Magic Happens when you have Mason River Waterfall all to yourself
“Like a waterfall, life doesn't flow backwards.”
My Canadian friend, Simone, sent me a picture of a waterfall in Sandy River, Clarendon.
Since it was in the Bullhead Mountain region, Simone and I assumed we had come across a waterfall in the geographical center of Jamaica.
Thus, investigating it was crucial. Unfortunately, the image quality was so low that I missed the fact that it was a waterfall I had seen before. Soon enough, you'll find out which waterfall it is.
Following our trip to Bullhead Mountains, fellow travelers @adventuresfromelle and @irie_Khadeem and I inquired with our tour guide about the waterfall in Sandy River.
He knew something about it, but we decided to wait until another time to find out more. Instead, we went to Colbec Castle.
After several weeks, I came back to Clarendon in pursuit of the waterfall in the Sandy River.
Since my cab driver couldn't provide me with directions to the waterfall, I ended up at a store in the Sandy River neighborhood.
I approached some men who appeared to be preparing food and inquired about the nearby waterfall. They knew where the waterfall was located and they said its around four miles. Truthfully, I couldn't have cared less. Discovering this treasure was the focus of my day.
Due to the lack of taxis servicing the location, I walked. As a truck was coming, I opted to jump in and ride along. The fact that I'm even considering this shows how insane and desperate I am.
After I told the driver where I wanted to go, he helped me get there. After a brief ride, we stopped at the base of a hill to inquire about the waterfall.
After I told the driver where I wanted to go, he helped me get there. After a brief ride, we stopped at the base of a hill to inquire about the waterfall.
I needed to get to the waterfall quickly so that I wouldn't be late for the shuttle down the mountain.
I continued up the hill, past some dwellings. I asked around to see if anyone knew if the waterfall was in the direction I was heading, and they all said it was.
I strolled for roughly twenty minutes, admiring the sky and seemingly endless expanses of greenery as I passed by cows and goats.
The sight of the mountain was worth living for. It was the scenery that really wooed me. Undoubtedly, the mountain scenery is stunning.
When I was out and about, I came across a huge tree that cast so much shade that you could easily go into a coma under its umbrella. I could feel the breeze caressing my face.
If my ride wasn't ready in time and I spent less time at the waterfall, I planned to come back here.
Next, I came across a house where I recognized a Rasta man.
Furthermore, he recognized me. Until he followed us up to the area by the waterfall, we recognised where we knew each from
Ricardo and I had visited Mason River Waterfall, and now we finally acknowledge where we knew each other from. When we went to see the waterfall for the first time, he was one of the tour guides we had.
Even though I was by myself and had no idea where I going except to follow the track, I decided to keep going to the waterfall. I took a stroll through a chocolate farm. Getting wet and then dry before seeing Mason River Waterfall for the second time.
At first, I was let down, but then I realized that Mason was even hotter than the first time we had met. Mason was barely trickling, and the pool at the base of the waterfall was far from ideal for swimming.
The mosquitoes were out in their numbers. It's as if we had personal tour guides. This rare treasure was mine and mine alone. I felt like I was in another world, laughing and having a great time.
This is one of the many reasons why I enjoy visiting off-the-beaten-path places. After working for five days straight at eight hours a day, I had time to sit quietly and reflect. I disassembled my tripod and put it in my bag. Mason and I said our good-byes. In the thick of the jungle, I almost got lost. As mesmerized as I was by the Mason River Waterfall, I found myself increasingly preoccupied with the moments I had created with Mason for the second time. This time around it was intimate and I loved every moment of it.
Thankfully, I was in the vicinity of the house I had to enter. As I called out, I was able to pick up voices that directed me back to the right path.
My new Rasta friend gifted me a huge yellow yam. I thanked him a million times and continued along the scenic route, where I once again had my cheeks caressed by the gentle breeze and marveled at the breathtaking view of the mountain.
How familiar are you with Mason River? How often do you get to go somewhere and be the sole individual there? Let me know in the comment section below!