A trek into the heart of nature

Paul H. Williams, Gleaner Writer

On the morning of Wednesday, May 3, when I was doing my 300 crunches, 150 sit-ups and one-and-half-hour walk, I didn't realise I was preparing for the day's assignment, a visit to Natural Bridge in Riversdale, St Catherine. The bridge, which is a creature of nature, is what the road runs on, and hangs about 60 feet above the riverbed. It is billed as St Catherine's 'Eighth Wonder of the World'.

Upon arriving, Quincy Mignott, who oversees his family property on which Natural Bridge is located, was repainting the portal that leads to the once-popularly visited attraction. After a few minutes of chit-chatting, it was a slow walk down the approximately 125 winding concrete steps to the riverbed. As we walked we chatted some more.

The man-made section of the property is in ruins and dry vegetable matters are everywhere, and so are plastic bottles and other refuse. Mignott led the way as I looked in awe at the sheer drop of the high limestone cliff on the other side. Sweat began to damp my shirt and my heart raced. I felt as I were going down into the depths of Earth.

Family and property history, and stories of political interference were told. The graves of family members were pointed out. I listened and asked questions. Physically, I was doing well, very well. Psychologically, there were mixed emotions. I was 'in my ackee', amid nature, but the steep descent was cause for concern. As the sweat started to soak my shirt, I became more excited. I am working, and embracing nature at the same time, until we came to the end of the 125 steps, on a man-made ledge overlooking the river.

To get down to the river that runs under the natural bridge requires another 30 steps and the flight that stretches from the ledge to the sand was very high and steep. I was stopped in my tracks. Ironically, I, the adventurer, have an irrational fear of heights, acrophobia they call it. But I wasn't going to let it spoil my day. Moreover, Mignott, who is old enough to be my father, was going down as a boy of 16 would. Well, he has been doing that all his life. So, to save face, I told him to wait below. I was going down, acrophobia or not. I wasn't going to miss the 'Eighth Wonder' for the world.

Overwhelmed

The rails that were once there to guide visitors were long stolen, so what was I to do? "Sit!" I told myself. I did, and step by step I went down on my backside until there were five remaining, and that was when I stood, overwhelmed by the natural beauty of this place. The shrieks of bats pierced the air. In and out of the rocks they were flying all over the place in a sort of welcoming ritual. They, a surprise addition to this feast of nature, didn't bother me.

Over huge boulders, Mignott and I jumped and scaled. Then, there it was, the sky from the other side of the bridge, basking in its lofty grandeur. More bats, more boulders, more jumping, more scaling, until we were right under the bridge itself. Awesome! Two young men waved to us from atop jagged rocks. We were on the other side now. Dazzling! To show us how interesting the place was, the barefooted youths went in and out of interconnected caves and caverns way above. Shortly after posing for the camera they, as surefooted mountain goats, walked on the side of the cliff and made their gut-turning exit.

Around a corner, I saw a narrow gap between two high cliffs. The river runs through it into a green pool, in which small creatures darted and frolicked. I wanted to linger for a while, but the May rain clouds were hovering. I wasn't going to be caught me in the bowels of Earth. So, we returned to the foot of the 30 steps. It was even scarier from below. I told Mignott to wait. I would go first, just as I had gone down. I sat, and step by step I ascended backwards, laughing at the moment of my indignity. At the top, I raised my left hand in victory, and waited for Mignott to surface.

Now, drenched with sweat, it was back up the other 125 steps, to the main road, to the top of the world.