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.