I awoke earlier than I generally prefer this morning. That’s how mornings go when I’m meeting up with my newish friend who’s leading this hike today (our Fearless Leader, I’ll be referring to her as “FL”). She’s a morning person. I am not. And that’s why I’m currently finishing my second Monster for the day as I pull into the trailhead at promptly 9am, slightly hungover and running on approximately 3.5 hours of sleep. The fifty-minute drive to this spot from my cabin in Franklin, NC was breathtaking, though I didn’t expect any less. I’m back home in NC for a few days, relishing in the higher-elevation temperatures, a welcome reprieve from the 95-100 degree days I’ve had in West Virginia the last few weeks. I might be yawning every few minutes, but few things make me feel at home like watching the fog rise with the morning sun and catching the late summer rhododendron blossoms while they are still glistening with this morning’s dew fall. Worth the early-hour alarm clock? Maybe.
FL’s husband and Shooter’s canine buddy Leap are standing next to her Jeep as I pull onto the gravel and begin readying myself for the hike ahead. We are still waiting on another couple to join us: Allison and her husband Ben. I open my liftgate and busy myself deciding which hiking shoes to wear today while Leap barks at Shooter, tempting him to leave the car for a romp. I decide on Astrals, since we will be crossing the creek and I intend on getting IN any waterfalls we encounter if at all possible. The tires on Allison’s Subaru crunch as it rolls onto the gravel behind the Jeep, and her dog Claude pops his curly head out of the passenger window, curious about the other two canines on site. Shooter and Leap are friends and have hiked together in the past, but Shooter has never met Claude and I’m a bit apprehensive; Shooter is very dog selective and isn’t friends with everyone he meets. Alas, Claude is some percentage poodle, and Shooter almost always likes other poodles, so I hope their meeting is going to go off without a hitch.
The access we used for this hike is normally off-limits to anyone except registered guests of Balsam Lake Lodge. However, the Lodge is closed for renovations at the time of our hike and FL has called the Forest Service and acquired permission for our group to access Wolf Creek via the trails behind the lodge. Do not attempt this hike from this access point without doing the same. It is also important to note that NONE of the waterfalls mentioned in this post are on any official trail or route. No one should attempt this hike without the skills, knowledge, and proper equipment for navigating off-trail.
Finally, 5 humans and 3 dogs are ready to hike. Our goal today is to see at least three waterfalls along Wolf Creek: Lower Balsam Falls, Patricia Falls, and Lauren Falls.
We begin the hike by walking down to the boardwalk (pictured above) where rain slowly starts to sprinkle the lake. We quickly abandon the well-groomed trail near the Lodge in favor of a foot-trodden manway through a dense thicket of laurels before eventually intersecting with what appears to be an old road grade. We have the brief pleasure of this gently-graded relic of yester-year for a few moments before leaving the sanctuary of hard-packed earth for the collapsing, muddy, rooty banks of Wolf Creek. FL and Leap make quick work of the treacherous hillside and before any of us know it we are standing in the creek at the base of Lower Balsam Falls.
Framed by blooming rhododendron, with a deep, dark pool at its base, I’m immediately awestruck by the falling water and the setting surrounding it. I really do love all waterfalls, and I’ve been enjoying exploring the ones in West Virginia, but I can’t quite be convinced that there is anything as beautiful as a North Carolina waterfall, and I find myself almost giddy that I am back home, in my favorite national forest, chasing after the waterfalls I love most. After a short stop, we begin the clamber back up the bank and begin to pick our way along the creek to our next destination.
The going isn’t quite so tough to begin with, despite several downed trees we have to navigate under, over, or around. Soon enough we come to the one major creek crossing on this hike and we all find our own routes through calf-deep Wolf Creek. I naturally get rocks in my shoe and have to stop and remove them. Shooter naturally wonders what is taking me so long.
By this time some of our crew are wondering if maybe this “hike” is more than they bargained for, but everyone decides to press on. After the creek crossing our next obstacle is a series of booty-scoots and bottom-slides down a steep and muddy hillside to reach our next waterfall. To me, this is the most annoying/difficult part of the hike. The final portion of the descent is densely overgrown with dog-hobble, and I don’t know if it really hobbled the dogs but it definitely hobbles me as I try to navigate down to the base of Patricia Falls.
We finally make it to the bottom, and I don’t know about anyone else but I’m covered in mud by this point. The final obstacle standing between me and Patricia Falls is a deadfall maze. It takes me and my short legs some effort to get through, but I finally emerge in front of what has to be one of the most beautiful waterfalls I’ve ever seen. it’s easy to see why Kevin Adams named this waterfall after his wife.
Framed by blooming rhododendron, plunging into a deep, dark black pool, edged by green moss littered with fallen blooms, and totally free of debris and clutter, Patricia Falls is truly a sight to behold and worth every ounce of effort required to get here. It’s one of those places that feels like it sprung up straight out of a fairy tale, or at least that it should be the muse for one. FL and the dogs cross the creek and scramble onto the rocks for a close up view, while the rest of us stand in awe and take photographs from different angles.
As nice as this waterfall is, we aren’t finished yet. We still have one major waterfall left on today’s trek. I’m glad FL didn’t tell any of us how bad the next portion of the hike was or we may all have backed out right there. Onward we go, though, following our fearless leader in exactly the WRONG direction. See, FL had only done this hike once before and couldn’t quite remember where the “route” we were following went from here. We end up backtracking halfway up the steep hillside we’d descended earlier before realizing we’d gone the wrong way.
Not to be deterred, FL volunteers to go back down and find the correct route before any of the rest of us follow. She has an unpleasant encounter with some very wet animal feces on one of her butt-sliding descents, but her spirits aren’t dampened and she makes quick work of getting us all back on the correct course. Back down we go, back through the dog hobble.
There are several WTF moments on the next part of the hike. From swinging around a sheer drop-off while hanging onto a rhododendron for dear life, to using every ounce of upper body strength I have to keep myself from tumbling down the hillside by grabbing onto a downed tree (and hoping it held), to gritting my teeth and hoping my knees don’t give out on a harrowing slide down a muddy bank– there is nothing easy about getting to Lauren Falls.
But, as Tom Hanks’ character Jimmy Dugan famously states in A League of their Own, “…if it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.” Standing in this spot, seeing this waterfall that not everyone gets to see, because getting there is hard, this is magical. This is worth it.
FL and Leap go for a swim in the plunge pool while the rest of us enjoy the view from this upper vantage point. We spend quite a while here, relishing in the spray from the waterfall and the solitude of this place. Reluctantly, we eventually begin the rather harrowing trip back to the car. In all this hike was only 2 miles but it took us 3 hours and 45 minutes to complete. I think a lot of people look at the mileages I do and think, “Oh, she isn’t really hiking that much,” or “she isn’t doing hard hikes” and let me tell you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, many of the hikes I do ARE short, but they involve full-body movement and coordination; they aren’t on trails and require climbing, crawling, and sometimes swinging and sliding to get to where I need to go; they are steep and rugged and slippery.
I return to the car covered in cuts, bruises, and mud; I have seeds and twigs and burrs and blossoms in my hair and a smile plastered on my face. FL asks if we want to drive around and hike Balsam Falls before we leave. None of the rest of us are up for it. That two miles wiped me out, and I’m ready for wings and a beer at my favorite local watering hole. We bid farewell until next time, a tired and contented bunch of humans and dogs.
Adventure Like A Girl 