during our visit to the lake house, my uncle took us on a couple of nice hikes to admire the local scenery.  by ‘nice hikes’ i mean treks through the gorgeous woods that started on reasonably obvious trails but rapidly became more… adventurous.  streams were crossed on slippery logs, muddy precipitous hillsides were scrambled and slid down, and at one point, my uncle tied himself to a tree with a length of rope so he could edge out toward the lip of a 100-foot waterfall. ‘don’t worry,’ he called gaily from the edge.  ‘the rope isn’t that long, so if i fall, i’ll only land in that first funnel down there.’

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