of Niagara Falls, used AirBnB for the first time, took a billion pictures of the Falls themselves, got soaked on the Maid of the Mist, drank and bought enough wine for an army with a drinking problem, and had a helluva good time. I thought I'd start the barrage of posts about our trip that will surely end up in this space with a new feature - the top five experiences from our trip.

Thanks, labor movement for Monday's Labor Day holiday! (Or, since I was in Canada - Labour Day!)

Seeing Niagara Falls, duhh! 

My "near death selfie" was my most popular picture on Instagram and Facebook all weekend..... and I'm confused at that because molars, ew! I think you can even see a filling back there. But I go with it!

What can I say that hasn't been said about Niagara Falls? The sheer power of the Falls is awe-inspiring. I was transfixed by the color of the water - it's a brilliant emerald with white wake and deep blues and light greens interspersed throughout. When I looked straight down, it made me think that this is what Earth probably looks like from space. It's that spectacularly beautiful and unlike anything I've ever seen.

Zander and I had so much fun at the Falls our first night (and the other times we saw them). We were silly with each other and in our photos and playfully competitive about who was taking the best shots. Okay, I use "playfully" lightly - it was nearly a to-the-death battle.

Hiking at Niagara Glen Nature Reserve 

Niagara Falls is a cheesy tourist town. There are chain restaurants everywhere you look, buffets everywhere you turn (is there anything worse?), souvenir shops are a dime a dozen, and seeing the Falls is a lesson in patience and anger management. You can't hiccup without stepping on a baby, was my experience. But if you want to experience Niagara like a local, there are so many ways to do so. Hiking at the beautiful Niagara Glen Nature Reserve got us away from the crazy, overpriced, crowded areas and on an unmarked trail that led us to the Whirlpool - a swirling vortex of water that mixes dead center between Canada and the US. We bouldered, tossed water that had just come from the Falls on our sweaty faces, and let Theo lead the way with his nose. It was, simply put, the best.

Niagara on the Lake (photo courtesy of Zan!)

I have so much to say about Niagara on the Lake, a small town that sits about 25 minutes from Niagara Falls in the Ontario region. The town has been voted the most beautiful in Canada and the one with the best wines. There are 30 wineries around the periphery and even within the town. We had one of the best meals of our lives at Trius Winery. It started off with a complimentary glass of bone dry sparkling rose, and I almost married it and that winery on the spot. And that was before the truffle fries with homemade ketchup. 

Playing tourist 

I loved being a tourist in Niagara Falls. I loved it so much that when we stumbled across a small souvenir shop near our AirBnB apartment with a close-out sale, I bought a "Canada, Eh!" hat and a Canada fanny pack without thinking twice. I bought them so fast I wondered if I was even really being ironic. And of course, I bought Theo a whole line of Canadian-themed bandanas. When Zander and I discovered Clifton Hill, the tourist destination in Niagara Falls, we embraced it, too. We played laser tag (I won!), raced through a laser maze (Zan won), bought fudge-covered rice krispie treats, and almost - almost - rode the Ferris Wheel. When in Niagara....! (I kept the fanny pack. Oh, please.)

Traveling with Zan 

Zan and I had some pretty intense ups and downs in Mexico, and I'm not just talking about our cases of Montezuma's Revenge. It was our first international trip together, and while we had a blast, we had some kinks to work out. This time around, we did a much better job of compromising. So much so that it rarely ever felt like there were compromises to be made. We were on the same page. At one point, delirious from exhaustion after a 15 hour day and probably as many miles on our feet, I nearly cried with how happy I was to be with this guy. I have a man and a dog who are up for just about any adventure I throw at them, and that feels better being lucky or winning the lottery or other romantical cliches - it feels like I found my match.

catch up on my trip on instagram

and facebook

theo and the three bears | shenandoah sunset hike

"If I'm not at the overlook by 8:15, meet me back at the trail head," I said, glancing down at my phone to check the time - 7:35pm. I had 40 minutes to get just under 2 miles with 300-400 feet of elevation gain. It wouldn't be a difficult hike, but then, I'd never speed hiked before. (I wondered briefly if that could be a new Olympic Sport. Speed walking made the cut, after all...)

Theo and I were meeting Zander at Hogback Overlook, a short distance away from Matthew's Arm Campground in Shenandoah National Park. Our tent was upright and our campfire pit was begging to be blazing and roasting marshmallows. After setting up camp, we rushed over to the Traces trailhead to embark on a sunset hike.

Less than 100 feet up the trail, Zander tweaked his knee, and I convinced him to drive to the overlook, uncork a bottle of wine, and wait for Theo and me to hike there to watch the sun sink down over the Blue Ride Mountains. Reluctantly, he agreed - I'm sure more nervous to leave me to navigate directions than concerned about any danger befalling us.

He might have had reason to worry...

Theo and I picked up our pace and reached the first trail market (0.4 miles) in barely more than a handful of minutes. I reached for the trail map, realizing I had nowhere to reach - I hadn't brought anything with me but my phone. Theo looked at me quizzically, as if to say, "Weren't you the one that thought this through, Mom?" Good question, Theo. We had no flashlight and no map. I knew it was a simple hike - straight up Traces Trail with one turn on the Appalachian Trail. The sun was falling to my right side, so I assumed I would turn right on the AT to cross over Skyline Drive into Hogback Overlook. No big deal. We had this.

The Appalachian Trail was 0.8 miles ahead, and it was already almost 7:45. I ran through the worst case scenarios: we had no reception, but if something major happened, I could make an emergency call. I could use my phone as a flashlight if we were forced to turn around to meet Zan at the trail head. I could yell really, really loudly, and hope my voice carried through the trees? Scratch that one.

With my mind full of what-ifs and how-would-I-handle's, I almost tripped over Theo, haunches raised, blocking the trail with one paw in the woods. He emitted a low growl, and I stopped to listen. I called his name, trying to calm him down - he goes nuts after squirrels and rabbits and anything that moves. But this was different - he usually chases animals, but in this instance he was completely still, hunkered down, eyes trained in one direction. I followed his gaze until my eyes rested on three black bears running on all fours in the distance.

I thought I'd gone crazy. I'd never seen a bear - not even ONCE - in the wild, and I've hiked in Shenandoah numerous times and worked for two summers in the San Bernardino Mountains in California - bear country if there ever was one. They had to be dogs? Another animal? But my eyes weren't lying. Their shoulders were too broad to be any other animal, and they were coated in thick, black fur. These were bears. Fascinated, I watched them run off; likely, they heard and smelled Theo and me and ran right away.

We continued on the trail, and I became even more concerned about the time. Even so, I couldn't help but stop for a second to admire and snap a few photos of the golden light angling through the trees, creating geometrical patterns and prisms on the forest floor.

Theo and I reached the Appalachian Trail trailhead soon after, and I confidently led us to the right, certain the overlook would be a short distance ahead. I gave Theo a quick high paw - we were going to make it! Another couple of hundred feet up the trail, Theo bounded up huge boulders on our right side. I followed him up to a trail overlook with an open, clear view of the sun setting directly in front of us. I admired the layers of the mountains, and the way the sun's fading light shone in between them.

Minutes before deadline, Theo and I emerged from the trail onto Skyline Drive. I saw an overlook sign and bounded closer to it. Rattlesnake Overlook. Where was Hogback? I had no idea where we were. 

I still didn't have enough cell service. Without a flash light or a map, I was nervous to retrace our steps on the trail in the fast approaching nightfall. I navigated Theo to the overlook and tried to flag down a car - hopefully someone could point us in right direction. I waved frantically to the first car I saw. As it slowed down and pulled over, Zander and I locked eyes, and our silence spoke volumes, something along the lines of, "Holy shit, thank god it's you!"

Zan had turned around right at 8:15 to head back to the trail head per our plan. I should have turned left at the Appalachian. Thankfully he needed to go around Skyline drive to the right, passing me on the way back to Matthew's Arm. He, too, had grown nervous and was immensely relieved to find us on the road.

I was only a mile or so away from the trail head on Skyline Drive and a little more to the campground, but hiking solo at sunset proved to be an adventure, bears and all. Next time, I'll bring a map and a flashlight. But man, that sunset was worth it.

hiking overall run falls in shenandoah national park

Within the first mile, the rain came. It dripped on us slowly and steadily as we checked our steps on the open trail. A few hundred yards ahead, panting from the gradual incline, we entered a tree cover. The forest spread out around and over us. The trail rested damp and soft beneath us, pulling our shoes in and resisting our steps up. I heard the rain, soft and whispering, landing gently on leaves and rolling down their crooked edges before landing on my hair, my shoulders, my shoes. I tilted my face toward the branches above, spotting only slivers of the sky far beyond. I stuck my tongue out like a kid in a snow storm, and watched the trajectory of a raindrop before it landed squarely in my mouth. Theo shook himself off, stuck his tongue out, too, and ran again ahead of us, looking back only as if to say, "Aren't you coming, Mom?"

Overall Run Falls holds the title of the tallest waterfall in Shenandoah National Park. Like the majority of Shenandoah's waterfalls, you reach it by hiking down. Depending on where you start, the trail clocks in between 4.8 - 6.5 miles roundtrip. It can be done as an out and back or a loop hike. I always prefer loops so that's the option we chose. The first several miles vacillate between gradual decline and steep decline, with the final .5 mile to the falls themselves being a series of rock stairs and very steep decline. Zander and I joked, well, this'll be fun to climb back up. But really - it kind of was. That's twisted, right?

What started out as a planned 6.5 mile hike turned into an a nearly 8.5 mile hike. We went the wrong way and ended up here in Fern Gully. All in all, it was a pretty detour.

Zander recently saved a baby bird in my backyard. In the middle of an intense game of fetch with Theo, he yelled out to me inside, asking me to quickly bring him gloves. I tossed him a pair, scared he found a dead... or alive snake (it's always snakes with me). I watched him sprint to the edge of the yard, gently reach down and ever so carefully lift something up. He stood listening for several moments, his head cocking from side to side. A cacophony of chirps hit my ears at the same time they did his. The birds grew increasingly louder until Zan figured out from which direction they came. He walked that way and set the baby bird in his gloved palms on the grass above the rock wall at the edge of the yard.

He saved another baby bird on our hike. This time he spotted it on the trail and asked me to move Theo out of the way. His sniffing scared the poor thing. Zan put the little guy in the palm of his hand and waited again to hear his parents cry out. I hope they both made it home safe. And this tangential story is just one of the billion reasons I love that man.

We backtracked a mile and found the correct turnoff for Overall Run Falls. Within that mile, the indecisive skies finally chose sunshine, and the temperature rose 10 degrees in the next hour. The sun shone, light filtered through the trees, and by the time we reached the falls, we wished we could swim in them.

After 2+ miles hiking down and crossing a few streams, we arrived at the lower falls. There are two waterfalls on the Overall Run Falls trail - the lower and upper. When you near the falls, a trail sign point you in the right direction. At that point, the lower falls is within .2-.3 miles. Hike down another .2-.3 to see the Overall Run.

 

I handed Theo's leash and my water bottle to Zander and walked toward the rock cliff at Overall Run Falls. At the edge, I folded down until I was on all fours. Finding natural handholds, and gauging the distance from the cliff edge to the rock platform immediately underneath, I slowly descended. It was only a span of 10 feet, at most, but it felt like 40 in that moment. A small rush of adrenaline ran through me. Maybe this is a hint of what it's like to rock climb. I squatted down on the ledge, shrubbery poking at my biceps and thighs and took picture and after picture, trying to capture the falls and the mountains beyond. I thought briefly about jumping - the pool beneath the falls was right there! I could see it! Beneath 100 feet of rocks! I climbed back up, Zan let out a deep breath, Theo licked me hello, and we unpacked our picnic lunch, eating with a view.

Trail directions and tips 
 
PARK: Matthew's Arm Campground - the overflow lot

TRAIL DIRECTIONS: Take the blue-blazed Traces Trailhead in the overflow parking lot for .6 miles to the Tuscarora-Overall Run trail intersection. Make a left on this trail. (We made a right, and that will take you to Hogback Overlook - you can also start your hike here, if you prefer. It's at mile marker 21.1.) Until this point, the hike is wooded, and dense with a gradual incline. The falls are 2.8 miles away once you veer onto Tuscarora-Overall Run trail. You begin to descend into the valley at this point. At 1.1 miles, you'll come to another trail intersection for Matthews Arms. Continue straight/right to reach the falls. At 2.7 miles, you'll reach another intersection - again, continue straight. The falls are .5 miles at this point. The trail veers steeply downhill; there are wooden steps for a section. At .2 miles on the left is the lower falls. Continue another .2-.3 miles down to see the large falls on your left.

Hike back up the way you came. After you ascend the .5 miles back up and reach the trail intersection, head right toward Matthew's Arm. At the second intersection in another 2 miles, head left for Matthew's Arm. Before the second intersection is a fast-moving stream and small falls (when there's water). Turn right at the final intersection back onto Traces Trail and retrace your steps .6 mile to the parking lot.

TIPS: The falls are best after a heavy rain or in the spring. In the summer months, the falls run dry. The view is spectacular year round. Winter months, when the water has frozen, is also a good time to see the falls.

RATING: We loved the falls and the view, and the woods were pretty for a while. I'm glad we hiked it and saw the tallest falls, but I'm not gunning to do it again. I give it a 6 out of 10. 

A LONGER VERSION: Combining Overall Run with Beecher Ridge from Hiking Upward

And now... more pictures.