Bridal Veil Falls, Revisited

Over the past several years I have made a priority of visiting the places I grew up and pushing myself to look at these places from new perspectives, pushing myself out of my routine and comfort zone. Initially I was hesitant to try new things or try old things with a fresh perspective. I felt my prior experience could sufficiently inform my present. I discovered these new experiences weren't replacing my old ones, but enriching them.

Growing up in and near Vancouver, B.C. there are so many opportunities to get close to nature that you can take them for granted. I have so many memories of driving from British Columbia's Southern Interior back home to the Fraser Valley after visiting family. I remember all of the signs along the Trans-Canada Highway vividly. Despite passing it at least one hundred times, I only stopped at Bridal Veil Falls twice--once with my parents and once on a school field trip.

On this day in September 2017, the weather was classic Pacific Northwest. A good soaking rain fell for hours and the convertible top on our rental car had to stay up. I wanted to stop at the falls but also I didn't really want to get wet. I kept mentally pushing off the decision to pull off the highway for x more miles or x more minutes. At the last possible second I definitively decided that we would go. It was just rain, just water coming from the sky. If we got soaked we could get dry again.

Grudgingly, I got out of the car and my husband and I started up the steep trail to the falls. The rain was relentless. But after a few minutes, the hour or so of agonizing uncertainty was forgotten. I was listening to the forest. I was reconciling fond memories of being a kid with the present reminder of how splendid the rain forest is.

The falls were more beautiful than I had remembered. The memories I had stored turned out to have little to do with the falls but the events surrounding the visits. This time, I would hold onto the memory of the falls, the smell of the forest, the sound of the falls tumbling down the mountain, and the rain drops bouncing off of leaves and branches.

Truthfully, while I know I must've been soaked when we got back to the car and I can picture myself changing shoes in the parking lot, chasing the experience with a Teen Burger, onion rings, and a root beer a little further down the road in Hope seemed to effectively erase those frustrations.