Lower Lewis Falls

“The sweetest song is silence that I’ve ever heard
Funny how your feet in dreams never touch the earth” – Heart

After I realized summer was quickly ending, I started buying permits for the spots I wanted to see while we still had warm weather. I reserved a cabin for the last weekend of September and parking permit for mid September at Lower Lewis Falls. The Lower Falls are like a hidden gem in Cowlitz County, 33 miles east of Cougar, WA on WA-503 (Lewis River Rd). It’s like a gem because it is so far removed from most of the large cities in Western WA. From my home, it is a three hour drive to get to the lower parking lot. And that is a long time in the car for anyone with a five year old. Stone and I broke up the drive by first going to my cousin’s place in Vancouver. She took over the driving from there in her truck. The area surrounding Mount St Helens and the Gifford Pinchot is her true home. She grew up in this whole area and knows each road and trail. I should also mention that Lisa is the whole reason I even made it down her way. With planning hikes and buying permits and working non-stop, I failed at remembering exactly WHEN I bought them for. Thankfully, Lisa keeps track of our visits and messaged me to ask if we were still on. What would I do without her…

Even with this distance, the falls have been one of the most popular spots in the Gifford Pinchot. And with popularity comes levels of thoughtlessness. A few years ago, the falls would have been surrounded by trash, aluminum cans, probably random shit and literal shit. The forest service started a parking permit system in 2021 to minimize the amount of traffic and trash in the area. Now, between June 15 and Sept. 15, you will need to pay $2 for a parking permit or face an $80 fine. And they were physically checking paper copies of permits for every vehicle that pulled into the lot.

As Lisa drive us on forest roads, Heart’s “These Dreams” quietly played on her streaming radio. It’s another one of those moments of singing mid-conversation cause you can’t help yourself. Or that might just be me. I love Heart dearly. The drive to the falls wanders through the forest, miles of firs and cedars punctuated by views of the Lewis River, the Swift Reservoir, and the Cascade Range. This is the ancestral land of the Cowlitz people. The Lewis River is fed by glacial melt from Mount Adams and flows about 95 miles, eventually finding its way to the Columbia River. The river is surprisingly not named after Meriwether Lewis, from the Lewis and Clark expedition that was continually fed to us in history books, but rather Adolphis Lee Lewis, a retired colonizer from the Hudson Bay Company that one day decided land near present day Woodland was his. He became the county surveyor in 1856 and named the river his name. Now, the younger me would have taken this as some random historical fact that was required to remember to pass state history. I had to do it for Arkansas State History in the 7th grade to receive credit to graduate high school. It’s amazing the things that were continually burned into our brains through repetition and blind trust in the education system. I still remember that the state flower (apple blossom), state bird (mockingbird), and state dance (square dance) for Arkansas. But I couldn’t tell you the stories and legacies of the Caddo, Quapaw, or Osage. And I would only know that the peoples of the Mississippi flourished from 1000 CE to 1541 because Google exists, even through I remember visiting the Toltec Mounds for school field trips.

But now, as an adult, it’s easy to see how naming natural features after yourself is as egotistical as it gets (apart from making a phallic rocket so you can just pass the invisible boundary between atmosphere and space). Sadly, it is also a common occurrence in history. The ancestral lands of the Cowlitz extend from the Columbia river north to the present day town of Mossyrock, fully encompassing the length of both the Lewis River and the Cowlitz River. The Cowlitz people also recognize the twenty or more tribes that existed in this region thousands of years before European colonization, calling this group the “peoples of the Lower Columbia River”. These are peoples lost to history, languages extinct, and legacies gone. The Cowlitz also understand the importance of recognition, only receiving federal recognition in 2020. For perspective, there are currently 567 federally recognized tribes in the United States. Meanwhile, there are dozens of tribes with tens of thousands of members that have not been recognized. Some have been waiting for more than 130 years for their right to sovereignty and federal support for housing, healthcare, and education which the US is legally obligated to provide via treaties.

From the lower parking lot, you can either hike the Lewis River Falls trail, an eight mile trail that will take you past three tiers of water falls. We decided to skip the hike, since we had kids with us, and go straight for the main attraction. The walk to the view point is brief and gives pretty epic views of the falls. The Lower Falls span 200 feet in width with the tallest drop at 43 feet. With our dry summer, you could sit at the top of the falls on the 90 degree ledge comfortably. But once again, we had kids.

So we decided to attempt climbing down to the base of the falls by way of a rope tied to a tree and a few roots. This is a pretty normal route to take which is why the forest service has provided a rope to help you navigate your way down. I posted these photos on Instagram with some folks questioning what was in my hand this whole time. It’s a Peace Tea can, Georgia Peach flavor. Lisa, found it hilarious that I was attempting this in sandals with a can in my hand and a five year old waiting for instructions. Yes, I did put my can down so I could instruct Stone with where to place his feet, how to make sure he had solid footing, and how to use the rope as a safety while still relying on his own balance and tiny confidence to get down. Once he was at river level, I ran back up to grab my tea and also navigated back down safely. I probably should have been drinking water but we had stopped at a small store in Northwoods and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Or maybe I subconsciously wanted to go back to the days of drinking a double duce at the skate park but know my 37 year old self can’t do those activities anymore. Side note on the sandals – these are the same sandals I wore on the Grove of the Patriarchs trail last month when I fell on a stick and punctured my foot. That spot is in the last stages of healing a month later. Finally. I find it amazing that I either injure myself or get a tattoo (which is basically a paid wound with consent) right before I have to move furniture for work. Do not recommend.

And just like in the photos I saw online, the falls are gorgeous. Even the view down the river, away from the falls, is gorgeous. I have found over time that I am a slow hiker for two reasons: one, I’m never in peak condition to do hikes that are rated as moderate or difficult. I have to stop to breathe. I have to use my inhaler. I need lots of water breaks. And two, I stop to look at everything. I look for spore cases (sporangia) on the underside of ferns while my hands gently graze the tops. I look at root structures and the beginnings of trees growing on nurse trees. I pick up Douglas fir cones that have been completely stripped by golden mantel ground squirrels. I look at rocks in river beds and study how the water has carved organic shapes and forms into the rock over thousands of years. I don’t know how I could not look for those things and the power behind natural forces…or the intricacies I will never fully understand within a landscape. But that shit blows my mind and humbles me beyond words.

As we all wandered in the river, I had to make my way closer to the falls. This required walking across the river, stepping on slippery rocks and underwater plant life. Stone stubbornly insisted he had to go with me, so we all decided to make our way across, aiming for the patches of green plant life that provided more stable footing. The kids used Lisa’s trekking poles, slipping and stumbling the whole way. I walked with Stone, telling him where to place his feet and reminding him to feel the ground before stepping, assessing if that step would be slippery or certain. Several times he fell and each time he got back up, determined to make it. I also have to add that I was not turning back so that decision was already made before we started. He freaked out in the deeper spots, but as soon as we had entered, we exited and he was playing in the river rocks. Lisa stayed with the kids while they threw rocks into the water. She caught these great photos of me as I was staring off into the distance and contemplating going into the falls to find a chill spot behind them. Remembering I had no back up clothes, I stayed out. I can handle wet sandals. I can’t handle cold, wet clothes. And yes, I am still drinking that tea can the whole time. These photos are so hilariously bad ass though. You’re the real MVP, Lisa!

In these moments, I appreciated even more that the forest service has started limiting the amount of people that can be in this area at one time. It felt like we had the bottom of the falls all to ourselves. There was a larger group of people at the top of the falls, jumping off the cliff into the pools below. The upper crest of the falls is accessible but with warning. One slip could lead to falling over the falls onto the rock shelf. On Sept. 30, 2021, this sadly happened when a 25 year old fell or was swept over the falls and pulled into the lower pool.

After getting lots of photos of the falls, and an obligatory selfie, we made our way across the river once more to where we started. While Stone may have done well on the trip across the falls the first time, the way back was much more difficult for him. I kept a tight grip on his hand, trying to keep his focus on his steps and not slipping. But he was not having it! He was cold and just done. So I caved in. I threw him onto my back to give him a ride through the toughest part of the river back to shore. I knew damn well that meant less stability for me and a harder fall if we both went down. I basically told Stone to stay completely still and hold on tight. We made it across with only one slip. Thankfully I caught myself before we went tumbling down.

Stone investigated the rock ledges, looking for spiders and little fish. While we were drying off and getting our last views of the falls, a Southeast Asian family made their way down the same rope path we took. I walked over to make sure that they were able to make it safely without falling or hurting themselves (one mother had a small toddler with her). Lisa and I smiled at the family and joked about how two local girls in lawn chairs drinking beer probably thought this family was “ruining” their view. The family was so sweet even though we faced a language barrier. One of the boys, maybe 7 or 8 years old, was looking through the same pools as Stone and found tadpoles. He scooped them gently into his hand and carefully ran over to show us, completely beaming with excitement. After showing us and his family, he placed the tadpole back in its pool. This interaction is why I will continue to state that the outdoors is for everyone. We all started from square one – learning how to hike, getting lost on trails or gravel roads, collecting gear once we got more serious, wearing the wrong size boots, and then finding appreciation in nature and with that stewardship.

I got Stone changed into some dry, warm clothes and helped him with his shoes. We got back to the truck and Lisa offered to drive us around the forest outside Mount St Helens. We got to talking about life and listening to music, missing trailheads but still enjoying the views. We passed the climber’s bivouac and parked in a gravel lot to eat snacks, take a pee break, and really take in the mountain. The kids ate PB&Js while I tried to really comprehend the size of this mountain. Mount St Helens is known as Lawetlat’la to the Cowlitz and Loowit or Louwala-Clough to the Klickitat. Once again, it was named after an English guy (diplomat Lord St Helens) that George Vancouver knew. Before the 1980 eruption, the mountain stood at 9,677 feet. After the eruption, it was reduced to 8,363 feet with a one mile horseshoe shaped crater. Even after losing over 1,300 feet of elevation, she looks massive. Lisa drove us to the lahar lookout after the kids finished eating. I never knew what a “lahar” is until I started working in Puyallup as a teacher. Once a year we had to do a lahar drill, completely evacuating the school and transporting students via bus to higher ground. And it all had to be done in under 15 minutes. We were instructed to basically grab our emergency bags and get on the first bus we saw. No roster list. A complete clean sweep. That’s when I learned that a lahar is an Indonesian word that describes the debris flow that originates on the slope of a volcano. It could be mud, weakened rock systems, rapid ice melt, and/or flooding caused by the breaking of a crater lake. The evidence left behind by this lahar valley, shows land carved out by a violent explosion with debris flowing from the crater to the North Fork Toutle River valley, eventually reaching the Cowlitz River 50 miles downstream, boulders the size of a on bedroom apartment ripping down trees and anything in its path. I won’t even start on pyroclastic blasts. Even with knowing this and SEEING this, I want to climb this powerful mountain. She’s still active and folks have been able to see steam vents in the crater from the summit.

Actually, one of the permits I had also bought was a summit permit for Mount St Helens. During peak season, from April 1 to October 31, permits are required to summit. In the summer months, 110 climbing permits are up for grabs for $15/permit. I got two so my friend and I could go together. But that damn COVID got in the way when Stone came into contact with a positive case at school. He tested negative but we still had to quarantine at home. Now, I can appreciate the time we had together to relax and watch Scooby-Doo each night. But at the time, I was pretty crushed. My friend still went and made it to the top with mostly clear skies and spectacular views. I have not given up hope that I may be able to squeeze it in since there are still permits available on several days. And those days just happen to be sunny on my 10 day forecast. I feel like I’m starting to become THAT person. You know, the one that skips out on work when it’s nice out so I can run away from real life for several hours. It sounds like a dream….except I will always need to prepare for the what-ifs and making sure my kid is safe while I am gone. That shit is a huge reality.

Lisa continued to drive us back to her house while the kids played in the back with toy cars and a fancy mask (as Stone is modeling below). Lisa is such a kindred spirit to mine. It’s nice to have someone you can both sit in silence with and talk about everything and anything going on in your lives. We got back to the house with enough time to move our gear from the truck to the Subaru, take a potty break, get in our hugs, and gas up and get food before getting on the road. Along with the reality of my kid’s safety while I’m gone, we were also facing the reality that his first day of kindergarten was the next day. Stone ate a cheeseburger before passing out for the whole ride home.

On Monday, we would start one of the biggest adventures of his lifetime in an uncertain time. He had his new shark backpack and shark lunchbox ready to go. We even got him a matching shark water bottle and thermos for home made hot lunches. He had all his masks washed and organized with little lanyards in the hopes he wouldn’t lose his masks. And we had been practicing wearing masks all day at daycare for two weeks. He had his ABCs down easy and could count to 50. The only thing I couldn’t be sure of was if he was ready to be in a big kid school, finding his classroom, getting into the routine, and managing his emotions. l also wouldn’t be sure how I would emotionally handle watching my only baby walk through the doors wearing his big backpack and mask.

But we would find out very quickly that he was more than ready…. and still in safe hands.