Waterville Cascades, Waterville Valley, NH: April 19, 2003

Welch-Dickey Loop, Snow's Mountain, Waterville Cascades - Waterville Valley, NH
April 19, 2003

True to it's namesake, Waterville Valley was once most well known for it's aquatic attractions. The Mad River was an angler's dream and fishing reigned supreme long before this Valley became a destination resort. Fishermen followed the rapids of the Mad River into the once hidden gem now known as Waterville Valley. Tracing the source of the Mad River, one would eventually stumble upon Cascade Brook tumbling down the gully in between Snow's Mountain and the southern ridge of the Trypyramids. Where water flows downhill, often times water falls downhill. The so called "Cascades" of Waterville became one of the Valley's key attractions.

Fast forward to today and few people would think about Cascades and Waterfalls when discussing Waterville Valley. The Valley has been transformed into a destination resort featuring alpine skiing, cross country skiing, golf, and other such outdoor activities. The town has blossomed into a four season resort offering luxurious accommodations to only the richest of clientele. Those who enjoy their visits often return to purchase condos, timeshares, and their very own mountain side dwellings for when they want to escape from city life.

So the enjoyment of the many can be sacrificed for the enjoyment of the few. The enjoyment of the (multiple) land owning upper class. This field trip was a two-fold experience. One was to enjoy the hikes and waterfalls in the relatively snow free hiking trails of Waterville Valley. The other part of this trip was to document recent carnage to the North Face of Snow's Mountain. Once a ski area (now no longer in operation), the land around the ski area is being cleared, leveled, bull dozed, torn up, and destroyed. Multi-Million dollar houses for a single family or couple are slowly replacing the woods that everyone could once enjoy.

Thankfully, the Cascades fall in White Mountain National Forest Land and can not be touched.

The journey to the Cascades is detailed on my Snow's Mountain page in which I hiked up the ski trails of Snow's Mountain doing some recon work for Snow Journal and NELSAP. The recon work included photo documentary of Snow's Mountain before it was lost to condo development forever. After reaching the top of the old Double Chairlift, I ventured down a cross country trail for almost a mile before finally hearing the trickle of Water. Coming to a bridge fording Cascade Brook, I opted for a descent down the east side of the Falls.

I've never descended a Waterfall Trail before. Common knowledge seems to hold that ascending Waterfall Trails is better because you can view the Falls from afar and watch as the grow in grandeur before you as you near them. I was amazed to discover that descending a Waterfall Trail is rather compelling!

Cascade Path was covered in snow, much to my initial dismay. I had hoped for an easy descent on dry ground, but it was not to be. Trying to hold a line down the center of the trail where the snow was most packed, I slowly and carefully made my around large trees and into the first glen. Occasionally post holing knee deep through the snow, I managed to arrive at the first fall easy enough despite the snow cover.

The first of the three falls is short but sweet. Much bigger and bolder than the name "Cascades" suggests. I was in for more surprise at this understated name further down.

Auto Timers on Cameras rule when you are solo hiking. Much snow and ice still caked the edges of this wide drop. The water was rolling and tumbling down the granite slab after pouring out a short shoot. The rocks bordering the pond this waterfall dumps into made for an excellent and isolated lunch spot. I couldn't help but feel like a Moose was waiting rather impatiently for a drink at this pool! But despite my anxiety, no Moose turned up. Although I did later find Moose tracks during my descent on a cross country ski trail.

A more broad view of the second waterfall and it's pool. The brook continues below through a narrow and fast moving shoot dumping out into the most grand and picturesque of the falls. And unfortunately, the last one.

The final waterfall offers a double drop for a total of 40 feet of free falling water. Impressive to say the least. I continue to be amazed by the falls I least expect to be impressed by.

A "full frontal" view including a final "slide" of water at the bottom. The brook calms down from here and begins it's wandering descent down into the Mad River.

My journey was nearing completion, or so I thought. I had forgotten about the brook crossing just below the final waterfall. Snow Melt had caused a considerable increase in the brook's volume and velocity making a normally gentle and timid brook crossing a bit daunting and challenging. There was no way to cross the brook without getting my boots wet. And wet boots on rocks combined with a swift moving current and near freezing waters make for a bad combination.

I consider my options. Clearly fording the brook on boots is out of the question as the rocks were slick and my summer hiking boots hardly could safety hold any traction against the current. I decide to take off my boots and socks, hike up my pants, and ford the river with bare feet. Normally, this would be a minor inconvenience. But I found while testing the waters (figuratively and literally), that despite better traction and control than my boots offered, my bare feet only slightly improved my chances of successfully fording the brook and remaining dry.

A fall in the icy cold water could truly have proven fatal. I was hiking solo, so a fall causing unconsciousness would surely have swept me down the river causing a combination of hypothermia and smashed skull syndrome. I wasn't expecting any other hiker's to follow my path for the afternoon, so help most surely would not arrive if I became immobile. Even if I did not hurt myself in a fall, the icy water could have caused frost bite or hypothermia in the mild Spring temperature.

Every hiker reaches this point eventually on a hike. "Do I try this? Or do I turn around?" Turning around causes delays in ending an already long and tiring hike. Extra mileage and time delays translate into a sorry slog out through retracing tracks and taking the long way around. But for the first time in my hiking experiences, I tasted fear. I knew I was rolling the dice with my life if I even tried to cross. It was only six feet across from dry rock to dry rock. But it was a treacherous six feet that I refused to tempt fate with. I turned around and re-climbed past the three waterfalls.

Descending via the Cross Country Ski Trails, I made fast progress over the packed snow. Halfway down the trail, I spotted very big moose tracks in the snow. That familiar mix of curious apprehension seized me. I've never seen a moose or black bear in the wild. Part of me longs to see these magnificent creatures of the forest in their natural environment. However; another side of me realizes that these are unpredictable and wild creatures fully engrossed in survival of the fittest. While Moose and Black Bear attacks are rare, I can't imagine running into one of these creatures and not being struck with fear.

Soon the Moose Tracks disappeared into the woods. The Cross Country Ski Trail eventually disintegrated into a chaotic mass of destruction. Here was to be found the construction area for a future episode of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous." The ground was torn up, trees lay butchered, and the heavy stagnation of "civilization" had invaded a once quiet and peaceful forest. A few steps later, my boot sunk down into the mud. Down went my boot further still until knee was suddenly at ground level. An entirely unpleasant ending to an otherwise awe inspiring trip to the Cascades of Waterville Valley. If you have a few million dollars to burn, act quick! Your opportunity to own a house less than a mile away from the falls awaits....