The waterfall impressed our friends, I’m sure, as much as it had impressed me. While I enjoyed seeing it as much or more in their company as I had alone, the experience, not surprisingly, was different. Perhaps only solitude grants one the full experience of awe I had on my first visit. With companions, however, I had the pleasure of sharing the experience. Mike, with his keen powers of perception, helped me see something I had missed on my own: he asked whether the huge hanging ice column was moving. Skeptical at first, I focused intently on its lower portion and saw that it was — tremulously, almost imperceptibly, but actually — moving, set faintly swaying in air stirred by the waters falling through it.
I was glad I had checked this site out before leading others to it. For one thing, I was able to insist that we all wear some kind of traction aid on our boots. Also, I could say with confidence that this excursion would more than repay whatever effort or discomfort it might cost us to make it. Mainly, what such a walk asks of us at this time of year is a willingness to approach the edge of our comfort zones. In 40-plus years of leading people into natural areas, I have found that edge to be where the most memorable experiences happen and where the most durable learning takes place. This observation applies equally to children and to adults. We live at a time when tolerance for risk, especially in the outdoors, seems to be at an all-time low. There is a bitter irony in this, as many appear quite willing, for instance, to endanger the livability of our planet by ignoring the more and more obvious risks of climate change. Or to endanger aquifers, ecosystems and rural communities by the risky practice of hydraulic fracturing for natural gas.
Certainly we want to keep kids safe, but does that really require never allowing them to get near the edge of their comfort zones? Or maybe we should look at the issue a different way: whatever the risks of going outside under challenging conditions, we might ask, what are the risks of not going outside? For all humans, curiosity, a spirit of adventure and a sense of wonder — all of these, I believe, thrive best, as ferns and lichens do, when exposed to the world’s weather. So dress in layers, strap on crampons if necessary, and push your own boundaries this winter, into the realm of ice and snow.
This trail to the base of Stony Kill Falls is at the end of Shaft 2A Road in Kerhonkson. Turn right off Route 44-55 about 1 mile southeast of the intersection with Route 209 onto Minnewaska Trail Road (or turn left on to Minnewaska Trail Road 4.3 miles northwest of the main entrance of Minnewaska State Park), then turn left onto Rock Haven Road. Follow 1.9 miles to Shaft 2A Road. Follow Shaft 2A Road 0.4 miles to end. Parking is limited and tricky: you must not block the gate and the road has little or no shoulder.
