Kitsap Waterfall Survey: "Kerplunk Falls"

This fall was surveyed a while ago. But I had never written a post about it, so I have decided to fix that.

Lost Creek is one of the largest creeks flowing out of the Blue Hills. It comes down off the eastern slopes of Green Mountain and flows east until it joins with Wildcat Creek to form Chico Creek, which is has one of the best salmon runs on the Kitsap Peninsula. I had long suspected Lost Creek to have a fall somewhere along it's upper reaches, assuming it was a permanent stream. I made the 2 mile hike around Green Mountain to where an old logging road crosses the incipient creek.

Starting upstream, I almost immediately entered into a deep basalt gorge lined with old pillow lava, through which Lost Creek flowed. I scrambled and fought my way up the gorge, becoming rapidly frustrated with the lack of vertically falling water. Finally, probably about 300 or so feet up the canyon, I found a fall, sort of.

"Kerplunk Falls" 

As the creek takes a sharp righthand bend, it has become dammed up with a rather impressive logjam immediately over a small 10 foot basalt ledge. After filtering through the logjam, the creek plunges straight down over the drop, landing in a shallow alcove and continuing along its way. When I first observed this fall, the appearance of the logjam reminded me of the child's game Kerplunk and so I have tentatively named this small waterfall "Kerplunk Falls"

I suspect this canyon has more to offer above "Kerplunk," however at the time of the survey, I was too exhausted to continue further up the canyon, I scrambled up to the rim and began walking back down towards the road. As I walked down the slope along the rim, I noticed numerous signs of bear frequenting the area, A reminder that this is bear country.

Kitsap Waterfall Survey: "Contact Cascades"-My 20th waterfall!

Following my lecture at the Norm Dicks Government Building in Bremerton, one of the audience members came to me and told me of a waterfall on the Beaver Pond Trail within the Green Mountain State Forest. Their description seemed to indicate something small, but they insisted it was over bedrock, and so I decided to investigate.

As the wind howled through the trees and branches of various sizes fell all around, I hiked up the side of Green Mountain until I reached the Beaver Pond Trail. Within a few hundred feet, the trail crosses over Grata Creek, a stream running down the northwest side of Green Mountain. Grata Creek has long been on my radar, as it drops rather rapidly from high up on the mountain slopes before emptying into Tahuya Lake.

Lidar imagery map of Grata Creek. 

Even with these suspicions, I realized that most of the creek was bounded by private property, and so any falls and cascades would be inaccessible to me. Grata Creek originates on a spring fed lake tucked at the head of a forested valley at about 950 feet. The creek flows from this lake and bypasses another lake. It is after this second lake the creek steepens significantly and the private property begins. This is is the only place I thought falls would occur. I was wrong

Shortly after exiting its source lake Grata Creek meanders through some open pine forest, then less than a quarter mile later, it passes underneath the Beaver Pond Trail bridge, and immediately skips over a series of wonderful cascades over 20 feet in height, right next to the trail and very easily visible.

Bridge over Grata Creek

On my survey I was only able to observe 4 tiers in detail, there may be one or two below these, but I was unable (and really, unwilling) to fight through the thick brush to see them, so they will have to wait for a later visit. Of the tiers I did observe:

 The cascade begins with a five foot sliding drop over some beautifully dark volcanic rock called  Gabbro.

First tier "Contact Cascades" 

The second tier is a little more complex; two-thirds of the creek pours into a deep crack in the bedrock, while the remaining portion slides gradually down the rock. Here some interesting geology is seen. On the north side of the stream the bedrock is composed of the Gabbro the first tier goes over, but on the south side of the stream the rock is Basalt, which upon close observation, has even formed into small disorganized six-sided columns. In geology, the term used for where two different rock types meet is called a "contact." Thus, since this cascade appears to occur on a contact, I have named it "Contact Cascade."

Second tier of "Contact Cascades" 

The third tier is a small little three footer choked with forest debris and relatively ugly, the 4th tier is a long sliding cascade probably five or six feet high. After this the creek appears to go over at least one more drop, but heavy brush prevented me from getting an up close look.

Thanks to the person who suggested this fall to me. It is a great contribution to the survey!

One final thing to note, "Contact Cascade" is my 20th surveyed waterfall! Hard to believe I've made it this far after starting this project a year ago. Who knows, maybe I'll find 20 more!

Kitsap Waterfall Survey: "Downfall Creek"

"Downfall Creek" is the working name I have for the small creek that drops off the southwest side of Gold Mountain in the Blue Hills before emptying into Mission Lake. The creek is broken up into two main sections: The dividing line between these sections is a logging road located several hundred feet up the side of Gold Moutain which crosses the creek at an elevation of about 930 feet. Or 360 vertical feet above Mission Lake.

The lower section of the creek, which drops from the above-mentioned logging road down to Mission Lake, is probably permanent; during extremely dry seasons it may run dry, but based on the appearance of the canyon and the stream, it flows to some degree year round. Here the creek has incised a deep canyon has it flows down the hillside. In places this canyon is over 90 feet deep. The walls are covered in forest debris and thick stands of brush, making travel arduous and tricky.

Above the logging road, the creek forks into two smaller segments, it is unlikely that either of these are permanent. Despite this, there are reports of a 15' tall cascade somewhere along this section, at least when water is flowing.

My hiking partner and I surveyed the Lower Section of the creek on November 18. We started up the old logging road that headed into the clearcut, then cut cross-country and went into the canyon. Within moments of entering the canyon, we stumbled across a small, cascade, which almost didn't warrant a second glance from me. Then when my partner stood next to it. It became apparent the cascade just barely met the height requirement for my survey if you combined the two tiers, which were about 15 feet apart. The upper tier is a four foot plunge, while the lower tier is a six foot cascade twisting through a blocky chunk of basalt bedrock. For it's twisting appearance, I named this cascade "Corkscrew Cascade."

"Corkscrew Cascade" 

Moving up the creek, thick brush and extremely steep slopes forced us to cross the creek and scramble up to the rim of the canyon where we were assaulted by waist high brush and and unstable ground. Moving cautiously, we crested a rise, and my friend called out to me, pointing upstream. Looking towards where he was pointing, suddenly I saw it. Above us, and several hundred feet away, a streak of whitewater could be seen pouring over a rock face, disappearing from view into the canyon. We rapidly made our way to the fall, and scored.

Almost exactly halfway up the canyon, "Downfall Creek" drops over a 56 foot tiered waterfall. The fall begins with a six foot slide, where the creek gathers momentum before it rockets over a fifteen foot plunge into a narrow alcove which houses a shallow small plunge pool. Immediately following this plunge, the creek continues to cascade at least another 30-40 feet down to the bottom of the canyon below.

Looking over the brink of "Midway Falls" 

Continuing up the canyon, we travelled along the rim, having crossed the creek a second time. Several hundred feet above "Midway Falls," We viewed another waterfall. This fall is probably comparable in size to "Midway" but due to the amount of deadfall and debris impairing views of the creek and the falls it was hard to tell. I did observe one tier that appeared to be about 10-15 feet, high, and then a long series of steep cascades below that. Since I only viewed this fall from a distance and have not been able to accurately observe it up close it remains confirmed, but not surveyed on my digital map.

"Midway Falls" With hiking partner Spencer. 

Kitsap Waterfall Survey: "Heins Creek Falls" Revisit, November 15, 2015

Today I had the pleasure of leading two reporters from the Kitsap Sun newspaper to "Heins Creek Falls." A story by the Kitsap Sun is out to precede my lecture on Thursday.

The day started out almost perfect: overcast skies with almost no wind and a comfortable temperature. I had high hopes as I went through my classes of the day at OC. Unfortunately, Washington had other plans. As soon as I stepped foot outside the building of my last class the sky opened up, and continued raining for the majority of the day. At 2pm I was scheduled to meet up with the reporting team; they arrived right on schedule.

Not wasting any time, we trudged up to the railroad tracks and started toward our destination. We passed by Kitsap Creek, and peered up at "White Train Falls" through the trees; the water was tinted a slight tan color and roared through the canyon. With that much water I doubted I would ever be able to make it up to the fall the way I did before.

"Heins Creek Falls" at high water/flood stage

Finally, after what seemed like a long while of trudging through the ceaseless rainfall, we rounded the bend and the roar of a swollen Heins Creek came to meet us. Scrambling up the sopping almost unrecognizable path to the main tier, my excitement grew exponentially as more and more of the falls came into view; it was absolutely torrential.


Heins Creek was probably two feet higher than normal water level in some places. The main 20 foot tier, which normally is a graceful segmented sliding cascade, was a careening mass of foaming whitewater crashing down the basalt face. In some places, the water hit jutting outcrops of basalt with enough force to create small but powerful rooster tails. When the creek encountered the massive logjam, instead of draining through it, the astounding amount of water was forcing the creek to flow over the logs, plunging down into the large alcove. The final 10 foot cascading section was still recognizable, but a lot more violent as well.

As well as being extremely excited myself, I was pleased to look over and see the reporters with smiles etched on their faces. One remarked "I never knew something like this even existed in Kitsap, this is amazing." Watching waterfalls alone is one thing, but seeing people's reactions to their first sight of them sometimes is even better.

Video of the Falls. 

Waterfall Lecture, Thursday 11/19

To all readers and anyone who is interested. I will be giving a lecture on the Kitsap Waterfall Survey on Thursday, November 19, in the Norm Dicks Government building in downtown Bremerton. The lecture will be from 1:30-3pm You can sign up using this link! Seats could go fast!

Waterfall Wednesday: Bechler of the Yellowstone, Part Two

Following our arrival and viewing of Terraced Falls, our trip began to go south. The rainstorm which had mercifully dissipated before we arrived at Terraced had soaked every inch of the Bechler Region down to the core. Coming back through the once pleasant woods from Terraced Falls turned into a soppy, frustrating hell. While the rest of my group would have their sanity broken somewhere else along the trip, mine snapped here. Having rapidly lost my reserves of cheerfulness to the dull wetness and constant brush battle of the off-trail travel, it all came to head when a Yellowjacket slammed its sharped pointy end of pain into the back of my knee. The result was an instant reaction of pain and rage. Screaming expletives at every living thing within 100 feet, I raced ahead of my friends, trying to get as far away from the yellow and black flying demon that had just sent my once joyous afternoon screeching to an abrupt halt.

Crossing a creek in a less than jovial mood. Photo by Ryan Maurer. 

After regaining my composure somewhat and finally arriving back onto the trail, the trip continued on a more melancholy note, trudging the remaining 5 or so miles in on and off rain to our campsite at the edge of the North Fork Mountain Ash Creek. After quickly setting up camp, we donned our daypacks and made a beeline for our second waterfall goal of the trip. about three/quarters of a mile later, we crested a rise and got a face-full of spray rising nearly 300 feet up to meet us. Across the canyon, swollen from the recent rain; Union Falls roared 260 feet into the canyon in an astounding display of chaotic whitewater.

Union Falls at Sunset, Photo by Ryan Maurer

Below the overlook, a steep and slick boot path (No longer open I believe, and if it is, don't try it) led down to the base of this titanic giant, one by one our group descended. And several minutes later I found myself standing at the base of one of the most incredible waterfalls I've ever seen in my life.

The Base of Union Falls, with Will Boekel for Scale, Photo by Ryan Maurer

Standing at the base of Union Falls is chaos. pure chaos. The force of thousands of gallons of water slamming into rhyolitic bedrock after free-falling for over 100 feet sends tempestuous winds blasting outwards. horizontal streams of water trail downwind of any object within 50 feet, Talking here is almost useless, as you have to scream at the top of your lungs to be heard. After 10 seconds of standing 50 feet. from the base, you are utterly and completely drenched and shivering. As our group stood with jaws agape, eyes squinting upwards in complete bafflement, it made the whole hellish ordeal getting here worth it. Waterfall Goal #2 was a success. After saying our goodbyes to Union and heading back to camp, we started the discussion about our final prize, 2.5 miles upriver, the fabled 60-foot thermal fall, Morning.