South Falls

And there she is, pouring off the brink right beside you. South Falls, the headliner everybody drives out here for, one clean ribbon of creek water falling the better part of eighteen stories into the green bowl below. Top to bottom in one unbroken fall, if you want it plain — straight down, no tiers, no steps, no second thoughts. Watch how the water leaves the ledge in a smooth glassy sheet, holds that shape for a heartbeat, then comes apart into lace and spray about halfway through the drop. On a bright day the mist rising back up out of the bowl will throw a little rainbow across the gorge, low and quiet, and it moves as you move. Look how far down the plunge pool sits, that dark churning green at the bottom — the creek has been hammering that one spot so long it's drilled itself a deep basin, and the falls keeps right on digging. Now look where the trail's about to take you. See how it ducks down to the left and disappears behind the water itself? That's where you're headed. In a minute you'll be standing in the hollow scooped out behind this falls, looking through it from the inside. Keep an eye on your footing as you go down, because the rock stays slick and the rail's your friend. Take the steps slow. The view of South Falls from behind the curtain is the one you'll be telling people about.