The Journey of the Falls

People love waterfalls. But I don't believe our fascination with them is just about how visually stunning they are. There’s something more to it. In the six miles Tucker and I traversed the Wakeena Falls Loop Trail, I had a lot of time to ponder and listen to the waterfalls for what it is that draws us there.

One end of the loop is Multnomah Falls, one of the busiest and well-known falls in the area. The two-tiered waterfall with the bridge one third of the way up from the bottom makes for some spectacular photos. Being right on the road, it's a hot spot for tourists.

So Tucker and I didn’t start there.

We started just down the road at Wakeena Falls, where there would be some people at the bottom of the falls, but I didn’t expect a lot of people to make the 2-3 hour journey up into the mountains and back down again. The loop wasn’t just a waterfall on either end but a total of five along the way: Wakeena, Fairy, Ecola, Wiesendanger, Dutchman, and finally Multnomah. It is almost as well-stacked with waterfalls as Silver Falls State Park, except Tucker’s allowed to see these, and we avoided a long drive back and forth.
​
The bottom of Wakeena Falls made me think of a fast running creek someone had tilted at an angle.

Taking the trail upward, we didn’t encounter many folks, and ended up at Wakeena Falls proper behind a footbridge.

The trail continued on, and from there, we could see the Columbia River Gorge.

Again and again, these peek-a-boo views were like windows in this house of forest out to the sprawling vastness of the wilderness.

Inside the forest house, we followed along the river, until we reached Fairy Falls.

Here was yet another great fall of water, splashing down and carrying on its way.

It didn’t feel like two miles into the mountains when we reached this crossroads, but there we were, two miles from civilization, with spectacular views of Nature, unheeded by human intervention.

I can’t tell you which Falls were which now, as the route followed the water, and there were crashes and dips along the way that may or may not have had any specific nomenclature. We witnessed the water passing by us on its way down to Wakeena Falls, and once we reached the summit of the trail and we began our descent, we followed the rushing water on its way to Multnomah Falls.

I occasionally turned around to capture one of the river's dramatic dances with gravity.

We went to the bay windows of the forest to capture the glorious views.

Twilight would be arriving soon, and as much as I wanted to stay to watch it slowly take over the skies, I also wanted to make it back to our trusty steed before dark. We still had Multnomah Falls and the path back to Wakeena Falls to finish the loop.

Multnomah Falls is impressive from every angle.

(Even if Tucker doesn’t think so.)

A word of warning to those taking this path: right around here, the water sprays back up and creates its own weather pattern, making you feel like you’re in a hurricane, wind blustering around you and water coming at you from all angles.

From afar and up close, it is magical, like a cascade of light and energy.

Tucker paused so we could capture the moment at the iconic location.

It’s difficult to fit the entire falls in one frame. At 620 feet, it is the tallest waterfall in Oregon.

The waterfall’s origin according to Wasco legend is that it appeared as a sign to the Multnomah people that the chief’s daughter, who had sacrificed herself to save her people by jumping off the cliff here, had been welcomed into the Land of Spirits and dwells there still today.

But I doubt most of the two million visitors a year here know that tale. They come because it is pretty. Or so they think that’s why they come.

As we followed the water up the mountain and down again, I thought about our own life’s journey and that river. We, as carbon-based lifeforms, are made mostly of water. We are made of the same stuff rushing through the forest. As it runs over rocks and through the soils of the woods, over lichen and moss, it picks up minerals, and becomes something other than it was only a mile before.

It needs to keep moving. Stagnation is bad. I never let Tucker drink stagnant water, as bacteria and fungi can fester in the stillness. But moving water is healthy. And so are we.
​
​As we journey through life in our overwhelmingly-made-of-water transport systems, we pick up mineral deposits along the way. We crash down, sometimes from falls that feel as high as Multnomah cliff’s edge. We fall and shatter, rise up as mist, and fall again, changing form, yet remaining the same. We continue moving, as it’s the only way. If stagnate for too long, we start to spoil. We may rest for a moment in the pool, but we need to find the exit, we need to keep moving, keep picking up more goodness that makes us better along the way.

​The river’s journey takes the path of least resistance, but still encounters rocks and tree limbs to get around; it is a force unto itself, sometimes breaking through instead of going around obstacles. It carries with it that which it wishes to and leaves behind that which impedes its journey.

When we stand before the Falls here, it is not just our eyes and mind processing the beauty. It is our soul reaffirming that no matter how far we fall, we will rise again and keep moving. Our soul is resilient, it is water, moving through time from the beginning of existence through eternity. No matter what gets in our way, even if we are briefly stagnant as we find the path of least resistance, we will keep moving.

The journey doesn’t break us down; it makes us stronger, more complicated, and better equipped for what lay around the next bend.

Perhaps this all explains why I need to be in nature so often. I need to be reminded often that my soul can withstand the pressures of this earthly life. I just need to keep moving, rising and falling, crashing, and flowing, knowing that every surface I touch I am affected by. And every surface is affected by me.

In our journey, we join forces with other like-minded souls, and flow with them, affecting one another as we crash against the shores, tear through obstacles, and fling ourselves over the horizon. The force of the water, the extreme power of it, is only matched by that of each of our souls. We are all water, and each time we stand before a waterfall, our soul reaches out in recognition.

I am blessed to be able to experience such beauty, such soul-affirming works of art by Mother Nature. I am so grateful for all the fellow travelers I have met in this riverbed of life, and especially blessed to have my soul-dog beside me on so much of this journey. There will be Falls, there will be downed trees, there will be jagged rocks, but we will keep on moving, picking up minerals and making them a part of us. And eventually we will make it to the sea to rise into the clouds and start again at the mountain's peak. But the goal is not the ocean; the goal is to experience every moment of joy and beauty along the way, together.