PREMEDITATED SPONTANEITY

Over the last 20 years I’ve embraced the sport of waterfall exploration. Early on, before the internet became popular, I found waterfalls by looking for them on trail maps. These days, it’s much easier. Dozens of websites and books are available with directions to fantastic waterfalls. In recent years, I’ve been all too content to follow their lead. These sources have led me to some great places, but there has always been something missing. I’ve never discovered an undocumented a waterfall on my own. Recently, on a trip in the Thompson River Gorge near Lake Jocassee, I had an opportunity to do that very thing.

Last summer, Johnny took me for a ride on his sailboat on Lake Jocassee. On that trip, Johnny mentioned that he had never visited Big Falls on the Thompson River. I had been there twice myself, and told him I’d be glad to take him. Big Falls is one of my favorites, and I never need much arm-twisting to go back. Last weekend I finally made good on my promise.

I drove solo from Charlotte to the Bad Creek Trailhead on Saturday morning. On the way I passed through heavy fog and a bit of drizzle. The weather looked a bit discouraging, even though the forecast suggested that the worst of the weekend’s weather wouldn’t arrive before Sunday afternoon. Still, it was entirely too late to give up on the trip. All week I had suffered from a cold or allergies, and I had debated postponing the trip. I was looking forward to returning to the Thompson River Gorge though, and I had proceeded with the trip as planned. By Saturday morning, I was fully committed.

There were two other cars at the trailhead when I arrived. One of them had a couple of college-aged fishermen. Johnny joined me a few minutes later. He was ready to go. He threw his pack into my trunk and joined me for the short ride over to Brewer Road off of 281. While I was driving, I noticed that the sinus congestion I’d battled for the past week had suddenly disappeared. Apparently all I’d needed was some clean air far away from Charlotte.

Our plan was to follow an old logging road from highway 281 down to the Thompson River. After fording the river, we’d continue to follow the road through the gorge. Along the way we planned to visit several other waterfalls on the Thompson River, including High Falls. Our route would eventually join the Foothills Trail, which we would follow to the Thompson River downstream from Big Falls. We planned to camp there, and hike back up to Big Falls without the burden of large packs. On Sunday we’d take the Foothills Trail out to Bad Creek, where we’d left Johnny’s car.

I parked on the shoulder and gathered my gear and the dog. We headed into the woods on an old, gated logging road. After a brief climb, we began a steady descent towards the river. Along this stretch we could hear the waterfall on Reid Branch down to our left. I asked Johnny if he wanted to check it out, but he was inclined to save his energy for the more significant waterfalls farther on. I’ve always felt the same way, which is probably why I’ve never made it to that waterfall.

A few minutes later we turned off the main trail onto an older road. We followed this route high above the Thompson River. This road took us past some nice wildflowers, including several beds of Crested Dwarf Iris. After 15 minutes or so, we reached the obvious side trail leading down to the base of High Falls. From previous experience, I knew we’d have to wade across the river to get a good view of the falls. So we dropped our packs and switched from our boots to wading shoes.

The descent was a bit steep, but the trail was in pretty good shape. The hillside featured a number of Catesby’s Trillium, which offered some photo opportunities. Once at the base, we waded across the river to get a fine view of High Falls. High Falls on the Thompson is easily one of the nicest, and most photogenic, waterfalls in the Jocassee Gorges area. For once I actually had good lighting for photos here. The only challenge we encountered was spray and / or drizzle, which did create some difficulties with water spots on the lens.

After a short break there we headed back up the hill to resume our hike. We hiked the next stretch of trail in our water shoes, knowing that we’d have to wade the river one more time. We backtracked to the main trail, and descended sweeping switchbacks back down to the river. I waded straight across, through water that proved to be mid-thigh deep. Johnny was a little smarter, working his way through lots of overhanging limbs to avoid the deepest water. Once on the far side we switched back to boots and resumed the hike.

The next couple of miles were marred by dozens of fallen trees blocking the trail. We spent a good bit of the day climbing over, crawling under, and working our way around a wide variety of blowdowns. Needless to say, this made the hike a lot harder than I had anticipated. These conditions were my biggest concern before the trip began. Last winter was rough, and the route we were following isn’t exactly a maintained trail. In fact, this old road is definitely in danger of being reclaimed by nature.

We passed a couple of campsites near the river early on. After another 10 or 15 minutes we reached a fork. Initially I was puzzled. I didn’t recall any tricky navigation along this part of the route. However, with the old road obscured by deadfall, the main road suddenly looked about the same as the side roads. At this point I suggested we stay left, closer to the river. That way, we’d either be on the correct route, or we’d end up down at the river. If we found ourselves on the bank, we’d know that we had to turn around.

After a short distance we reached a steep side trail leading down towards the river. From the roar below, I was pretty sure that we were at the first waterfall on the Thompson River downstream from the ford. We dropped our packs there and headed down.

This waterfall isn’t as pretty as High Falls or as dramatic as Big Falls, but it’s nice nonetheless. It’s a lovely sliding cascade that reminds me of some of the waterfalls on the Tuckaseegee River in Panthertown Valley. We hung out by the falls for a bit, enjoying the roar of the water, before heading back up.

We had lunch upon returning to our packs. Afterwards, we continued down the gorge. We dodged more fallen trees before rock hopping a sizeable stream. A few minutes later we reached another steep trail heading down towards the river. I was pretty sure this one would take us down to waterfall #2 on the lower Thompson River.

We descended again, this time on a steeper, rougher path. We finally reached the river just downstream from an impressive waterfall. This one is a beauty, but it was somewhat lost in the fog that was gradually starting to fill the gorge. We attempted some photos despite the fog before making the wicked climb back up to the old road.

Once again we resumed our hike down the gorge. At this point, the river was far below, but from the roar I suspected that we were above Big Falls. A few minutes later we passed the well-marked route heading down to the base of Big Falls. We were both tempted to give it a shot, but I thought it best to wait. I’d reached Big Falls on two previous trips from the Foothills Trail without much difficulty. So, instead of attempting the descent in wet weather, we continued ahead, now following a section of the old road that obviously does not get much traffic.

Fortunately the trail conditions didn’t deteriorate further. Before long, we joined another road at a small fire ring. It’s tempting to bear left here towards the river, and it may be possible to get to the Foothills Trail that way. I steered us the other way though. We descended along a small stream and emerged on the Foothills Trail a few minutes later.

From there it was only a simple trail walk to camp. Along the way we passed a solo dayhiker on his way up from the river. The encounter was a little startling, as we hadn’t seen anyone else all day.

We cross the bridge over the river and took the campsite just downstream from the trail. This is a nice spot, as it is close to the river. We set up camp, and while we were exploring the area, we noticed a pretty waterfall on a small tributary just downstream.

By the time we had camp set up it was 5pm. I knew the hike to Big Falls would take an hour each way. We probably could’ve made it there and back before dark, but we decided to save it for Sunday morning. Our choice was a good one. A few minutes later it started to really rain. We got my tarp erected over the cooking area, and spent a relaxing evening there listening to raindrops splatter against the nylon. Later the rain subsided. Johnny shared some whiskey for happy hour, and I cooked us chili for dinner.

We both headed to bed early, and it rained again that night. I knew we were in for some wet, messy bushwhacking the next morning, but I was determined to get Johnny up to Big Falls. Fortunately I slept well for the most part. The white noise from the river and the rain drops on the tent fly created a pleasing lullaby. My only difficulty was occasionally waking up because the dog was sleeping on top of me.

At one point in the middle of the night Boone started pacing around the tent. I thought he needed to go, so I let him out. He eventually returned, but the next morning Johnny admitted to waking up startled to see a pair of glowing eyes just outside his tent. I think that must be one of Boone’s favorite jokes.

We were both up early the next morning. Sunday morning’s weather looked a lot like it had Saturday morning. It was overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining. We had a quick breakfast and organized our gear for the hike up to Big Falls. I decided to carry my pack, since I wanted to carry my camera, tripod, water, rain gear, and other essentials. This proved to be a bit of a hassle, as on several occasions a strap on my pack got snagged on a Rhododendron branch.

We started out by following the Foothills Trail away from the river. After a short distance we found a faint path heading upstream and back down towards the river. We followed this path, which quickly brought us to another campsite. From there we followed a faint trail, continuing upstream. Before long we reached a sliding cascade at an impressive swimming hole. The terrain gets rugged here, and all hint of a path disappears. Previous experience had taught me that going high from this point was the best strategy. We climbed the hillside above the river, struggling up the wet, slippery bank. Before long we passed along the base of an impressive rock face. Beyond that point, we had a decision to make: drop back down to the river, or climb higher up the hillside? We decided to go higher, as I knew there was a cliff shortly before the falls that we would have to climb around.

The bushwhack from here was much more difficult than I remembered. Newly fallen trees added to the challenge, and the wet conditions made for treacherous footing. The humidity was brutal, to the point that we were both stopping every minute or two to wipe off our glasses. Poison ivy was everywhere, and I did a thorough job of clearing most of the hillside of spiderwebs. To top it off, there seemed to be a lot more briars than I remembered. Why do all of the best adventures seem to involve briars?

We passed just above a high cliff and reached a small stream. Beyond, we passed through an open but weedy area. Here we got our first view of Big Falls. From our vantage point, the view was breathtaking. The river tumbled over a towering cliff a couple hundred yards upstream. Excited, we doubled our pace towards the base of the falls.

We worked our way down to the base of the falls a few minutes later. Our enthusiasm quickly faded, as we realized that the waterfall was fogged in. We could see the falls reasonably well, but photography looked hopeless. In addition, the bare rock on the right side of the falls was wet. When it’s dry, it’s fairly easy to walk up the rocks to explore the upper part of the falls. Today though, doing so would be suicidal. Our view of Big Falls today would be limited to the foggy vantage point at the base.

We loitered there for over an hour, but conditions failed to improve. While we were there, Johnny noticed that he’d lost his tripod somewhere along the way. Discouraged, we knew it was time to head back. We decided to try to follow our back trail so we could look for Johnny’s tripod, but we both knew it was a hopeless task. We tried to follow Boone most of the way, since he was the most reliable navigator among us. Overall we did a remarkable job of follow the same route, but Johnny’s tripod failed to materialize.

We returned to camp and had lunch before packing up. While I was eating I puzzled over the topo map. Before the trip, an unnamed tributary that joins the Thompson just downstream from our campsite had caught my eye. Judging from the map, it looked like there could be a waterfall on that stream shortly before it reaches the river. But what was the best way to get there? The previous evening I had considered having a look, but then it had started raining. From the map, it appeared that there were two possible approaches. One would be downstream along the river, and then up the tributary. The other possibility would be to bushwhack down from the Foothills Trail.

I decided to try hiking downstream. At the far end of the campsite I reached the top of a nice sliding cascade on the river. To continue from here, I would have to wade the river or bushwhack along a steep slope above the water. I decided to skip it. I’d had enough bushwhacking and wading for one weekend. Plus, the stream was an unnamed tributary. It would probably be too small to be worthwhile, anyway.

I returned to camp and packed up. Johnny and I headed out, crossing the bridge and climbing away from the river. Eventually we crested a ridge, and a loud, cascading stream caught my ear. It was the same creek I had considered bushwhacking to earlier, and it sounded promising. The creek was a long way down, but the woods were surprisingly open, and the terrain didn’t look too steep. Spontaneously, I decided to make an attempt at it after all.

Johnny had had enough bushwhacking for one day, but he agreed to wait there for me. I dropped my pack and Boone followed me as I headed down towards the sound of falling water. I wondered what I would find down there. A giant tangle of Rhododendron between me and the creek? Probably. A long run of rapids and cascades, but no waterfalls? Possibly. Of course, there was only one way to find out.

I was about halfway down when I realized that I might be on to something. I could see a fairly significant waterfall through the trees below. I got excited, and started to hurry down the hillside, which was now as steep as the one we had traversed below Big Falls. I realized that this was a bad idea when I reached the brink of a sheer cliff. Yikes! I worked my way around it carefully, and descended cautiously, through tangles of Rhododendron, to the stream.

Somehow I came out right at the base of a substantial waterfall. It is a fairly tall cascading waterfall, perhaps 60’ or so high. Below me, the creek fell more gradually, sliding over open rock. I was delighted at my find. I had spotted what I thought might be a waterfall on the map, and then I had gone and found it. Unfortunately, my new waterfall isn’t very photogenic. The upper part of the falls is shrouded in vegetation. Plus, there is nowhere to set up a tripod. My choices were to shoot from a waist deep pool of water at the base or from the middle of a rhododendron thicket. I squeezed off a few shots of the falls for documentation purposes, but none of those photos will win any awards!

The climb back up was wicked. I was pretty worn out from our hike to Big Falls, and I barely had enough fuel left in the tank to get back out of the gorge. I rejoined Johnny on the trail and hoisted my pack for the final few miles out to Bad Creek. As we walked, Johnny asked me what I was going to name my newly discovered waterfall. I suggested “An Unnamed Waterfall on an Unnamed Tributary of the Thompson River”. Johnny countered with “Boone’s Falls”, since he was sure that Boone had beaten me down there.

The hike out was pleasant. The fog finally lifted, and the sun even made an occasional appearance. The forest, cloaked in spring green, was lovely. We passed more wildflowers, and had the entire trail to ourselves. We reached the Whitewater River around mid-afternoon, and Johnny suggested a short walk up through Coon Den to see the big trees. For some reason I’d never hiked through there, so I was eager to check it out. We dropped our packs a short distance up the trail and walked under a vast canopy alongside the Whitewater River.

Coon Den offered a nice, flat walk through bottomland forest along the river. Tuliptrees dominate the forest, but the woods also featured White Pines, Hemlocks, and other varieties of hardwoods. After a short distance Johnny decided to stop and wait for me along the river. There was an unusual fog rising from the water, which was quite picturesque. I pressed on though, eager to see the rest of the trail. I was rewarded with more big trees and an assortment of wildflowers, including the first blooming Mayapples of the year.

I eventually rejoined Johnny, and we hiked back down to the spur trail leading to the Bad Creek Trailhead. There we ran into a large church group that must’ve been out on a short hike. Seeing all of those people after 2 days of almost complete solitude was a bit bewildering! We hiked out quickly, reaching Johnny’s car a bit later. Johnny then gave me a ride back up to Brewer Road to pick up my car.

Our trip was a good one, with lots of waterfalls, including one brand new one. We’ll have to return though, so Johnny can see Big Falls in good conditions. Plus, I still want to check out the lowest stretch of the Thompson River in South Carolina, just above where it enters Lake Jocassee. Hopefully we can get there on another trip on Johnny’s boat!

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