A Family's Journey to Pinard Falls: Embracing Nature's Challenges and Rewards

In the spring of 2024, our family embarked on what would become a memorable adventure to Pinard Falls. As a 37-year-old barefoot hiking enthusiast, my wife of 31 managing lupus with cannabis oil, and our 13-month-old daughter snug in her fabric sling, we were an unconventional trio ready to tackle the 1.1-mile trail.

The morning greeted us with the crisp, earthy scent of recent rain as we arrived at the trailhead. Stepping out of the car, my bare feet connected with the cool ground - a sensation that, even after 18 years of barefoot hiking, never fails to invigorate me. Contrary to popular belief, years of this practice have left my feet smooth and sensitive rather than callused, allowing for an intimate connection with the trail.

As we began our descent, it became clear that winter rains had left their mark. The path, a continuous downhill stretch, was washed out in places with exposed roots creating an uneven terrain. While my experienced bare feet navigated the challenges with ease, my wife, ever resilient in the face of her lupus, took a measured approach. Our daughter, securely fastened to my chest, observed the journey with wide-eyed wonder.

About three-quarters of the way down, we encountered our most significant obstacle - a fallen old-growth tree blocking the trail. As we approached, an unexpected delight greeted us: the fresh, almost sweet aroma of newly exposed wood filled the air. This scent, which we all found invigorating, added an unforeseen sensory dimension to our hike.

Upon closer inspection, we discovered a small gap beneath the massive trunk - our passage through. However, the recent rains had left the ground beneath muddy and wet. I went first, carefully lowering myself with our daughter still strapped to my chest. The cool, damp earth provided excellent grip for my bare feet as we slowly inched our way under the tree. Our little one, rather than being frightened, seemed to relish this new adventure, her giggles echoing in the small space.

My wife approached the obstacle next, her determination evident. Despite the challenges posed by her lupus, she methodically made her way through the gap. It was a slow process, but her triumphant smile as she emerged on the other side was a testament to her perseverance.

As we helped each other brush off the mud and leaves, we couldn't help but laugh at our disheveled state. The fresh, woody scent of the fallen tree enveloped us, a smell we all agreed was unexpectedly delightful. This obstacle, while challenging, became a metaphor for our life together - facing difficulties head-on, supporting each other, and finding joy in unexpected places.

When we finally reached Pinard Falls, the sight was breathtaking. The 105-foot waterfall cascaded down moss-covered basalt cliffs, creating a misty veil that caught the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. Our daughter, experiencing her first waterfall, expressed her excitement with gleeful squeals.

We found a comfortable spot to rest and enjoy a light snack, basking in the negative ions emitted by the rushing water. Whether it was these ions, the beautiful scenery, or simply the satisfaction of reaching our goal, we all felt a sense of peace and rejuvenation. My wife, despite the challenging hike, seemed more relaxed than I'd seen her in a while.

The return journey, a continuous uphill climb, tested our endurance. We took it slowly, with frequent breaks to catch our breath and hydrate. The fallen tree, which had been such a formidable obstacle on the way down, seemed less daunting on the return. Perhaps it was the confidence gained from conquering it once, or maybe it was the lingering peace from our time at the falls.

This hike to Pinard Falls taught us valuable lessons about patience, the healing power of nature, and the strength we possess as a family unit. It reinforced our belief in the therapeutic effects of the outdoors and the importance of embracing challenges together.

For those inspired to visit Pinard Falls, remember to check trail conditions, be prepared for a steep return journey, and take time to appreciate the unexpected moments - like the scent of a freshly fallen tree. Whether you hike in boots or barefoot, whether you run down the path or take it step by step, the important thing is that you're out there, connecting with nature and with each other.

Our trip to Pinard Falls was more than just a hike. It was a reminder of our family's resilience, the beauty of the Pacific Northwest, and the unexpected joys found in nature's obstacles. It's these experiences that continue to draw us back to the trails, eager for our next adventure in the great outdoors.