The most recent wilderness hike I posted about was when Pedro and I hiked the famous Eagle Creek trail to Punchbowl Falls. The Eagle Creek trail is long, over 12 miles to reach Wahtum Lake, but I had only ever hiked the two miles to Punchbowl Falls, and back. I’ve done that at least five times. The cliffside trail is dramatic and engaging, the falls is unique and scenic. Even after the fire the whole area remains beautiful.
When I hiked with Pedro last month, I got it into my head that I wanted to see more. I have also been wanting to backpack somewhere, anywhere, and start doing that again. I have missed it so. I’ve been waiting for when the two of us can go together, but Pedro works full time and uses his weekends to catch up on stuff and spending an entire weekend hiking is simply not a priority for him like it is for me. Easy answer: I can go by myself during the week. I used to do that exclusively, and there’s no reason why I can’t just do that again.
But first! Let me show you the beginning of the trail again, because even though I just showed it to you last month, it’s beautiful enough to look again.
The falls above are along the trail, mostly considered unremarkable, but that is because we live in Oregon and these dramatic falls are freaking everywhere. The one on the bottom right is Metlako Falls, which is a stunning waterfall, but these days one cannot get a very good view of it because of new growth of brush after the fire that didn’t use to be here. In a post from 2015, I have a great photo of Metlako Falls (also you can see what the trail looks like before the fire).
One of the things I wanted to do last time I hiked here was climb down the hill to the bottom, and approach Punchbowl Falls from the bottom. I went down once and the water level was too high to get in. But one time, long ago, I was able to wade through six inch deep water and see the falls. I was prepared to get wet and do that again.
I took off my pack at the top of the hill, and descended the trail. I was not prepared for the GIGANTIC pile of debris newly washed into the chasm and lodged for another twenty years till it decomposes.
I’m pretty competitive, so when two young women scrambled out across the logs, sometimes lifting their poor dog who couldn’t do some of it, I was determined to go, too. I had to literally rock climb down the face of a rock onto a single log, then balance and walk along the log till I could step carefully onto floating logs and making sure they didn’t begin spinning, slide carefully along them until I reached the big pile. Then, on all fours I climbed up, log after log. My heart was POUNDING, but it all paid off!
With all that great stuff in only two miles, what more could the trail really have to offer if I walked farther?
After returning home, I am now of the opinion that the main appeal of this trail – for people with the time and the ability to hike farther – is probably the group of falls that begins about 6 miles up the trail, and the swimming pools at about 7 miles in. I cannot believe I’ve lived here for 18 years and no one ever explained to me what’s above Punchbowl Falls.
At about 6 miles in, I came to a new part of the trail that is beautiful and interesting, and it’s also beside another photogenic waterfall. This section of the trail intersects giant basalt columns, and their concave and convex surfaces inside hexagonal outlines makes it feel otherworldly.
All the photos in the tiled gallery above are from the same spot at Grand Union Falls. I loved it and took many photos.
Then my mind was blown when I saw Tunnel Falls for the first time.
It was exhilarating to walk through of course. At this point along the hike, I was hot, tired, and sweaty. The spray from the waterfall felt refreshing. I lingered a little, but I was hungry and ready to stop for the day. I wanted to find a place to take off my pack, but the trail wasn’t really conducive for a stopping place.
So I kept walking, till I rounded a corner and was astonished once more! There is a huge swimming area above Twister Falls, that is not mentioned anywhere that I could see on maps or in the trail app I was using. Whole families, and gangs of friends, and traveling groups who had stopped for a picnic were gathered here. I counted SIX deep, still pools that were perfect for swimming.
It’s such a beautiful spot. Even with all the people, I couldn’t resist the pull. I set down my pack and walked farther up the trail to check out the 7 1/2 Mile Campsite.
The campsite was fine, just fine. But I really wanted to find a way to stay at the swimming pools. The only place I had seen to set up my tent was on the basalt rocks beside the river, and the jutting rocks seemed sharp enough to damage my inflatable mattress. But at the campsite I found someone’s discarded wool blanket. That solved my problem. I carried the blanket back to the swimming area, and laid it out across the rocks. I laid my moisture barrier next, and set up my tent on top. The rocks were still jutting up, just not sharply enough to damage my equipment. After I put the mattress on top of that, I had a very comfortable bed in the best spot.
I spent the next couple of hours taking photos in between groups of swimmers.
But the fun eventually had to stop for the visitors. I was the only one who got to stay. Overnight campers all trudged up the trail to the camp I had visited and rejected, and everyone else had to gather their things and walk the hot, dusty path all the way back to their cars. I waited, patiently. By 5 pm, everyone was gone and I had it all to myself.
During the day, one man expressed his surprise that I was hiking solo. He said he thought trails were especially dangerous for women, due to sexual predators. I didn’t really know how to respond to that. I have never ever thought that hiking was dangerous due to being attacked by a rapist or murderer. I am afraid of things like falling and not having anyone to help me get out, or being tracked by a mountain lion who is bored and wants a cute little human to play with. I am afraid of Poison Oak. I am incredibly allergic and break out and swell up to unrecognizable proportions if I get the oil on me. That damned stuff was all over the place.
Absolutely at peace, I made dinner and ate it, and slept like the dead for the next 10 hours! My hike out the next morning was easy and blissful, though the day was especially hot. I threw all my stuff into my Jeep at the trailhead and changed into a swimming suit that I had thought to bring and leave there just for this purpose.
Conscious Engagement 
What an awesome adventure! You go girl!!! I remember solo hiking a while ago and was on a very steep ledge and all I could think about was, if i slipped an fell over the edge, no one would know! It made me anxious. I adore all the waterfall photos!
I was thinking of you during this entire hike because of the waterfalls. There were SO MANY.
Wonderful Crystal. What rugged trail though. I would be slightly nervous in some of those patches of tumbling down the ravine. The waterfalls are ever so good to see. Loved the tunnel walk and felt the cool.
That was an interesting place to set up camp. Did you have phone reception?
I admire your spirit and determination.
When walking across the rocks, you are right the trail is rugged. In the steepest places along the trail, where it is also a narrow trail, a steel cable is attached to the wall. When I was younger, I thought the cable was overkill. But on this trip, I kept my hand on that cable every time there was one. I felt less stable because of the heavy backpack I was carrying. But also, I’m getting older and my body is less reliable.
I loved the camp spot, though the roar of the Twister Falls was loud all night. It’s a roar I can sleep through though. The rocks were not entirely flat, but I tend to sleep very still (I learned this in the Air Force), so I was comfortable. Interesting you asked about reception. I had zero cell service for the entire trip. That evening though, I discovered how to use satellite to send messages. I didn’t even know this was an option on my phone, but a message popped up. I needed to message Pedro, whom I knew would have been worrying all day long. I held my phone up over my head until a satellite passed overhead, and I’d get a signal for about one minute. I sent one message to him in the evening this way, and one again in the morning, to set his heart at ease.
I agree about the cable, I would have been the same. I didn’t realise you had the backpack on all the time.
I bet Pedro was glad you were able to send a quick I;m OK message.
My phone, when out of reception range, like in my office and not on the kitchen window 🙄 has “Emergency Calls Only” pop up where the regular reception signal is.
I thought that it might just go to our 000 (your 911) emergency number so have never been tempted to see.
Last thing I need is a helicopter hovering over my house
I was scared to use the satellite thing too!! Still waiting to see if it shows up as a $20 charge on my phone bill. I sent a “Hi, I’m fine” message, then turned it right back off.
Oh yes, I didn’t think of the cost 😲💲💲
So far I see no charge…but we will see
What a blessing to have this magnificent trail and spectacular nature basically on your doorstep, Crystal. I’m in awe of you having hiked it alone, as it is not something I would do, simply as I don’t trust my survival skills, and I am definitely a bit jittery getting injured and not having someone with me. It must have been an incredible experience to have had the place to yourself at the end of the day, though. I especially love the photo of the two young women looking tiny compared to the logs. Without them I would have easily missed the enormous size of them.
I am so glad the women in the photo helped with perspective! That is usually why I include people: to help others see it the way I saw it. The photos I took really don’t do justice to the enormity of those logs and – in combination – the size of a pile of those logs. It was so enormous. But getting to the pile was tricky, because the water between me and the log pile was deep and filled with rapids, so I had to balance on logs jutting out over the water to even get to the pile. I had to try many approaches, scrambling under and around rock piles, and asking the women for clues on how to get where they were. It was an accomplishment and I was so proud of myself for sticking with it when I almost gave up.
I began hiking alone when I was about 30, and would go out into the wilderness at least twice a year for 5 days or so, every year till I moved to my remote property in Rainier, and then I still went out, just less often. So I feel more comfortable out there than I do at home. I think my comfort level is entirely due to the frequency.
A truly courageous achievement so well photographed. Even when able bodied I could not have contemplated those higher trails. Congratulations my intrepid friend XX
Thank you for the compliments on the photography. I had fun. And photography is the BEST excuse for when I’m tired and I don’t want to walk for a few minutes.
Wow. Such bliss! I can almost feel it all. The tension, the excitement, the relief when (finally) left alone with the river. I’ve never done this kind of thing. I often wish I’d had a different life growing up, but I’m not complaining. We do the best we can. I’m envious of it all, but oddly, the thing that I loved the most was the 10 hours of restful sleep! I’d give anything for that kind of honest, earned tired. Well done, my friend. Thanks for taking me along!
For some reason, I sleep my best when I’m in the wilderness. It feels somehow like the only place where I can actually relax completely. And the ten hours. Yes! I was purely exhausted, and that is a good feeling. To drop off out of physical exhaustion. I am proud of myself for going, and I will try to go out again soon.