Water, Water, Everywhere

If there’s one thing Georgia has that California doesn’t, it’s water. Granted California has oceans. But Georgia has water in rivers, streams, lakes, and even the air itself. The amount of water I have dumped down outdoor drains from the dehumidifier in my apartment over the past month could have watered my Burbank lawn for the entire summer.

So needless to say, finding water features on a hike is usually pretty easy. For this one, I took a page out of the Atlas Obscura again—to a little known wildlife preserve on the outskirts of Atlanta just twenty minutes from downtown. Its claim to fame in the atlas is that although it is where the Battle of Utoy Creek took place and the water ran red with blood, the water now is considered to have healing powers. (So I guess it’s like a vampire creek.)

You do have to drive through some pretty sketchy areas to get there, but if you come out alive, you arrive in the promised land: big houses, expansive lawns, and the Cascade Springs Nature Preserve.
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The main trail is a loop, beginning with a large amphitheater/picnic area. 

 And a cute little pump house that looks like a hobbit’s home.

To the left, the waterfall is only a short quarter mile away.

So we headed right.

There was a third trail in the middle, and in fact many offshoot trails along the way, which was a major turnoff for some folks on hiking reviews, but for me, I understood its purpose: this is a park. It’s not a one-road journey here and back. This is a place you hang out all day. It’s a place for eight year olds to have sword fights with branches in the woods, and to wade into the creek. It’s a place to find that super secret place to meet with your high school love. Or a simple place to sit and soak up all the stories in the birdsongs.

​Tucker and I began with a stroll along the creek's edge.

Tucker did his usual taste test, and gave the water five stars.

​We meandered down the trail, and took our time, going down short trails to the “beaches” and exploring around.

​The trail turned away from the creek after a spell and up into the forest. While the website had pointed out that we would be able to see some remnants of war, I did not spot them. We did find rocks to climb on, which for Tucker is better than any piece of human history.

And there were overturned trees to study with their roots exposed and all sorts of smells only Tucker could appreciate.

And then, as we came down the trail, we arrived at the main event:

​I really wanted to walk down the tunnel to where the water began its journey, but reviews spoke of the rocks being quite slippery. So we kept to the main area.

Tucker agreed with my assessment.

There was still plenty for him to climb around on without putting me in danger.

Despite taking my time and energy to be careful with my footing, ten minutes after this photo was taken, my ass was in those healing waters. Tucker's four-wheel drive always fares better than my silly two-wheel human design.

Oddly, I didn’t seem too wet after my fall. Or even muddy. Perhaps my water resistant backpack repelled it from even my pants. Or the healing waters are also magical. Tucker took no time in discussing it; he's used to my inferior coordination skills and all the consequences of that--and he loves me anyway.

​Cascade Springs was a nice little getaway that didn't take much get away to get there, a fun place for any kid to grow up, and for any adult to come and feel the peace of the water—even if you fall in it.