Helen, GA: Raven's Cliff Falls

I joined the Meetup hiking group maybe a decade ago. I go through spells; sometimes I'm active, sometimes life gets in the way. I'm trying to become more active again. I find I'm happiest when I have hiking in my life.

Our group has standing weekly walks around local neighborhoods, longer hikes on Saturdays and a few camping trips sprinkled in. This is the first Saturday hike I’ve done in quite a while. Waking up at 5 a.m. was rough, but I said I’d drive in the carpool. That, friends, is called "No Backing Out!" 

Sylvia rode with me. She had just moved back to the area and this was her first hike. She had also never been to Helen but was looking forward to seeing it. You talk a lot on a 3 hour drive, so we learned a lot about each other, like we both like wine. I'm pretty sure we're best friends now.

The trail was popular. We struggled to find a place to park and met lots of new people and their puppies along the way. The trail was wide and trampled, and full of gnarly tree roots to climb. It wound up beside a mountain stream with several places to step off the trail, sit on a rock and listen to the water. Don’t forget the photo ops!

I thought we were done when we reached the a ledge that seemed like the top -- and finally found the other half of our group. I was wrong. 

The organizer's fur daughter, Lily, was so happy we finally reached the top that she gave me kisses! 💗

The trail got very steep for a short way to see the actual falls. At first I said, "NOPE! This is good!" My legs were rebelling, but after an apple and some granola, and a few minutes of sitting, I changed my mind. This is the payoff. This is what we came here for. Up we go!

That’s when I understood the name…Raven’s Cliff. The waterfall cuts a deep, black path into the cliffs that can only be seen when you make that final climb. There are several ledges where you can rest and watch a while. If you look really close to the right in the picture, you can see a girl doing just that.

The 5-mile trail is 2.5 miles in, 2.5 miles out and takes about three hours to hike. Coming back down the mountain was much easier, but because it’s been a while since I’ve done a mountain hike. I was very happy to see the car.

The group decided to go into Helen and got a late lunch at Two Tires Tavern. I got their classic burger and fries. Juicy and flavorful, messy and hard to eat (basically burger perfection), it was the best after-hike lunch. They even had live music on the deck at 3 p.m. in the afternoon.

Sylvia had never been to Helen and really wanted to see it. Helen, if you know nothing about it, is a touristy replication of a German town. It is filled with shops and restaurants, and live music from a biergarten in the center of town serenades you while you shop. The Chattahoochee River flows through the center of town. During the summer, it is brimming with people lazily floating down the river. The rest of the year, it is just a beautiful, rocky mountain river. Restaurants along the banks provide an excellent vantage point for watching either people or water.

We walked about two more miles around the town, and stopped at Hofer’s of Helen Bakery and Café on the way back to the cars. I got two apple fritters and two chocolate pastries to take home. One of the apple fritters didn’t make it and it was absolutely divine.

After Sylvia and I said goodbye to the others, we gassed up and pointed the car toward home. We passed a closed winery and decided we’d stop if the next one we passed was open, since we didn't get wine at lunch. We found Creekstone Winery and could absolutely not have dreamed up a better way to end the day! We both ordered a flight and settled on a fire table in front of a pergola where a young, shaggy haired musician in sunglasses played guitar and sang everything from The Cure to Bill Withers.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, it’s not warm when she’s away….

Behind him, the hills were beginning to turn blue and gray as the sun started to set. It was just so beautiful and relaxing.

“I wish I had a cabin nearby and I could just stay here all evening,” I told Sylvia.

But it’s a three-hour drive home. Very reluctantly, we got in the car and left the mountains. The farther the sun dipped, so did Sylvia’s head. Bless her heart, she was less used to this than I was and fell asleep. The last hour to Augusta was the longest drive ever, and when I got home I slept like a dead thing until 9 a.m. Sunday morning.

I’m ready for the next adventure!