For thirty-some years, I’ve found the cataracts and creeks of the Olympics some of the more beautiful places here on the peninsula. What they don’t have are lofty views, spectacular vistas, skyscapes of grandeur, and a deluge of people! On this particular hike, I found only a few footprints early on, which were mine from previous visits and not a single trace further up and the further in, to quote Lewis.
The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside (C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle).
And this is also true for these creeks. The video I posted above does not convey size or scale. Only the Hudson River artists could have done these places justice—exaggeration can reveal depth of reality beyond what just the eye can see.
Rivendale, Ithilien, Nimrodel. Tolkien knew these places in his heart and faerie tales: dreams and elven dance and delight of senses. They are where Elijah was fed by the ravens and where David and his band fled from their hunters. It’s where I flee the noise of the world and enter: where the clock stops once my foot slides into the cold clear water.
Just as Frodo and Sam were blindfolded when led to the hidden refuge of Ithilien, some places in the wild are meant to remain so. If you happen to know the whereabouts of this gem, please don’t let us know in the comments. Yet if you catch me at the entrance, I’ll be overjoyed to take you further up and the further in.
In college I was a caver. We traveled so many weekends to so many caves throughout the Southeast. Most had creek entrances, which led for seeming miles into the hillsides and mountains. Headlamps, backup gear, and helmets made it all so cumbersome. With creek-wading here, headlamps aren’t required. Unless you go at night! And these creeks are more alive: torrent salamanders, tailed-frog tadpoles, ferns, saxifrage, valerian, alder, salmonberry. You don’t find much life in a cave.
If you go creek-wading, felt-soled shoes are helpful. They cling strongly to the slippery stones. And watch out for the Olympic torrent salamander, especially on misty days, they tend to hang out on the rocks close to water. Most of these creeks are too dangerous to make it far. Quickly you run into towering boulders or tangled logjams or impassible unnamed waterfalls. Bring a friend.
Ithilien creek (I call it) carves its way through steep, narrow rock walls draped in vibrant green moss and maiden hair ferns, creating a lush environment that feels like a roofless cave or a lush Pacific Northwest version of a slot canyon. The path is the creek. Only slow, quiet wading and swimming through cold, clear water. Sunlight is patchy. Careful climbing is required over slick boulders and damp logs, if you hope to reach a 100-foot waterfall tucked behind and within vertical rock walls.
If you already are a creek-wader, then you’ll know to take care not to scuff the moss or tear into the saxifrage. This is God’s domain. Yet, like Eden was, it may be a place reserved just for you.
Note: Teaching begins again for me on Monday, so this Substack channel will grow more quiet than usual moving into the fall.
What a priceless experience David. Thanks for sharing the video.
Beautiful!