Waterfalls and Trees

North America » United States » Washington » Olympic National Park
July 27th 2011

Published: April 22nd 2012

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Roosta

Salmon Cascades

The Salmon Cascades on the Sol Duc River

Today I moved to the north side of Olympic National Park.

This side of the park gets less rain than the west side, so the forests have a different character.

The trees are just as tall and old, but they are not as wide.

They grow closer together and block out nearly all sunlight.

The lush ground cover seen in the rain forests is gone, replaced by a carpet of ground moss and small ferns.

The hanging moss mostly disappeared.

This forest is the popular image of old growth trees, as majestic and still as a cathedral.

Sol Duc River

I first drove into this forest along the Sol Duc River.

The trees tower above the road, so all I wanted to do was look up.

On a tight curvy road, this is a problem.

I ended up doing something similar to driving in the Black Hills (see Gold Fever), looking at the road most of the time with glimpses upward.

I eventually reached the Salmon Cascades, where the river falls over a series of ledges in a pretty little gorge next to the road.

While the cascades are nice,

Ancient Grove

Along the Ancient Grove Nature Trail

their fame comes from the salmon that need to jump up the cascades to spawn.

People show up by the dozens to watch them.

I was here at the wrong time of year, so I didn’t see any 😞

The first chance to explore the forest appears further up the road, the Ancient Grove Nature Trail.

This hiking trail loops through the old growth to the river.

The contrast to the old growth forest yesterday is striking.

The rain forest had plants everywhere.

Here, they were high above and near ground level, and nowhere else.

Many of the trees were huge.

Younger trees that were just as tall surrounded the ancient giants.

Like eastern old growth, this forest had the subtle yet unmissable signal of an old forest, an amazing diversity of tree widths and ages (see The Majesty of Trees).

Fallen logs sat where they fell, with a layer of moss on top.

They rot more slowly than in the rain forest, because the drier air means less bacteria growth.

Except along the river bank, this forest had no sunlight at all.

Even the little

Sol Duc Trail

Along the trail to Sol Duc Falls

gullies, which in the rain forest were filled with water plants, here were almost bare.

This forest is a place to experience something older than human civilization.

Sol Duc Falls Trail

The road ends at a large parking lot next to a trail head.

The trail leads to one of the most popular features in this part of the park, Sol Duc Falls.

The trail follows the river valley a distance away from the river, through yet more old growth.

The trail has some memorable stream crossings.

The streams cascade down the side of the valley through white rocks with green moss.

Seeing these against the black and brown of the surrounding forest floor was pretty striking.

The path, for the most part, is a gentle climb.

The trail eventually reaches the side of a gorge, although it’s hard to see through the trees.

Sitting next to the trail at this point is one of the parks odder historic sites.

In the 1930s, the Civilian Conservation Corps built a series of emergency shelters along popular trails in the park.

Each one has a stone

Sol Duc Shelter

Emergency hiker shelter by the Civilian Conservation Corps, near Sol Duc Falls

foundation, old wooden walls, and a tin roof with a hole in it.

The hole vents smoke from campfires.

The shelter is closed to the public at this point because so many people used it as an overnight site (rather than emergencies) that the surrounding forest was heavily damaged.

From the shelter, the trail descends to a bridge across the gorge.

The bridge is made of logs, how people imagine a National Park bridge should look.

From the bridge, the downstream view clearly shows the narrowness and depth.

A little sliding falls is in view, crashing into a huge pool.

This isn’t the waterfall hikers want, though.

The upstream view shows Sol Duc Falls at the head of the gorge.

Sol Duc Falls is an unusual waterfall.

The river encountered a soft vertical layer of rock sandwiched between two harder layers.

It wore away the softer layer to create the gorge.

The river now falls over the harder layer of rock on the side of the gorge into the crack.

It splits into at least four separate streams, each of which runs

Sol Duc Falls

The classic view of Sol Duc Falls, from the bridge over the ravine

down the side of the wall.

At the bottom they collide into the other wall, giving off spray.

Broadly speaking, the waterfall resembled a much smaller version of Great Falls of the Patterson (see The Birthplace of Modern America), with a much more beautiful setting.

On the far side of the bridge, the trail goes directly next to the gorge wall.

The wall provides a head on view of the various streams of the waterfall.

The view is not as good as sounds, because one needs to lean over the safety railing and look straight into the gorge to get the full view.

The spray also flies straight up, so anyone doing so will get soaked.

On the plus side, the sun was at the right angle for the spray to provide a perfect rainbow above the falls.

The best view of all may be on the shore of the river at the head of the ravine, just above the first of the waterfall drops.

Reaching this one can be dangerous.

The very unofficial path scrambles down the side of the steep valley through slippery pine

Sol Duc rainbow

Sol Duc Falls head on, with rainbow. This photo required taking a bath from the spray.

needles.

I did it by carefully moving from tree to tree.

Slippery wet rocks wait at the bottom with a perfect view of the waterfall that is the exact reverse of the one from the bridge.

Falling here would be very painful and possibly fatal.

I took my pictures with one hand while wrapping my other arm firmly around a tree.

Crescent Lake

Back on the main highway, a few minutes’ drive from the turn off to Sol Duc brought me to the western end of Crescent Lake.

This long thin lake sandwiched between two sets of mountains is a major park highlight.

Think of one of the high lakes of the Alps surrounded by steep slopes, only these are covered in pine trees.

The road runs along the southern shore, squeezed between steep mountains on one side and the water on the other; a hair rising drive to say the least.

My first goal at the lake is a pair of beaches.

True to its name, the lake curves, so getting a picture of the whole thing is difficult (more on that later).

Lake Cresent

Lake Crescent, from the beach at the western end

A beach on the west end shows the western half, and a beach near the middle shows the eastern half, so I went to both.

The beaches are nice enough that staying a long time on one was certainly tempting.

Storm King Mountain Trail

I passed up that temptation to tackle one of the park’s most rewarding day hikes, Storm King Mountain.

A ranger station sits on the shore of the lake at the head of an obvious glacial valley, Barnes Creek.

Right behind it is a sheer rock cliff terminating in a narrow fin.

The cliff is Storm King Mountain.

When the weather is right, it has the best views in this part of the park.

A suspiciously wide path leads from the ranger station under the highway and into the valley.

The forest is old growth Douglas Fir.

The trees are large even compared to those I have seen elsewhere.

Undergrowth was minimal except by the river.

Other hikers could not resist taking pictures next to particularly wide examples.

A wide path like this usually only exists

Marymere Falls

Marymere Falls, near Lake Crescent

due to something popular.

In this case, the popular thing is another waterfall.

The walls of this valley are steep in places, so enough water dropping down will create a stunning waterfall.

When the big path turned right toward the river, crossed it, and entered a narrow side ravine, I knew I had found it.

Once in the ravine, the path crossed a side stream on a log bridge.

Compared to others, it was primitive; a single large log with railings nailed to it.

Worryingly, the log bounced as I crossed it.

On the other side was the classic sign of a tourist trail, long wooden railings to keep people on the switchbacks.

The trail climbed partway up the ravine wall, surrounded by yet more old growth.

Finally, the reason for all that effort revealed itself, Marymere Falls.

The waterfall consists of a long drop into yet another bowl, followed by a steep slide along the bottom wall.

The waterfall itself is surrounded by moss.

The old growth forest puts this one a step above similar falls in the Columbia River Gorge (see Grand Gorge).

Big trees

Grove of old growth trees along the Storm King Mountain trail. The climb is noticably steep.

From the waterfall, I backtracked to find the trailhead to Storm King Mountain.

It’s somewhat obscure, a narrow path next to a huge boulder.

At least the start of the trail is honest about what comes later.

The hike is a constant climb at a brutally steep grade, the steepest since Fossil Forest (see Welcome to Wonderland).

It never seems to let up.

The first part contains constant switchbacks to get out of the glacial valley.

The forest was all old growth.

One unexpected bonus of the steep climb is that the trail had good views of the middle and tops of the trees on the down slope side.

In places, the forest opened up enough to give views of the other side of the valley.

Three peaks formed a bowl, which is the source of the stream that goes over Marymere Falls.

The sound of the falls echoed over this part of the trail.

Once at the top of the valley wall, the character of the trail changed.

It passed through a grove of huge old growth

Lake Cresent east

Lake Cresent, looking east from Storm King Mountain. The Straight of Juan De Fuca is visible in the distance.

firs with no underbrush whatsoever.

Except for the total lack of water, this would make an awesome setting for a campsite.

After this, the trail climbed the side of the mountain proper on long switchbacks.

In one part, several huge old trees had fallen near the trail.

One of them had fallen over the trail, and the park service cut a notch so people could get through.

The trunk was as wide as I am tall, and had so many rings I could not start to count them.

This is what a thousand year old log looks like.

Sadly, someone just had to deface it with graffiti.

As the climb continued, the trees got shorter and thinner.

The harsher conditions at higher altitudes retards tree growth, as mentioned earlier.

A sea of mountain lilac bushes appeared, which the trail wove through.

It reached a corner and I had my first view of the lake.

It was to the west, with the mountains behind the lake clearly visible.

If this is all I get, I want my money back.

From there, the trail

Lake Cresent west

Lake Cresent looking west from Storm King Mountain.

went away from the lake in the direction of the valley.

I got some good views of the string of mountains on the other side of the valley, a few with snow on them.

This section was long, and I was beginning to despair of ever seeing the lake again.

The trail finally turned and reached a narrow ridge.

This ridge gave a wider view of the eastern half of the lake and the mountains around it.

Beyond the eastern end of the lake was a pass, and beyond the pass was a narrow strip of water with mountains behind it.

The water is the Strait of Juan De Fucha, which separates the Olympic Peninsula from Vancouver Island in Canada.

This was still not the view I was promised by the trail description, however.

The trail now climbed the ridge near the top.

The drop on one side was clearly sharp and long.

A scramble path appeared that lead to an open spot in the trees.

This path was steep enough to be more of a rock climb than a hike.

Vertigo hiking

Vertigo with a view: the ridge trail on Storm King Mountain

I carefully made my way up and finally got my reward.

The overlook sits directly on a wide part of the rock fin seen from the ranger station.

The huge view covered the entire lake.

The source of the name is abundantly clear here.

Both the pass and the Strait were visible, along with the surrounding mountains.

The view is incredible, and I had it to myself.

Anyone with a fear of heights should think twice, though.

The trail continues its climb beyond the overlook.

The rock fin gets narrower and narrower.

Eventually, the trail reaches a sign stating that travel beyond it can be fatal.

Beyond it lays a narrow rocky ridge with no vegetation larger than a bush.

The view from the sign clearly shows the drop off from that ridge, a long way nearly straight down.

I did climb out a little ways, to see the view.

It showed the glacial valley in all its glory, with a string of mountains behind it, along with the western part of the lake.

It also showed a drop so steep

Beaver Creek Valley

Beaver Creek Valley from Storm King Mountain.

and long it gives even the most prepared hikers a lump in their throat.

I carefully picked my way out to the viewpoint, and carefully picked my way back, making sure I had three limbs in contact with the rocks at all times.

Even then, I felt like the slightest breeze would push me to my death (an exaggeration, it’s worth pointing out).

Strom King Mountain is one of those trails where the hike down is nearly as brutal as the hike up.

Every step sends a shock into the knees and back.

At least the scenery was nice.

I reached the valley floor near dusk, and walked out in the fading light.

Additional photos below

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