Waterfallling

Over the past month or so, I’ve become slightly (okay, very) obsessed with finding waterfalls. Adding fuel to this obsession was the discovery of a waterfall database listing hundreds of waterfalls in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. Fortunately, at least I think so, many of them are located within an hour of home. The way the database is arranged, it’s possible to find several waterfalls within a radius of less than 10 miles of each other. Yesterday, I took my list with directions from both Google maps and the database and headed out. First on the list was Camp Benson Falls. For this one, I parked on a dirt side road and made my way uphill (naturally) to a clearing where huge power lines towered overhead. The directions said to follow the end of this power line “road” where it intersected with Summit Creek. And, a brief half mile from my car, there it was. 

Camp Benson Falls

Heading to Lindsey Creek Falls

The instructions also said it was possible to make one’s way down to the base of the falls “but be careful, it’s very steep so use both hands.” It wasn’t the steep part that bothered me, it was the thorny blackberry bushes. I had to make do with scouting out along the top of the valley and taking a shot from less than 1/8 of the way down. 
Then it was on to Summit Creek Falls. The instructions for this one sounded easy enough: “bushwhack upstream for 500 feet.” Sounds simple, except that since the time these directions were written, there have been a few obstacles added in the way of fallen trees, rock slides, etc. It wasn’t that bad, but during that 500 feet I had to cross the creek several times and crawl across a log to get a clear shot. It was slightly easier going back since I knew what to expect. By this time though, I was thinking I probably wouldn’t want to stop at the grocery store on my way home. I had various muddy spots on my pants and I won't go into what my shoes looked like, and did I mention the twigs in my hair?

Summit Creek Falls

Then it was on to Lindsey Creek Falls. This one was tougher. From the trip reports I found online the next day, there used to be fairly easy access along the creek back to the falls, but after a big winter storm, the going become much rougher with downed trees and scrub making a boot path into an obstacle course. On the bright side, I didn’t have to worry about any people getting in the way of my shot and could take my time.

Next, I tried to find Harrison Falls. Unfortunately, there is construction going on on this section of the highway and the pullout where I was to park is currently a parking lot for all kinds of earthmoving equipment. I tried finding it by hiking down Lindsey Creek, but I’ll just say that after encountering lots of branches covered by some kind of passion vine and moss, not to mention another kind of thorny plant, it made for slow going, scratched arms, and I decided to save that one for another day. 

Lindsey Creek Falls

The next falls on the list were all located off the Mt. Defiance trail a few miles up the road at StarvationCreek State Park. Don’t worry, nobody starved here. It was named this after a train was stopped by snow drifts and the passengers had to dig their way out. No doubt there were several overly dramatic passengers on board who came up with the name. Starvation Creek Falls is quite civilized, with a trail leading right up to and no bushwhacking involved. Next, it was down the Mt. Defiance trail to Cabin Creek Falls, also fairly tame, and then to Hole in the Wall Falls. The name for this falls came about when in 1938 Warren Creek was diverted so as not to wash out the Columbia River Highway. If you look closely, you can see how the falls appears to come out of a cave.  

The "path" up Lindsey Creek

Unknowingly, I had saved the best for last. Lancaster Falls is found about 1/3 of a mile along the trail. From below, it looks like your run of the mill falls, but, with a bit of effort, the real show can be found above. There’s a scramble path going up and around the east side of the falls, and I was happy to see when I reached my destination that it was worth all the effort. It was rather humorous though when I descended practically at the feet of a rather surprised looking couple meandering along the trail. Apparently they aren’t accustomed to random hikers scrambling down hillsides and saying hello. I had one more falls on my list, but by this time my hands and knees (not to mention my posterior where I slipped and fell on a rock) were talking to me and I decided to come back. I figured the other falls will still be there in a week or so.

Starvation Creek Falls

Cabin Creek Falls

Lancaster Falls

Hole in the Wall Falls

Eagle Creek Falls Trail

The Eagle Creek Falls trail hike is one I've done before, but certain trails quickly become old friends that you want to revisit each year. The trail head is about half a mile from the parking lot, but this year my curiosity got the better of me. There is a mysterious staircase that appears near the exit ramp that leads to the parking lot. The staircase connects what used to be the original Columbia River Highway with the highway-turned-bike path that runs along Interstate 84. I decided that this year I was going to explore the stairs before starting on the hike. In my research with Google maps, it appeared I could take the stairs to the old highway and would eventually find a trail that would take me the back way to a footbridge that crosses the creek. That would then spit me out near the trail head and both satisfy my curiosity about the bridge and give me a different way to the trail head. I went up the stairs and continued following the old highway until I passed a sign for a trail that seemed to be going in the right direction, so seeing a fork in the road, I took it. After a bit, the trail came to another junction, but I continued on the original trail. That's where I made my mistake because after another five minutes I started to get the feeling of déjà vu all over again and before long I was back on the old highway. I realized later that I should have turned onto the other trail at the junction and that would have taken me to the bridge. Well, there's always next time.

Eagle Creek trail is fairly level, which is one of the reasons I like it, and for the first two miles is made up of mostly packed dirt with a loose rock here and there. Eagle Creek is actually a tributary of the Columbia River and hosts a number of waterfalls along the way as the trail runs parallel with the rushing water. I think the word creek is rather misleading because it has all the sound and speed of a serious river. The first waterfall on the way is Punchbowl Falls. The trail to Punchbowl intersects with the mail trail, but the junction is easy to miss, even with the great signage at about a foot above eye-level. From the riverbed, the falls is around a corner and to the left. Depending on the time of year, it's very easy to walk out on the rocky "beach" to get a look at the falls. However, a week after one of the rainiest Mays on record is not the time of year to do that. Let's just say I spent some time dumping water from my shoes and wringing out my socks, but it was worth it.

I often wondered why it was called Punchbowl Falls because, frankly, I've never seen a punch bowl in the shape of a waterfall. However, this time I did a little exploring after finding a non-official trail that led down to a ledge overlooking the top of the falls. From there, it was easy to see the perfectly round bowl that the water flowed into and then the name made sense. The picture below and to the right looks through the gap and into the area where the picture of the actual falls was taken. The sound of the water was so loud but at the same time relaxing. There are several campsites along the river and going to sleep while listening to the churning water is my idea of a perfect vacation.

Punchbowl Falls is only about two miles in, and my next goal wasn't until mile six. Meanwhile, the trail went from broad and smooth to narrow and rocky (this rather reminded me of the part in Pilgrim's Progress where Christian would much rather walk on the smooth trail that appeared to parallel the rocky trail he had been told to stay on). At times, there are thick steel cables firmly fastened into the rock to give anyone who might have a touch of dizziness or slippery footedness a way to reestablish their balance. But it's also at these places that the view is the best. 

Tunnel Falls is right in the middle of such a section of trail. The water thunders over the cliff and down 130 feet with a force that is absolutely amazing. It's called Tunnel Falls because the narrow trail leads through a tunnel that was carved into the rock behind the falls. In the picture on the left there can be seen, with a bit of imagination, a little "Hobbit hole" to the left of the falls and about half way down. It's reassuring to have the cable here because this is often a somewhat crowded section of the trail as everyone lines up to take pictures and becomes totally oblivious to everything else.

The next "favorite" has at least two names: Crisscross Falls, Twister Falls, and probably others I don't know about. Either one will do. It's actually higher than Tunnel Falls by about 10 feet but because the trail is above it, it doesn't seem that the water is falling so far. It's quite easy to stand right at the top of the falls without any fear of falling in and snap away with the camera. At least, that's what someone told me. The rainbow dancing on the edge of the water immediately caught my eye, and I was quite thankful that the camera could sense it. I've never been to Hawaii, but I always picture rainbows in the water there and I'm glad I didn't have to go so far to see them. I hovered around this spot for a while, just taking in the wonderful noise of the water and feeling the warmth of the sun before starting the seven-mile trip back. I admit to complaining about the rain every now and then in the Northwest (okay, I complain a lot about the rain in the Northwest) but being able to stand on the edge of a waterfall and only be 45 minutes from civilization makes up for all those gloomy wintery days.

What's in a Name

With the promise of decent, and possibly even sunny, weather this Saturday, it seemed only fitting to be outside to enjoy as much of it as possible. My first thought was to drive up north to Table Mountain near Bonneville Dam, but after a bit of hemming and hawing (I'm not sure exactly what that looks like, but it fits) I decided instead to do a day-long city/trail hike in parts of various southwest and southeast Portland suburbs that I have only driven through while on the way to somewhere else.

The trek started in George Roger's Park in Lake Oswego. Back in the day (which is a good way to say a long time ago without really knowing how long ago) this was where the iron that was mined nearby was smelted. The smelter has been restored and is now a local landmark in one of the more popular parks in town. There's a trail that runs through the park and at various times of the year has its own mini-waterfall, as well as views of the river.

After about a third of a mile, the trail comes out on Old River Road, which runs parallel to the Willamette River before dead ending into Pacific Highway. This part was the noisier part of the walk since the traffic is so heavy. I'm sure more than one person wondered what the crazy lady with the camera was doing taking pictures of shrubs, but they'll never see me again and if they do, they certainly won't recognize me without my disguise of capris pants and wild hair, oh wait, the hair is always wild. I liked the way the sun hit the droplets in this, whatever it is, rust-colored foliage. After crossing Pacific Highway, I headed for West Linn High School. According to Google maps (always a reliable source) there was a trail from the track leading up to the backside of Camassia Natural Area. I'd never been there, but a friend had told me about the abundant wild lilies that bloom every spring. I was too late for the lilies, but it was still a great place to explore. There is a wild solitude about it that is hard to describe, so I won't even try. I met a volunteer who showed me what she termed a quarry and as she was describing it, used a term associated with glaciers. Instead of appearing ignorant, I pretended to know what she was talking about, so now I'm still ignorant about what she was telling me. Oh well.   

From there, I found my way back to civilization and crossed over the bridge to Oregon City. My only association with Oregon City has to do with jury duty, but if I can keep myself from connecting it with long, boring waits in the jury room, it actually is a charming place to visit.
Off to one side is the Willamette Falls Dam and, to correspond with that, Willamette Falls. The roar of the water was quite distinct over the sound of traffic, even though they are some distance from the bridge.  While the falls aren't huge, there was still something impressive about them. From here, I turned left onto McLoughlin Boulevard and continued to walk parallel with the river.


My next goal was Meldrum Bar Park. About a month ago when I was walking on the west side of the Willamette, I had seen this spit of land jutting out into the river and wondered what it was. Once I discovered it's name, it went down on the list of places to explore. There were also plenty of fisherman out trying their luck. And they weren't the only ones enjoying the sun. I broke into a clearing just as this hawk circled lazily overhead. He seemed to just enjoy riding the warm air currents and expending as little energy as possible. Speaking of circling objects, I've seen rings around the sun but never in the colors of the rainbow. I managed not to stand there, rooted to the spot and pointing at the sky, but it took a bit of willpower. By this time I'd found another trail not on the GPS but which seemed to be heading in the right direction and did the logical thing by ignoring the GPS's warning that the world would end if I didn't go the right way and stayed with the trail.

At first, it seemed fairly well maintained and easy to follow, but soon that changed as it narrowed and became increasingly overgrown with blackberry bushes. My legs took quite a thrashing from the thorns, but rest assured, the blackberry bushes came through unscathed. I finally broke out into a cleared area behind some homes. As I went around a corner, I startled a heron that had been perched on a dilapidated deck. I'm not sure who was more startled, probably me because I wasn't quick enough to get the camera out. Instead I had to console myself with a picture of the empty deck.

After climbing up a small hill, I was back on paved roads and heading for the next spot, which was Elk Rock Island. Unfortunately that was about six miles away. So, I turned up the music on the ol' iPod and started to move. I'll have to come back to Elk Rock later in the summer when the river is lower and it's possible to get to it without wading through the river. Instead, I had to admire it from a distance and wonder what I was missing. Even so, from where I was it was still lovely. From here, I followed the road until it ran into yet another trail/park and then back to SE McLoughlin and into the Sellwood area. Sellwood is hard to describe. It's part hippy, part early 1900's, and all Portland. I enjoy this area because there's always something new to see. By now though, all I wanted to see was the other side of the bridge where my ride was picking me up to take me back to my car. So, what's in a name? In this case, it's Lake Oswego, West Linn, Oregon City, Gladstone, Milwaukie, and Portland. All in all, quite a mouthful.