Refreshing! We stopped here after hiking the Naches Peak Loop. The first waterfall is only about a half mile hike, crossing a creek by walking across a log with a rope and a little bit of cardio on the way up to the falls. The paths here are a bit confusing. To get to the falls, take the path most traveled, heading upstream. It is worth it! We headed back after seeing the first waterfall.

We ended up doing this hike instead of Dewey Lake because of the weather. We started from the trailhead and climbed up towards the falls! It was awesome. We only got about two miles in before having to turn around since we came to a bridge that our dog, Barrett, would not cross. There was an earlier log bridge that we he crossed by darting around the stream, but this was moving too quickly for us to feel comfortable. The trail was in great condition, though I ended up spraining my ankle on a steep section thanks to Barrett pulling me down after becoming a bit too excited. Watch your footing, and happy hiking!

Wandering through basins and gaps in the Norse Peak Wilderness offers breathtaking views, changing scenery, and opportunities to spot elk and goats. We did a 3-day, 2-night backpacking trip, based on the Big Crow Basin Loop route description from Craig Romano's Backpacking Washington: overnight and multiday routes (2015). However, instead of following the clockwise route suggested by Romano, we did the following: Day 1: Norse Peak trail (#1191) up to Norse Peak, descending on the south side to Scout Pass (6 miles) Day 2: Scout Pass to Crown Point along the PCT, returning to Scout Pass via Cement Basin (#956), with a detour to Basin Lake (8 miles) Day 3: Scout Pass to Big Crow Basin via the PCT, then along the high trail overlooking Goat Lake, back down to the TH via Norse Peak trail (8 miles) We camped at Scout Pass where there is a horse camp with amazing views and good tree cover, but no water. We melted snow the first night. The closest water source is about .5 miles away, towards Basin Lake. There is also no water source along Norse Peak trail, nor anywhere on the PCT between Scout Pass and Crown Point, so carry extra. There are several small streams and tarns in Cement Basin, which might dry up later on in the season. Basin Lake and Big Crow Basin provide reliable water sources and good camping spots.

“Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God’s handwriting,” wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson. Few things capture the beauty and power of nature like a waterfall, which, according to Emerson, would be akin to God’s signature. As the water cascades over the edge and crashes down, I am reminded of the relative insignificance of man in comparison to the natural world. Up Highway 410, near the summit of Chinook Pass, is a small trail barely noticeable to the passerby. Part of the Okanogan and Wenatchee National Forest, Trail #965, or Union Creek, is often forgotten in the shadow of Mt. Rainier. I discovered this beautiful landmark almost ten years ago by accident and have been showing it to those close to me ever since. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest has enabled me to see many of the wonders of the Cascade Mountains and experience the raw beauty of snow-capped mountains, crystal-clear lakes, and roaring rivers. My father introduced me to the outdoors at an early age, taking me on overnight treks into the wilderness and on day-hikes with amazing views of the picturesque mountains-icons of the Pacific Northwest. Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. St. Helens are all within two hours of Yakima, and we have hiked all over -and around- these amazing monoliths. My friends and I had a tradition years ago, that on our days off we would go on day hikes. This served the dual purpose of exercising our dogs and enabling me to take photographs of nature. Photography has been another passion of mine, and it pairs with hiking like peanut butter pairs with strawberry jam. We drove up Chinook Pass this random Wednesday, and our plan was to pick a trail that we had never hiked before. We were almost to the summit when someone noticed a small blue sign reading “Union Creek Trailhead” and it was decided to pull over and investigate further. There was a small parking area with several hewn wooden benches for picnic lunches alongside a ‘low-flow’ outhouse. The smell emanating from the facilities was enough to discourage any eating within a 400-yard radius. Union Creek was not off to a good start. Having already stopped, with the dogs clamoring to explore, we decided to continue on. Less than a quarter mile along the trail we came to Union Creek itself. The trail intended to continue on the other side of the creek, considering one was brave enough to use the ‘bridge’, which was essentially a fallen tree. After carefully balancing over the creek, which seemed more like a class-four whitewater rapid, I was rewarded with my first view of the Union Creek Falls. I was not disappointed. As the creek meandered upwards, I could see and hear the waterfalls, a low hum in the distance. The trail snaked its way above the creek, moving upwards in the same direction as Union Creek. Ten minutes into the ascent, a small trail forks off the main one to the left. This is the first waterfall, the one visible from the river crossing, and the smallest. Giant boulders and fallen logs form a sort of natural dam which overflows, the water working its way down to the rocky creekbed. Green moss covers many of the rocks and logs giving a sort of youthful vibrance to the scene. It was here that I realized there was more. After enjoying the scenery for quite some time, we decided to push onwards, in the hopes of seeing the larger waterfall up close. The trail continued upwards, with a gain of some 400 feet from the trailhead. It should be noted that on this maiden trek the batteries in my camera died at the trailhead leaving me to photograph with my phone, a vastly inferior tool for my artwork. Out of breath and beginning to sweat, we took the small trail to the left hoping for some shade or some rocks to sit on and rest. This second trail dropped down, and the further we walked, the louder the roar became. As we came around a bend we were greeted with a breath-taking sight: a forty-five foot sheet of water crashing down into a rocky pool. I had never been so close to a waterfall of this size, and I was shocked at the amount of water it sprayed out. Even 100 feet away from the waterfall itself, it was like an April day in Seattle. Not even there for two minutes, everyone was soaked. The noise was something else I had not expected. It was like an 18-wheeler downshifting on the highway while an airplane started up. No words can do this justice, it was exhilarating and humbling at the same time. I knew immediately that this was a special place, one that I would definitely be revisiting time and time again. After the obligatory ‘profile pics’, our cadre of explorers climbed back to the main trail, which continued upwards stoically. Needless to say, we all returned within a month, and even after the weekly tradition of group hikes gradually discontinued, I still made an effort to visit Union Creek Falls at least once a year. One time, I brought my mother, my father, and my younger brother. My mother almost turned around at the log bridge, but through a time-honored combination of teasing, cajoling, and veiled threats, she continued on to visit the falls. “I couldn’t believe there was such a large waterfall, so accessible and still so unheard of,” she remarked, “I had so much fun with the family that day, taking pictures and climbing all over everything. Benjamin [my younger brother] even went for a swim in the pool beneath the largest waterfall.” The water is ice-cold glacial melt; it was a quick swim for Benjamin. “The hike was somewhat tiring, but it was all worth it for the view,” said Blake McClaskey, one of the ‘Original Five’ who discovered the falls, “I was just expecting a regular trail, with maybe some river access, but never full access to a fifty-foot waterfall!” I even took my wife there last summer, although this trip would be cut short thanks to the wildlife. We made it to the pool, and after staring at the cascading sheets of water while holding hands for an undisclosed amount of time, we decided to view it from above. “I was never really into camping, since I grew up on the West Side, but Peter really wanted to show me this waterfall. As we were heading down the steep trail to the edge of the falls, I felt a sharp pain on my calf. A wasp! I tried to continue on, but the area around the sting was becoming numb as it began to swell up. I didn’t want to disappoint my husband, but when he saw the inflamed area, he insisted on going back to Yakima immediately to visit a doctor,” recalls Sara Schilperoort. With the birth of our son this summer, we have not been able to return to Union Creek Falls, so it remains somewhat dubious in my wife’s memory. That is the beauty of a place like this: it affects everyone differently. My buddies and I initially discovered it as a place to get stoned and let our dogs loose, while my family and I enjoyed a deeper bond after visiting. My wife was in excruciating pain from the wasp sting, which was not dampened by the 45-minute drive back to Yakima from the trailhead. In spite of this unfortunate circumstance, we plan to take Parker and Lex there next summer, as well as some insect repellant...lots of insect repellant. I believe that everyone can enjoy Union Creek Falls, no matter what their physical fitness level is. If you enjoy the outdoors or are at the very least active, the hike up to the falls takes less than half an hour, allowing for frequent stops. If you hate sunlight and would rather stay at home watching The Price is Right reruns, this is still a doable hike. Simply pack a meal or two, several water bottles, and your iPod. The entire hike only gains 600 feet in elevation, and if adequate breaks are taken, one could still arrive at the pool beneath the fifty-foot drop with minimal exhaustion. Blake is six feet, two inches tall and weighs over 250 pounds, and he easily kept up with the group. My parents made the trek at fifty-eight years of age. There is no excuse not to go out and see for yourself the wonder and majesty of our Earth. Even if you hate the entire trip, you can tell others how you scaled a 100-foot sheer vertical cliff to this waterfall and killed Bigfoot on your way down. There are never any other hikers on this trail, so there will never be witnesses to refute your bold claims. You owe it to yourself and to Ralph Waldo Emerson to see this relatively unknown landmark of the Pacific Northwest.