We drove nine hours to Chattanooga for a weekend of climbing. Winter would have it another way, giving us snow and overcast skies instead of the chilly, yet sunny weather we were hoping for. Flurries fell as we drove out to Foster Falls on Friday. Determined to give climbing a shot despite the freezing temps, we hiked down to the falls. We were spellbound by Tennessee’s natural beauty; if there were roses, we would have stopped to smell them. We slowly made our way up to climb the cliffs where the cold, damp stone numbed our fingers and slippery mud caked the bottom of our climbing shoes, both of which made the easiest of routes incredibly sketchy. Night descended more quickly than we anticipated, cutting short our time on the cliff and forcing us to hike back in total darkness. We didn’t have flashlights. Thankfully, the details of returning to the entrance were not lost in our minds due to our attentive, sharp-eyed amazement of our Appalachian surroundings.