I recently visited the Rocky Bluff Trail in Makanda, Illinois. This is a 1.8 mile gem of a trail, featuring two waterfalls, a scenic creek, and lots of mossy rock formations. I had waited patiently through two days of heavy rain to see these waterfalls. Unfortunately, the two days of rain only amounted to a slight trickle of water falling over the rock ledges. The second waterfall, slightly farther along the trail, only had a drip. It was still a pretty sight, as you can see here, though everything was very slippery.
I was hiking alone, wearing my beloved hiking boots, and having a nice time with my camera. There was no one else out in the woods with me, except for the guy about my age, who was ambling up the trail towards me, also sporting hiking boots and a camera. When we were just mere feet away from each other, I slipped on a wet rock and landed flat on my back in the mud. The stoic male hiker decided not to acknowledge this. I gracefully stood up, took a few more steps, and proceeded to land on another wet rock, sliding and again finding myself on my back, in the mud, for the second time within thirty seconds. The man had obviously witnessed the entire fiasco, yet he just walked on without speaking or even making eye contact with me. Well, that was awkward. I brushed off the mud and walked on in solitude. I kept my balance the entire rest of the way, but there was no one around to see or congratulate me.
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