Adytum Sanctuary Life: Goat Creek Falls ~ the Voice of Water

The many water features surrounding the “little Castle” as Italian artist, Arri, described Adytum owes its inspiration to the Pacific Northwest Rainforest. If you like the complement of water music ~ the language of the misty northwest forests as you climb through luxuriant foliage, Goat Creek Falls is your dream hike.

Nearly every step is accompanied by the happy gurgle of brooks; the rush of falling water and the tumult of cascading falls at the climax of the trail particularly after snow melt in early spring. Birdsong echoes from the limbs of a thousand trees in this old wood. Like Muir says, “the songs of the water, wind and birds” – all meld into an incitement to gain strength and peace as you’re drawn deeper into the emerald enchantment and mystery of this moist woodland.

At summer’s end the flow of the falls is reduced to a gentle curtain of iridescent raindrops with the finest spray as a reward for reaching the top. After a dry summer, it is a miracle there is a mist at all. Standing under the fall on the narrow trail, the mist caressing my face I watch the curtain of water falling onto an ancient flood boulder before cascading down into the creek below.

It reminds us “everything is flowing…going somewhere”. Life in the profound serenity and holiness of the forest is vibrating with passionate energy and distinct intention despite the relative stillness.

The fall’s rock face truly is magnificent and standing behind the effervescent veil of water is exhilarating in early spring and restful in summer. It extends the summons to achieve oneness with the flow of all nature…We have a goal to hike all the waterfall trails as soon as snow melts next year to experience the force of nature’s pure wildness celebrating in her most rambunctious style.

The beauty of this trek is that it is only about 30 minutes from Adytum near Riffe Lake. Goat Falls captures the feeling Rumi reflected when he said “we have fallen into the place where everything is music”. The combination of intense, lush beauty and soothing water-music is unbeatable.

The proximity is prized by guests that want to enjoy the magic of Adytum without long jaunts to far off excursions. You can stop back into the Bean Tree or Plaza Jalisco in Morton to refuel. Also, the locals tell me that Morton Meat Market has the best beef jerky anywhere. I wouldn’t know, but I do go in to buy raw dog bones for the pack and there is always a line in front of the meat counter.

If you have four-wheel drive great. If not, there was only other car parked at the trailhead when we drove out on a Saturday afternoon - a Hyundai with two-wheel drive - so despite the potholes and oftentimes deep ruts, you can probably negotiate the 4.5 miles of gravel road off the main road to start your exploration. There are no services, so handle that beforehand or brave the steep cliff and some fancy balancing footwork to find the notoriously large girthed tree.

Before you cross the fishing bridge over Riffe Lake, you will see hang gliding enthusiasts who flock to Dog Mountain for great hang gliding at the head of the lake. The breezes blow off the lake pushing up the steep cliffs creating thermals that allow gliders to stay aloft. There are always a lot of fishermen fishing off the bridge which speaks of the bounty of these Pacific Northwest Waters.

The hike starts at a narrow trailhead and teems with spectacular vegetation instantly like a staged Home and Garden Show. Muir described such a wood, “a fairyland created out of the commonest fern-stuff”.

Profuse stands of maidenhair ferns with its arching fronds, Hart’s Tongue Fern, light green deer fern and lady fern – the quintessential feathery fern with the black frond emerges in every crevasse of the rock walls that interrupt the vegetation flow. Knickinick, coral bells and tiny fir, hemlock and cedar trees line the trail.

Moss lines every open space and we stepped over an abundance of leopard and banana slugs. It is another world…restfully cool and tranquil…and yes, magical. With the prehistoric heritage of ferns, it could be a time warp from thousands of years ago. Enter in...

After a steep incline we look into upper boughs of ancient Fir and Big Leaf Maple with Polypody Fern – epiphyte -ensconced in the curve of massive limbs.

“Epiphyte give the architecture of a tree or a shrub a complex fenestration that confers age and complexity.” (Native Ferns, Moss & Grasses, William Cullins)

Then, the forest descends sharply. Earlier we passed four men amusing themselves rolling rocks down the cliff. The extreme brink of the edge of the path traveled one at a time asserts a silent warning all along the way. No daydreamers here.... Lightening fires leave their mark on many old trees hollowing out some for owls, woodpeckers and the brave creatures of the wood. We don’t see them but we know they are watching…

“I am never alone in the wild forest, this forest of elders - this forest of eyes.” Richard Nelson.

With the profusion of ravaged bark, the evidence was clear; a large bear had been scraping Western Red Cedar, dislodging rotting bark in search of ants achieving an 8’ reach. We saw a porcupine and a bird carrying what appeared to be another bird in its talons. We lost count of the waterfalls we waded through on the trail; wear waterproof shoes or do the big leap.

This is a treacherous trail, not for children, elderly or those unsteady on their feet; that warning includes many dogs. Our Borzoi would careen herself right over the sheer cliff in the course of racing along in her joy on the narrow single track. Sadly a horse plunged to its death in an area under the waterfall where slippery shale lines the trail.

We later learned, after posting this horrific picture on Face Book, that someone had let two horses go in the forest to fend for themselves over the hard winter projected for this year. After many comments in response to the picture of this horse, some other options emerged for caring for horses owners can no longer afford to feed. It was shocking, unforgettable and I hope to never see anything like this again.

Albert Einstein reminds us that “our task is to widen our circle of compassion to embrace all living beings and all of nature.” There is always a gentle option.

If you’d like to experience this hike, take Hwy 12 to Glenoma Road/Riffe Lake, turn right, go a few miles on the paved road; cross the fishing bridge and turn right. You will see the sign “4 ½ miles to Goat Creek”.