I recently returned to Paris Mountain State Park for the first time in over two years. That was the place I went to almost every day years ago. But once I began to expand my hiking choices, and once I got interested in landscape photography, I could see that the photo opportunities were greater elsewhere.
My trip was primarily to renew my SC State Park’s annual passport. They can be bought online but there’s no way to get the senior discount (which cuts the cost in half) without visiting a park office. Paris Mountain is the closest State Park for me. Oddly, I remembered incorrectly that it took an hour to get there. As it turns out, in a little over half an hour I was at the closed Park gate. My intention was to get there at opening time; missed that by almost half an hour.
Not being one to want to sit in my car for 30 minutes, I drove around the park area, through neighborhoods, up and down roads, until 8 o’clock came. I knew that the park office did not open until 9 AM, and so I brought my camera along with me to kill some time.
The sun was still very low in the sky, but high enough to light up portions of the lake. The greenery of the trees reflecting off the clear water of Lake Placid was appealing to me, especially when I first viewed it through the trees, as I stood on the trail, headed toward the dam.
I guess that day was just not a good day for me, somehow. I found considerable difficulty in walking the trail around Lake Placid. I walked that trail many times before and don’t recall having a problem. But I felt very unsure with my footing, especially as I walked down the trail behind the dam and back up again on the other side. With each step downward it seemed as though the ground was farther from my feet than my eyes were seeing, jarring my body each time my foot hit the hard packed mud.
At one spot, after getting back on level ground, and while I was trying to capture a photo that required me to stand at the very edge of the lake, I almost fell in. Not sure it was worth it, considering the result; it was just two trees that had collapsed into the lake . It’s hard to know how a photo will look. But since I unwittingly put myself at risk, I included it in the link above. I should say this: the water wasn’t very deep at that spot, so the risk was getting wet, not drowning. But in my moment of unbalance, arms flailing, hands grabbing at anything to keep from falling into the water, a fear of drowning drove a moment of panic, a feeling that lasted several minutes after I steadied myself.
On top of getting my old body jarred and almost falling in the lake, and perhaps because of it, my bladder was acting up, requiring me to occasionally seek out a big tree to stand behind. That is usually not necessary unless the hike goes more than a couple of hours. I already had to walk past two bathrooms, both closed because of Covid-19. I knew there was no way to hold it until 9 o’clock, when I would be at the park office, right next to open restrooms; so I started to watch for out-of-the-way spots as soon as I began my hike.
I took several photographs that day; most of them were not very interesting, which happens sometimes. This photograph is probably the best photo of the day, a sunlit tree reaching out over the lake, lit up by a strip of light. I don’t know when I’ll be going back to Paris Mountain again; so these few will represent the memory of this trip.
There is one set of trails that I would like to hike again someday. To get there, you drive to the top of the mountain, and park your car. Then you take the Brissy Ridge Trail, which connects with other trails, one that leads downhill to North lake and the trail that circles it. Then you take another trail that winds up the mountain at a very steep angle for probably half a mile. The last leg of the hike is on Fire Tower Trail, which leads, on a gentle downward slope, back to the parking area. There are lots of scenery along the way, mountains and valleys, beautiful North Lake, with the potential for seeing all types of wildlife.
But that hike takes about four hours for me. Walking up the side of a mountain for about one half of a mile is an arduous endeavor for old legs. Twenty years ago, I made that trip at least once almost every week for a number of years. But what I could do in my 50s is not the same thing I can do in my 70s. After so much recent inactivity, I’m not in shape for that hike right now, and I may never be.
Back then, I still had my unhealthy prostate. It wasn’t just a nervous bladder that required me to find a private moment from time to time. The long hike starting at Brissy Ridge Trail became very familiar to me. Along the trails, I had strategically selected a number of designated pee trees.
Getting back to my recent trip … I met up with some really nice people on the trail, including one extremely attractive young woman who was jogging at a rather fast pace. She smiled and said hello. I waved and returned her greeting. My neck still has a crick in it from watching her go by.
As 9 AM approached, I headed back toward my car, going past several places I had photographed years ago, including an old footbridge that I had photographed and then applied a painterly effect to in Photoshop. I remembered that the bridge wasn’t there on my last trip to the park. Now, the old footbridge has been replaced by a new and stronger-looking structure, still made from wood, but probably better designed than the old one … sturdier, but no longer picturesque. I could not find a good composition that included the new bridge, so I did not photograph it. I’ll take another look on a future trip.
The last photo I took was of an old log, floating close to shore. The beautiful colors that surrounded it caught my eye. So I grabbed a quick shot and then headed for the park office, a short drive in my car. Back home in Lightroom, I noticed that the only part of the log that was in focus was a foot or two near the center of it. Not sure how that happened.
Being forewarned, I slipped on a facemask before I entered the park office. A park ranger and a couple of clerks were there, all wearing masks, all seeming quite somber. I purchased my annual park pass, tried to make a joke about something, I don’t recall what; no one even noticed. So I turned, left the office, and headed back to my car.
Under different and better circumstances, I am certain those folks would’ve been much friendlier than they appeared on that morning. Years ago, when I spent lots of time there, I often got into conversations with Park Rangers, who were always friendly and cooperative. Wearing a mask over your face seems to change a lot of things. You can’t really see expressions. And expressions are part of what helps other people gauge and understand the tone and intent of what you’re saying. I look forward to the day when the “new normal” is replaced with the “old normal.”
Because of health issues and the Covid-19 shutdowns, I did not get much use of the pass that just expired. Now I am armed with my new annual pass to all the South Carolina parks that require a pass for entry. I hope I will get much more than my money’s worth out of that pass this year. You’ve seen my photos from past years, so you know I have a lot to look forward to, new memories to collect, new experiences, new opportunities to fill my senses with nature’s wonder.