North Carolina Waterfalls

By Kevin Adams

In this third edition of his classic photography/hiking guide, Adams showcases his own beautiful color photographs. This complete compendium lists 1,000 waterfalls, and Adams specifically highlights more than 300 of the best waterfalls found in North Carolina with full descriptions, comprehensive directions, and four-color photographs. Since the first edition of Kevin Adams’s North Carolina Waterfalls in 1994, this book has sold almost 65,000 copies. In that time, Adams has established a widespread and well-respected reputation as a photographer, naturalist, writer, and teacher.

From its comprehensive coverage and detailed trail directions, to its helpful photography tips and beauty ratings, the new North Carolina Waterfalls remains the definitive guide to its subject.

In addition to North Carolina Waterfalls, Kevin Adams is the author of seven additional books and their numerous revisions. He has taught nature photography seminars since the early 1990s and leads popular tours in the N.C. mountains to photograph waterfalls. He is the man behind Digital After Dark blog and the free Night Photography News e-newsletter. He lives in the mountains of North Carolina.

"Readers will appreciate Adams’ comprehensive coverage, his concise driving and hiking directions, his helpful photography tips, and his emphasis on stewardship of natural resources. North Carolina Waterfalls remains the definitive guide for its subject and a must-have for nature loving natives and visitors."—Internet Brothers: Meanderthals Hiking Blog

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blair
• Release date: Jun 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781949467482

Kevin Adams

Kevin Adams is a husband, father and Christian blogger. Kevin is the founder of the Wake up My Faith blog, and a former successful businessman, who, after losing everything he worked years to achieve, walked away from the rat race to pursue an authentic relationship with God. A native of Jacksonville, Florida, Kevin now lives in Franklin, Tennessee, with his wife and three children.

Book preview

VISITING NORTH CAROLINA WATERFALLS

Waterfall Safety

It is said that waterfalls are dangerous, but that’s not quite true. What is true is that people put themselves in dangerous situations at waterfalls. Waterfalls don’t reach out and grab people and fling them over the top. People get too close, too careless, too caught up in the moment, and the next thing they know, they’re in trouble. Waterfalls don’t care if you have a job to return to or a spouse and kids waiting at home.

Admittedly, the very nature of hiking trails and viewing waterfalls means you’re putting yourself into a potentially dangerous environment. The answer is not to stay home but to use common sense. Just as you wouldn’t cross a street without looking both ways, you shouldn’t blithely scramble around a waterfall without considering potential dangers. Keep the following in mind on your next waterfall outing.

Don’t Go Near the Top. It’s foolish to get too close to the top of a waterfall. Always follow this rule of safe hiking: Never put yourself in a position where you will be harmed seriously if you fall. No matter how capable you are, when you stand at the edge of a cliff or waterfall, the slightest distraction can startle you.

Don’t Climb on Waterfalls. Experienced rock climbers don’t attempt some of the things you’ll see casual tourists doing at waterfalls. It is simply not safe to climb a waterfall without proper gear and training. You might think it’s no big deal as long as you don’t go very high, but it takes only a few feet to twist an ankle or break a leg.

Stay Out of Swift Currents. Stream currents are stronger and the water colder than most people realize. It takes only a few inches of water in a fast-moving stream to knock you off balance. If you fall in, you can quickly lose control and become trapped in the current. Never cross a stream anywhere near the top of a waterfall.

Be Aware of Slippery Surfaces. The most common mishap at waterfalls is slipping on wet or algae-covered rocks. Admittedly, some rocks are not slick even when wet. The trouble is that these rocks are difficult to tell from the dangerous ones. Even dry rocks can be slippery. It’s impossible to see the waterfalls in this book without stepping on a few rocks, but you can do so sensibly. Until you are sure of the footing, crouch low and inch yourself along.

Support Those Ankles. Most people who hike to waterfalls in summer wear sneakers or sandals. In the past couple of years, I’ve seen a lot of toe shoes on the trail. Even in winter, sneakers are the choice for many people. If the trail is relatively tame and you don’t plan to creek walk, such footwear may be fine as long as you watch your step. But it takes only one loose rock or misplaced step to twist an ankle or cause you to fall. And when you’re creek walking, you can’t always see the next step. I recommend wearing ankle-supporting hiking boots for all waterfall hikes.

I know, wearing hiking books won’t go over well for many people, especially when wading is involved. I wear wading sandals when I’m creek walking near the car or in relatively calm streams that don’t require rock scrambling. But for the tough stuff, I plunge through the creek in hiking boots and synthetic socks. Boots provide not only ankle support but also insulation. Once you get over the initial shock from the cold water, hiking boots and synthetic socks act as a wet suit, allowing you to remain in the water for long periods unless it’s very cold. Wearing boots, I can wade creeks during winter, which would be impossible in sandals.

Bushwhacking. To see many waterfalls, you have to hike off trail. Even when a trail leads directly to a waterfall, you might want to maneuver to get into a better position for a photo. Always keep in mind that when you leave a trail, the possibility of injury increases significantly. Ankle-supporting hiking books are a necessity for bushwhacking.

What’s Out There to Get Me?

Bears. Invariably, when having a conversation with someone who has just learned that I spend a good portion of my life traipsing through the wilderness of the North Carolina mountains and, heaven forbid, actually sleeping on the ground, the first question I’m asked is, What do you do about bears? My answer is that I don’t do anything. They do their thing, and I do mine. In all my travels, I have encountered bears fewer than a dozen times. Each time, I considered it an honor.

As long as you use common sense and leave bears alone, they’ll probably leave you alone. Don’t throw food at them, and don’t run from them. If a bear acts aggressive, stand your ground and raise your hands slightly to give the impression you’re bigger than you really are. Shout or throw rocks if necessary. If a bear charges, it’s most likely a bluff. It’s a tough proposition to stand your ground against a charging bear, but that’s what the experts say to do. If you absolutely must, throw your pack or lunch sack at the bear to give yourself an opportunity to escape. Do this only as a last resort, though, since this only encourages bears to become aggressive.

Finally, experts say that if a black bear does make contact and continues attacking, don’t play dead. That works only with grizzlies. If a black bear continues an attack, it might consider you a food source. In that case, you should fight back as aggressively as you can.

Snakes. The second most frequent question people ask is, What do you do about snakes? Snakes and I get along just fine because I let them do their thing. Rattlesnakes and copperheads are most likely the only poisonous snakes you’ll encounter while visiting waterfalls in North Carolina. I’ve encountered a few copperheads and many rattlesnakes, and each time the snake and I agreed to leave each other alone. Snakes are good like that. Leave them alone and you have nothing to worry about. But you have to be careful to leave them alone. Don’t step over a log without checking the other side, and don’t stick your hand in some crevice without looking in first. Pay attention to where you put your feet and hands and you’ll be fine.

Bees. Those mean little yellow jackets have a nasty habit of digging nests right along the paths to waterfalls. I know because I’ve been stung more times than I can count. In western North Carolina, they are most active and likely to sting during August and September. If you do much bushwhacking during these months, you should expect to get stung. Yellow jackets build their nests most anywhere, and there isn’t much you can do to avoid them. Of course, you should keep your eyes open. I’ve avoided many encounters by spotting them first, but I’ve also been attacked unaware. If you’re hiking with friends, perhaps the best thing you can do is take the lead. The first person of the group stirs up the bees, while the second usually gets the most stings. Just don’t tell your friends why you insist on leading.

Poison Ivy. Now, here’s something I worry about. I break out just from looking at pictures of poison ivy, so I definitely pay attention to it on the trail. It’s common all over the North Carolina mountains, especially in open and dry areas. Any part of the forest having some sort of human disturbance is likely to be home to poison ivy. The best medicine is definitely preventive. Learn to identify it before you hike, and just stay out of the stuff.

Wood Nettle. You might not know about this menace, but if you brush against it while wearing shorts, you’ll quickly learn. Examine a nettle plant closely and you’ll see thousands of tiny prickles all over the leaves and stem. They sting like fire when you brush against them. I’d almost rather be attacked by yellow jackets than to endure a patch of stinging nettle. In the trail descriptions, I point out some of the worst locations, but I urge you to learn how to identify this plant before heading out for a summer hike.

Wood nettle is commonly called stinging nettle. I called it that in the last edition, but I decided to use the more accurate name in this one. Stinging nettle, Urtica dioica, is more common farther north. Wood nettle, Laportea canadensis, is the nettle you’re likely to encounter in the North Carolina mountains. Regardless of what you call it, you don’t want to brush your bare skin against it. I can’t stand to wear long pants in warm weather, but I know it’s the smart thing to do if there’s any chance of encountering wood nettle. Unfortunately, there’s always a chance on a summer hike, particularly a bushwhack.

Hypothermia. Hypothermia, the lowering of the body’s core temperature to the point that organs can’t function properly, is serious business. Symptoms include uncontrolled shivering and slurred speech. A number of factors contribute, but cool air, wetness, and wind are the main causes. Being dehydrated or hungry makes it worse. You might think this can’t happen to you. After all, you’re just out on a short hike to make a few photographs. That kind of thinking makes you a prime candidate because you’re not taking matters seriously. You could get into trouble before you realize it.

Hypothermia is most likely to occur on long or overnight hikes. Photographers especially put themselves into situations that increase the danger. We often remain still for long periods, sometimes even standing in cold water, and we can become so caught up in getting the shot that we don’t pay attention to physical discomfort. Ignoring discomfort is one thing, but engrossing yourself to the point of not thinking about safety is quite another.

If you hike alone, pay attention to your physical condition at all times. At the slightest hint of discomfort from cold—shivering, sluggishness, a slow mind—stop whatever you’re doing and make your body comfortable. Eat and drink lots of water. Don’t wait. A nasty symptom of advanced hypothermia is a sense of being too warm. Hypothermic victims often strip off their clothing because they think they are too hot, when in reality they are freezing to death.

Hypothermia can happen in surprisingly warm temperatures. In winter, hikers usually go out prepared for the cold. In spring and fall, it’s easier to be caught off guard, especially if it rains. The first time I explored Greasy Cove Prong from beginning to end, the temperature was warm enough for me to wear short pants and sleeves. But it poured rain, and I was soaked just a few minutes into the hike. Then I had to wade in the flood-swollen creek. After a couple of hours, my hands felt numb and I was becoming chilled despite the relatively warm temperature. I realized I was experiencing the early stages of hypothermia. Since I still had a four-hour hike back to the truck, I stopped exploring and headed out as quickly as possible. After an hour of brisk hiking, I felt fine. But I knew that if I had stayed with the waterfalls, standing still for long periods making notes and taking pictures, the situation would have escalated.

Don’t Drink the Water. Don’t consider any backcountry water safe to drink, no matter how clear it appears. Numerous bacteria and viruses are present in streams. Some, such as Giardia lamblia, can make life miserable. Even spring water isn’t reliably safe to drink without treatment. Take water with you, or carry a filtering device or purifier.

Dead Hemlock Trees. I’m saddened and just plain teed off that I have to include this entry (see Hemlock Horror, page 7). From a safety standpoint, you should always be aware of what’s over your head on any hike in the North Carolina mountains for the next few years. All of those dead hemlocks are going to fall. In fact, the situation is so serious that I would not make a hike in high-wind conditions unless I knew no hemlocks were along the trail, which would pretty much rule out any hike under 5,000 feet in elevation. I know of at least one death that occurred when a falling tree hit a hiker, although I can’t say it was a hemlock tree in that case. I also know from firsthand experience and accounts from others that dead hemlocks pose a serious problem when bushwhacking on steep banks. Do not use one as handhold.

Environmental Considerations

Some people think outdoor guidebooks cause harm by bringing people into the wilderness, and that those people will destroy the very reason the wilderness is so appealing in the first place. I agree with that reasoning to a point, and I admit to having mixed feelings about including some of the information in this book. If we did not live in the information age—when people can touch their phone and find everything imaginable—I don’t know if I would have written this book the same way. What has become evident to me is that people have an insatiable desire to get outdoors and experience everything they can, and that they are looking for information about places to go and things to see. Unfortunately, some websites and books provide information that is inaccurate at best and dangerous for both people and the environment at worst.

I think we need to encourage more people to go outside. That’s the only way we can protect the natural areas we have left. As for the skeptics, I ask, how can you expect people to support environmental legislation if they never experience nature? Yes, books like this mean some trails might become overcrowded. But the answer to overcrowding in the wilderness is not to keep people out. The answer is to create more wilderness.

Nature guidebooks serve another useful purpose besides exposing people to the outdoors. That is, they inform readers how to have the least impact on the environment. For instance, most hiking guides include detailed information about no-trace camping. As a teenager, I had never heard that phrase. I learned about no-trace camping from a hiking guide. Seasoned hikers sometimes don’t understand that most people don’t have a clue what to do once they get 30 yards from the car. They need and want information. Outdoor guidebooks provide that information.

My goal with this book is to equip readers with detailed and accurate information so they can enjoy waterfalls and wilderness while taking care to preserve them for those who follow. I don’t think excluding numerous waterfalls or evading honest information for the sake of political correctness is the way to go about it. That said, I will admit to excluding some waterfalls—some quite impressive—that I suspect few people know about. It’s not because I want them just for myself. Some are so environmentally sensitive that I thought it best to let them be. And some, to be honest, affected me in such a way that it just didn’t feel right to expose them to the world. I harbor no illusions that they won’t show up eventually on someone’s Facebook page, but at least my conscience will be clear.

Throughout this book, you’ll read comments about environmental topics. Two especially important topics apply to all waterfalls.

Soil Erosion. Waterfalls often occur in steep ravines covered in a thin soil layer. Probably the most damaging thing you can do at a waterfall is climb on the banks and dislodge the soil. Try to stay on the main paths. Photographers in particular should think about this, since they often climb around trying to find the best vantage point. After taking a picture and packing your gear, take a glance back at your shooting spot. Does it look like you’ve been there?

Impact on Plants. Plants blanket the southern Appalachians. It’s impossible to hike the woods without trampling a few, but you should be careful to impact them as little as possible. I purposely avoid hiking in some areas during spring, when I know wildflowers grow on the slopes. When hiking these areas in other seasons, I’m still very careful not to dislodge the soil if I can help it, as this impacts the plants even if they aren’t above ground. It’s especially important to be careful around waterfalls. That’s because a unique natural community called the spray cliff exists at many falls. Constant moisture from waterfall spray and the general sheltering from sun and wind create a relatively stable environment with a fairly constant year-round temperature. Many plants that grow in this environment are extremely rare. Some are known from only a few sites in the world. Many of the rare plants of this environment are bryophytes, including mosses and liverworts. That mossy rock you’re about to step on could be home to one of the rarest plants in the world! It’s best to treat all plants growing near waterfalls with extra care.

Waterfall Names

Back in the early 1990s, when I was researching the first edition of North Carolina Waterfalls, I depended on printed material and firsthand communication for the names of waterfalls. The Internet did not exist for most of us. No smart phones, apps, Facebook, or blogs. If a waterfall had a name, it was usually widely accepted, and any other names for it were historical or otherwise not generally used. Now, hundreds of waterfallers are crawling all over the mountains, many of whom love to name waterfalls. If it doesn’t already have a well-established name, they give it one. Trouble is, they are in many cases assigning names to waterfalls that already have established names. And even if the names are not established, there’s a good chance someone else has already discovered the waterfall and made it public. And in my mind, that takes away the naming rights for any who come afterward.

Before I go any farther, let me stress that there is no such thing as the Waterfall Naming Police. You can call a waterfall anything you like. You can publish that name in a book, on a map, or on your Facebook page. But with so many people assigning names to so many waterfalls, it’s chaos out there. It’s becoming difficult to determine which waterfall someone’s talking about. Frankly, it has become tiresome seeing all these new names when I know the namers learned about the falls from someone else. And I know that the namers often know they aren’t the first to find the waterfall. Many times, people learned about them from this book or from Rich Stevenson’s website, www.ncwaterfalls.com. I guess people think that if we didn’t give the waterfall a name, it’s okay for them to do so. And again, it is okay. You can call a waterfall anything you like. I’m just not likely to acknowledge it if I know you weren’t the person who discovered it and make it public. (I use the word discover loosely here. No one alive was the person who discovered any waterfall in North Carolina.)

For what it’s worth, here’s my proposal. If you find a waterfall that’s not in this book or on Rich’s website, or that doesn’t appear to be listed anywhere else, you have the right to give it a name. But if you learned about the waterfall elsewhere, you have no legitimate claim to it. Even if you thought you were the first and discover later that someone else beat you to it, you give up the naming rights.

You might think I’m being overly sensitive about this. Please understand, I honestly don’t care whether you call it Whitewater Falls or OMG Falls. But if you publish that name—either in a book or on a map, the Internet, or a wooden sign you nail to a tree beside the falls—you’re contributing to the chaos.

In some cases, people have named waterfalls even though they were aware they already had accepted names. A good example is Bird Rock Falls on North Fork French Broad River. It has always been called Bird Rock Falls. It’s Bird Rock Falls on the USGS topo map. But its new owners decided to change the name to Cathedral Falls. To me, that waterfall is Bird Rock and always will be. I have included Cathedral as a secondary name in this book out of appreciation to the owners for allowing the public to visit the falls. Of course, the folks at Living Waters Ministry can call it whatever they want. It’s their waterfall. I’m just saying that I will not contribute to the chaos by acknowledging indiscriminate names.

I have to admit, I’ve never been fond of naming waterfalls—or anything else, for that matter. In a way, when we name landmarks, we are asserting our dominance over the land. I have a particular distaste for how we obliterated most Native American names.

This philosophy is the primary reason why I chose not to assign names to waterfalls in the first two editions of this book. I chose instead to assign designations—for example, Waterfall on Long Branch. And if several unnamed falls were on the same creek, I used numbers for them, like Waterfall #2 on Lower Thompson River.

Now, 22 years after the first edition and 11 years after the second, I realize this was a mistake. What I intended as simple designations became actual waterfall names in themselves. Now, everyone calls that incredibly beautiful waterfall on Thompson River Waterfall #2. No waterfall deserves to be called #2. It’s a crappy name.

In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. I also did not fully grasp the power of the printed word. A book possesses a certain authority, deserved or not. The Internet is similar, though on a lesser scale. Much of the content there is little more than regurgitated information taken from my books or Rich’s website. Rich’s site is the only one I’m aware of that has achieved an authoritative level. Names that Rich gave to waterfalls 10 years ago are now firmly established among waterfallers.

In some cases, indiscriminate waterfall naming can have serious consequences. A good example is Paradise Falls on Wolf Creek. Years ago, some students from Western Carolina University told me the name. Subsequent conversations with several other people confirmed it. It wasn’t until a few years after the second edition that I learned the name is incorrect. Locals have always referred to the waterfall as Wolf Creek Falls. Paradise Falls, to them, is a nearby Tanasee Creek waterfall on private property. I’m guessing that some college student got the names confused and began calling the Wolf Creek waterfall Paradise Falls. The falls is a popular hangout for WCU students, and the name stuck. Unfortunately, and to my chagrin, I’m more responsible than anyone for perpetuating the error. I printed the name in a book! All of a sudden, people who had no idea the waterfall existed started calling it Paradise Falls. The serious consequence of this is that the local rescue squad sometimes doesn’t know which waterfall it is supposed to go to when a call comes in. The falls on Wolf Creek sees a disproportionate number of accidents, perhaps because alcohol and college students don’t make a great pair at a waterfall. When the rescue squad gets a call for Paradise Falls, it can’t assume it’s for the waterfall on Wolf Creek just because it’s more popular. Someone could be hurt on the real Paradise Falls.

Because of all this, I decided to take a different approach in this edition. For waterfalls that I’m reasonably sure I was the first to make known to the public, I’ve chosen a name. For those that others have made public, such as those found by Rich Stevenson and Bernie Boyer, I’ve gone to them first for names and have only chosen a name if they didn’t. For other waterfalls that do not have an established name, I’ve tried to determine who first made them public and whether any name is the known name for them. In most cases, this proved futile. I was careful not to name waterfalls that likely already had names. For example, I was afraid to name most roadside waterfalls, as people have certainly known about them as long as the roads have been there. I was also careful not to assign names that might cause problems in the future. For instance, I know of several waterfalls in Chimney Rock State Park that park officials weren’t aware of until I shared the information with them. I could have named them, but I understood the park may want to choose its own names. My agenda is to lessen the confusion, not add to it. If you know of any instances where I’ve listed names for waterfalls that already have established names, please let me know, and I will correct them on my website and in the next book printing.

While there is no Waterfall Naming Police, there is an official naming organization. The United States Board on Geographic Names is responsible for determining the official place names for landmarks in the United States. It determines the names for use on USGS topo maps and other official government publications. I follow its naming structure. For nerds like me, its guidelines are fascinating stuff. One bit of trivia is that official government place names never use apostrophes. Look at the Rosman quad. You’ll see a Catheys Creek and Catheys Falls, even though both names are possessive—they were named after George Cathey, not George Catheys. I also follow this naming standard. The National Forest Service is not so fastidious, however, so if you use maps it has produced, you may see some apostrophes.

Hemlock Horror

Of all the negative changes regarding North Carolina waterfalls since the last edition of this book, the loss of the hemlock tree is by far the most disheartening. If you want to see a grown man cry, come with me on a hike to any number of waterfalls that once had huge, old-growth hemlocks standing sentinel beside them.

In 2002, a Great Smoky Mountains National Park trail worker noticed a white cottony substance on the underside of a hemlock branch. This was the first documented sighting of the hemlock woolly adelgid (HWA) in the Smokies. First discovered in the East in the 1950s near Richmond, Virginia, the HWA spread and in the late 1980s began attacking hemlocks in Shenandoah National Park. Today, nearly every hemlock in the park is dead, as are most hemlocks across Virginia and North Carolina.

In the Smokies and elsewhere, researchers began combating the HWA, using a variety of measures such as sprayed foliar treatments, systemic insecticides, and released predator beetles. These efforts continue across the southern Appalachians, but it is too late for most of the trees. No one anticipated just how quickly the HWA would spread.

The loss is incalculable from both an aesthetic and an ecological standpoint. Eastern hemlocks are among the most common, oldest, and largest trees in western North Carolina. Hemlocks were not valued as timber trees, so early loggers left many standing. Giant hemlocks could be found even in second- and third-growth forests. In addition, hundreds of acres of old-growth hemlock forests occur in western North Carolina.

Hemlocks serve an essential role in the ecosystem. With their large evergreen canopies, they shade the forest floor, creating a microclimate that allows certain organisms to thrive. Streams that are shaded by hemlocks have lower water temperatures, which is vital to trout and some invertebrate species. Hemlocks are also important for migrating birds. Some species of warblers nest almost exclusively in hemlocks. Researchers are studying these and other issues in an effort to understand the implications of the loss of the trees.

When the chestnut blight wiped out American chestnut trees, oaks and hickories assumed a dominant role in the forest. While they could not fully replace the chestnuts’ role, they were able to mitigate it. Acorns and hickory nuts, rather than chestnuts, became the primary food for bears and some other animals. With hemlocks, it’s a different situation. No other trees can fill their ecological niche. Scientists don’t know exactly what is going to happen, but what is certain is that the forest ecosystem of the southern Appalachians is going to change.

For waterfallers, the loss of hemlocks has other ramifications. The ones growing on steep banks beside waterfalls were usually left uncut, as it would be too difficult to remove the logs, which weren’t prized anyway. As a result, many waterfalls had impressive hemlocks all around them, which added immensely to the aesthetic appeal and helped photographers make better photos.

I used the past tense in the last paragraph because today every hemlock I have seen at waterfalls in North Carolina is dead or soon will be. Many have already fallen. When they do, they often land on the waterfall or in the pool. Although dead hemlocks decompose faster than many other trees, some of them are huge and will remain on the falls for decades. Of course, the trees are falling all over the place, not just at waterfalls. You’ll have to climb over or around them on many of your waterfall hikes.

While photographing for this book, I was fortunate to visit many of the waterfalls when I did. Many were already covered in fallen hemlocks, but I hit most of them before the worst of the problem. You might not be as lucky. As I write this in late 2015, I suspect that all of the hemlocks will have fallen in two or three years.

Will somebody please pass me a Kleenex?

Photographing Waterfalls

I see lots of waterfall photos. The good ones share similar traits, regardless of the photographer or the particular waterfall. The following list will get you started on the right track for creating images that have these traits. If you follow these basic rules for photographing waterfalls, I promise your images will improve.

Of course, there’s no such thing as a rigid rule for anything in photography, hence the quotes. Try out these ideas, but don’t hesitate to ignore any that don’t work for you. Note that these tips are for photographing waterfalls in the daytime. Shooting at night is completely different. I invite you to visit my website for more information about day and night waterfall photography.

Use a Sun Screen. Nothing ruins a waterfall photo quicker than having too much contrast. If you’re shooting a waterfall that’s in the open and receiving even illumination, you can make it work on a sunny day. But most waterfalls are tucked in the forest, where sunlight causes harsh shadows and highlights. The solution is simply to shoot on an overcast day. The next best option is to shoot early or late in the day, when the sun is low and blocked by trees or mountains.

A Polarizing Personality. I’ve seen some waterfall photography guides that suggest considering polarizing filters. I’ll be blunt. Get a polarizing filter and use the dang thing. Don’t consider it, do it. It will improve your waterfall photos dramatically. A polarizing filter removes glare from rocks, leaves, and water and saturates the lighting on the foliage. In some scenes, it can make the difference between a great photo and one you don’t want to show anybody.

A polarizing filter has a rotating ring. You screw it onto the lens and rotate the filter to the desired intensity. Typically, you’ll want maximum polarization. But in some cases, such as when you want to retain reflections in the water, you should choose a lesser degree.

Hold It Right There. Nobody likes lugging a tripod, but you have to do it if you want sharp, precisely composed photos. You might think you can hand-hold a shot and get it just as sharp as with a tripod. You might make an acceptably sharp photo this way if there’s plenty of light. But if you compare a hand-held shot to one on a tripod, the tripod shot always wins, even at fast shutter speeds. Besides, with most waterfall photos, you’re not shooting at fast shutter speeds. No one can hand-hold the camera and get sharp photos at the slow shutter speeds often needed for waterfalls.

Tripods offer another advantage. They force you to slow down and give you the opportunity to scrutinize the composition. You can run your eyes all the way around the frame, making sure no distracting elements are jutting in. In changing light, you can set up the camera and wait for just the right moment before clicking the shutter, so you don’t miss the shot. When it’s raining, you can hold an umbrella over the camera as you’re shooting. Try doing that with a hand-held shot!

Keep It Simple, Stupendously. The K.I.S.S. rule is a good one for any type of photography. While composition is subjective, the most effective photos are often the simplest. Identify your subject—what made you stop and want to take a picture, the features in the scene you like. Now, photograph that and that only. If you include anything else, it needs to enhance the subject or else it likely will be a distraction. If you shoot a waterfall along with its surrounding trees, the trout jumping out of the pool, the black bear trying to catch the trout, the hawk soaring overhead, the family having a picnic on the rock beside the falls, the kids splashing in the pool, and the salamander lying on the rock at the edge, well, you’re going to have a distracting photo.

Get out in the Rain. If there’s such a thing as a magic formula for making the best waterfall photos, shooting in the rain is it. An overcast day removes the harsh contrast, but a rainy or foggy day offers a far greater benefit. Those gazillion water droplets act as tiny diffusers and reflectors, filling in all the shadows and providing beautiful, soft lighting. It’s true that even lighting isn’t always a good thing in photography, but for waterfalls, it’s hard to beat the soft light of a rainy day.

Rain offers other benefits besides lighting. Foliage often looks much better when wet. And water prevents the rocks from hot-spotting. In fact, I’ll often splash water on dry rocks so they don’t record as harshly in photos.

I know, hiking to and photographing waterfalls when it’s raining isn’t the most pleasant experience, and muddy trails and wet rocks raise safety issues. But when you can do it safely, I encourage you to suffer through a little unpleasantness and work with the magic of a rainy day.

Just Look at That Mess! I’ve been ridiculed by those who say that every waterfall is beautiful and should be photographed just as it is, even if covered in fallen trees. While I can see the beauty in such waterfalls, they’re not something I want to photograph. Tree trunks and branches can create serious distractions in waterfall photos. If they’re small enough to remove, I’ll spend as much time as it takes to do so. I carry a folding saw in my pack so I can cut large branches into sizes small enough to remove. I also carry string for tying back distracting branches that jut into the scene. I never cut live trees, and I don’t remove anything that has been there long enough to have moss on it. A mossy log likely has a host of critters living on it. I don’t want to disturb them.

The Four Seasons, sans Frankie Valli. The most successful photographers return to their subjects throughout the year. A waterfall can look different from one day to the next—and extremely so from one season to the next. Winter offers snow and ice. The emerging foliage in spring has a vibrancy that rivals the best autumn color. Rhododendron blooms in the summer, when the warm weather makes it possible to get in the water for shooting different vantage points. And of course, autumn has its own special traits. The idea is simply not to settle, even after you get a good shot. Return every chance you get, in all lighting conditions and seasons.

Make Sure the Spigot Is Open Just Right. Many people assume waterfalls look best with plenty of water, but that’s not true for all of them. Waterfalls that aren’t free-falling and that have lots of little ledges look best when the flow is low enough to reveal the breaks in the action. Sliding waterfalls typically do need a good flow to look their best. In low water, they can turn into little more than big, wet rocks. The key is making notes about the best times to visit so you can return in the best conditions.

Every Which Way. Many waterfalls offer few compositional options. You have to take what you can get. But whenever it’s safe and environmentally sound to do so, I recommend checking out all the possible vantage points. For any subject, there are seven potential vantage points—what I call the Seven-Point Rule of Composition. You can shoot from the front or back, from the left or right, from above or below, or from the inside out. Few waterfalls allow shooting from all seven, but you should try as many as you can. The inside-out vantage point is for those situations when you can get behind a waterfall and shoot through the water.

It’s important that you take your camera to each of these vantage points and try out the compositions. Don’t just stand in front of the falls and try to guess what a photo from the side would look like. Go to the side and see. Trust me, you’ll miss good shots if you don’t.

It’s even more important that you pay attention to the environment around waterfalls and to your own safety. Rarely is it safe to get close to the top of a waterfall, for instance. And often, it’s impossible to climb around the banks without seriously disturbing the soil and vegetation. No shot is worth that.

Big, Bad Photoshop. Some of you won’t like this one. You need to learn the basics of post-processing. Ideally, you’ll shoot in RAW format, so you’ll have the most file information to work with. With JPEG, you’ll lose a lot of pixels that might be helpful in optimizing the image. Nearly all RAW captures need a certain amount of post-processing just to get them to square one. I’m not talking about such things as super-saturating the colors or adding clouds to the sky. Image sharpening, contrast adjustments, color correction, and image cleanup for noise, dust spots, vignetting, and the like are just basic, simple adjustments you need to apply to all photos to make them look their best. After that, you can decide for yourself if you want to push the saturation slider to 100.

You might think that because you shoot in JPEG, you don’t need to know any of this stuff. It’s true that with JPEG the camera does all the processing for you. But the problem with that approach is that the camera does all the processing for you. I don’t want to turn over creative control to the computer in my camera. Why go to all the trouble of following these guidelines if you’re going to let the camera decide how your photos should look? Might as well stick to shooting hand-held snapshots and be done with it.

With that said, I know waterfallers who aren’t serious photographers but who enjoy taking photos. They don’t print or sell their photos and have no desire to do any post-processing to them. For them, JPEG is the best way to go. But if your goal is to make the best possible waterfall photos, you need to shoot RAW, and you need to learn basic image processing. You don’t have to have Photoshop. Lightroom is terrific, and pretty much any software that offers basic photo controls will work fine.

I know this is a sore subject for those who think people like me put too much emphasis on post-processing and not enough on enjoying the moment and getting the shot right in the camera. Well, I do enjoy the moment, and I do get the shot as right as possible at the time of capture. I just know that my job as a photographer is not over once I click the shutter.

Sir, Step Away from the Waterfall. Wouldn’t it be great if shooting conditions are perfect every time you go out to photograph? I keep extensive notes to help me plan the best waterfalls to shoot at the best times, but luck invariably plays a big role in my success. Often, I’ll get to a waterfall and know immediately there’s no way to make a decent photo. Beginning photographers have a hard time grasping this. They assume a good photographer can always make a good photo. But one of the traits of the best photographers is that they know when to walk away.

When you’ve exhausted all the options and still can’t make it work, don’t let it get you down. Not all waterfalls are photogenic. Some will be totally covered in downfall. A drought might leave you with nothing but a big, wet rock. The pool might be full of frolickers. A gazillion things can ruin a photo. If the situation is one that could change, make notes so you’ll know when to return. If a huge tree is lying over the falls and you know it’s going to remain there, make a note reminding you not to waste time returning.

Using This Guidebook

The waterfalls in this book are presented in 42 hubs, most of them towns or prominent geographical features. Since any method of dividing the state into groups of waterfalls would result in splitting some waterfalls that are close together, be sure to examine the nearby hubs when planning a trip to a particular area.

With some exceptions, all North Carolina waterfalls known to me are included in this book. That statement begs the question of just what a waterfall is. If you use the dictionary definition—water flowing over a precipice—then there are a few trillion waterfalls in North Carolina, and that’s during a drought. Of course, no one would go to that extreme in identifying a waterfall, but the truth is there are so many variables that any attempt to identify and classify waterfalls is futile.

So how did I determine which to include? First, I included every waterfall, regardless of type or size, that has an accepted name followed by the word waterfall or falls. For instance, Nantahala River has many named rapids, but only those called waterfall or falls are included. That means Nantahala Falls is listed, even though it’s only a Class III rapid, while much larger cascades on other streams are not included because they are not named falls. The reasoning is that people are most likely to look for named waterfalls. If someone should happen to hear about Nantahala Falls, I want them to be able to look it up in this book.

I have also included any unnamed falls I feel most people would consider a waterfall. I made this determination arbitrarily, based on the waterfall’s height and the size of the stream.

Finally, if a waterfall is on a map, it’s included here no matter its size or name.

Waterfall listings follow one of two formats. Partial listings include a paragraph or two about the waterfall but don’t provide much detail or sometimes directions. A waterfall has a partial listing if it’s not accessible to the public, if it’s size or beauty is unimpressive, or if it’s listed as a waterfall in another source but really isn’t one. Full listings follow the format described below.

Name. The most accepted name is given first for each waterfall, after which any additional names are listed in parentheses. Following the style established by the United States Board on Geographic Names, I’ve spelled all waterfalls and other place names without apostrophes.

Determining whether a waterfall name is officially accepted or just bestowed by a small population segment sometimes proved futile. Whitewater boaters, for example, have names for every bump on their courses, and many of them are called falls. I have tried to avoid names that are not well known and accepted outside the paddling community, but I may have included some that shouldn’t be here and excluded others that should. For more insight, see Waterfall Names, pages 5-7.

A smiley face following the name indicates a recommended waterfall, based upon easy accessibility, beauty, or both. I have not given smiley faces to waterfalls that require long or difficult hikes even if they have high beauty ratings.

Beauty Rating. Ratings are based on a scale of 1 to 10. Beauty is subjective, and ratings reflect external conditions that might not apply to your visit. A waterfall’s beauty changes according to how you feel, how difficult it is to get there, how photogenic it is, preconceived notions, and many other factors. Some people like free-falling waterfalls best, while others prefer cascading falls. I’ve tried to be as objective as possible. Waterfalls rated from 1 to 3 aren’t worth visiting unless conditions are optimal or you happen to be close by. Those rated from 4 to 6 are worth the effort and might be quite nice in optimal conditions. Falls rated from 7 to 9 always look good and are spectacular in the right conditions. The few falls rated 10 have qualities that elevate them above all others, no matter the viewing conditions.

I’m prepared for backlash regarding the ratings. (I’ve been getting it since the first edition!) People tend to be defensive about their waterfalls, and I expect some of the ratings will step on a few toes. I don’t mean to do that. I’ve tried to be objective and to take all North Carolina waterfalls into consideration when making ratings.

I’ve been interested to note how my beauty ratings have changed since I wrote the first edition in 1994. Some of the falls that received low ratings in the first book get high marks in this one, and vice versa.

Accessibility. This field indicates if access is over a trail or if the waterfall is viewed roadside, and whether or not the waterfall is accessible to disabled persons.

River. If the name of the watercourse is unknown, I list it as a tributary of the first downstream river.

Watershed. Most waterfalls look their best in high water, and some dry up completely during droughts. The watershed designation describes the drainage area above the falls, so you can make a decision on whether or not it’s worth visiting. For instance, in a drought, you’d probably waste your time visiting a waterfall with a watershed listed as Very small.

Elevation. The approximate elevation at the top of the waterfall is given in feet. I obtained the elevations from the United States Geological Survey 7.5 Minute Series topographical maps. Note that I provide the elevations only for making general observations and comparisons. You’ll be able to place the waterfall on a topo map, but the elevation is not scientifically accurate. Also, note that the elevation is given for the top of the waterfall, while the GPS reading is for the viewing point.

Type and Height. Here, I indicate any obvious traits, such as whether the waterfall is a straight drop or a series of drops. But too many variables are in play to categorize waterfalls accurately. An even harder task is determining their height. Do you include cascades and drops above and below the main drop? In the case of steep, sliding falls, do you measure the altitude difference or the length of the run? If several main drops are separated by short distances of flatter water, do you include all the drops as a single measurement, or do you list them individually? If separate, how much space must be between them, and how flat does the water have to be? Where do you begin measuring at the top of the falls, and where do you stop measuring at the bottom?

Few waterfalls exhibit conditions that allow an objective height measurement. But that is not to say that every measurement is wrong. Many published heights are accurate but carry a qualifier. So what about the measurements in this book? If a published height appears to be accurate or is from a reliable source, I give it here without a qualifier. Otherwise, the measurements are approximations. In all cases, measurements should be used only for comparison purposes.

Landowner. For waterfalls on public lands, I list the appropriate forest or park as landowner. Those on private property are listed as such. For property within the national forest system, NF stands for national forest and RD refers to ranger district.

USGS Map. Listed here is the United States Geological Survey 7.5 Minute Series topographical map that includes the waterfall. These maps are recommended for any off-trail hiking. Anytime I use the word topo or quad, I’m referring to these maps. With few exceptions, the spellings I use for natural landmarks follow these maps.

Many trail maps have topographical lines, but most are on a much smaller scale. For example, some of the popular Trails Illustrated maps have a scale of 1:70,000. This is fine for providing a general idea of the topography but not for off-trail navigating. You need the 7.5 Minute maps, which have a scale of 1:24,000.

For national-forest lands, the best topo maps are those that carry the designation Modified for USDA Forest Service Use. These maps show national-forest boundary lines, Forest Service roads, and many other features not on standard maps. And they are typically more up to date. However, they are still outdated, as most were produced in the late 1980s. The Forest Service has discontinued these maps, so once current stock is sold, that will be it. Serious waterfallers will do well to stock up while they are still available.

Note that in this edition I don’t list the corresponding coordinates from the Atlas & Gazetteer book series published by DeLorme Mapping Company. Most everyone these days seems to be using mapping apps on their phones. Personally, I think a detailed printed road map is a necessity, but I gave up trying to convince others long ago. At any rate, the accuracy of the Atlas & Gazetteer has diminished considerably. Not only does it list many road names incorrectly, it lists all sorts of features in places far from where they really are. Someone dropped the ball with the latest edition.

Hike Distance. All distances are one way to the waterfall. You can return from some waterfalls via an alternate route, but when backtracking you need to double the distance given to obtain the total distance for the hike. I measured trail distances using a calibrated rolling wheel or by counting paces. For bushwhacks or creek walks, I estimated the distances or used mapping software to obtain an estimate.

Hike Difficulty. Difficulty ratings are based on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a smooth, flat trail and 10 being a tortuous route. These ratings are subjective. What is easy to you might be agony to me. I based trail ratings on an adult in good physical condition, so you should factor in your age and fitness. The ratings do not consider trail length. If a trail is flat, it’s rated easy whether it’s a hundred feet or 10 miles. Some trails have two numbers. The first gives the rating for the majority of the trail, while the second indicates that some sections are more difficult.

Typically, any hike that requires bushwhacking or creek walking gets a rating of 10. Some hikes of this kind are not difficult, but you should be aware that anytime you leave the trail, the odds of getting hurt increase substantially. The ratings reflect this.

Photo Rating. Photo ratings follow the same 1-to-10 system as the beauty ratings, but the application is different. Strictly from an on-site visual standpoint, a waterfall’s beauty doesn’t change tremendously according to weather or seasonal conditions. Yes, a particular waterfall might look better with autumn leaves all over it, but its beauty rating remains the same. Not so with photography, where the photographic potential of a waterfall varies according to viewing conditions. That gorgeous waterfall you took multiple shots of on your last visit might not warrant even a snapshot today, all because the sun happens to be shining. The ratings reflect a waterfall’s potential. For instance, if the waterfall makes a horrible subject on a clear day (due to contrasty lighting), I tried to determine how it would look on an overcast day (with even lighting) and rated it according to that.

Of course, photo ratings are subjective. I like to photograph certain types of falls better than others, and I look for certain elements when choosing the best waterfalls for photography.

Compass. By using the compass angle and a chart of the sun’s position throughout the year, you can see exactly where the sun will be relative to the waterfall. You’ll know whether it rises behind the falls, in front of it, or to the side. This information, used in conjunction with the canopy description and sometimes the general text information, will let you know the best time of day to photograph the waterfall.

You can obtain charts showing the position of the sun and moon from a number of websites and smartphone apps.

Canopy. Use the canopy listing with the compass angle to determine the best time of day to photograph. Waterfalls with a closed canopy have full foliage cover in the summer and can sometimes be photographed at midday regardless of the sun’s position. The canopy blocks most of the sun and helps alleviate contrast problems. That’s not always the case, though. If the sun is high in the sky and shining through a little hole in the canopy, you’ll still have problems. Waterfalls with partial’ canopies present contrast problems unless the sun is low and to the side. The same is true of most waterfalls with open" canopies, except that they often photograph acceptably when the sun is shining directly on them, providing even illumination.

Waterfall GPS. The GPS coordinates for the principal waterfall viewpoint are given in decimal format. If your device is set to use a different format, you’ll need to change it or convert the coordinates. GPS convertors are widely available on the Internet.

I have a love-hate relationship with people using GPS coordinates to find waterfalls. For those who know how to use them, they can be extremely helpful. But for others, they can lead to trouble. Just having coordinates for a waterfall is useless if you don’t know how to get there. You can’t just strike out through the woods in a beeline to the waterfall. In some cases, you have to follow trail directions. In situations where there is no trail, you have to know how to read a topo map and follow the lay of the land. In nearly every case, the route you take will be a meandering one. The worst thing you can do is enter coordinates into a GPS unit and start blithely heading in that direction. That ranks up there with not worrying about getting lost because you carry a cell phone.

Note that the GPS coordinates are for the main viewing point, not the location of the waterfall itself. Sometimes, these points can be far apart.

Trailhead GPS. In my perfect world, everyone would read the Directions to Trailhead section below, pull out a good printed map, and navigate their way to the trailhead using these. They would then have a much greater sense of the area they’re visiting. They’d know how the trailhead lies in relation to other roads and geographic features. Such knowledge might allow them to incorporate other sights into their visit, since they could clearly see them on the printed map. They might even decide to take a different route or perhaps return by a different one, since they could see the options at a glance. And having this sense of place would allow them to better retain knowledge of their journey and make it more rewarding.

But since I don’t live in this perfect world, I’ve provided GPS coordinates for the trailheads. Go ahead and plug them into your smart phone or on-board navigation system and let it tell you how to get there. Just keep in mind that many Forest Service roads are not shown on mapping apps.

Directions to Trailhead. I provide driving directions to the trailheads and in some cases directly to roadside waterfalls. Keep in mind that my mileages may vary from your readings due to differences in our odometers. To be on the safe side, assume a margin of error.

I use the following abbreviations for roads:

I—Interstate route

US—national highway route

NC—major state route

SR—secondary state route

FR—Forest Service route (note that some Forest Service signs and maps use FS to designate these routes)

Hike Description. This section gives a detailed description of the hike to the waterfall. Please understand that trail conditions constantly change. Some trails receive regular maintenance, while others do not. The easy stroll I made to a waterfall might be a nightmare for you because trees have fallen across the trail.

While I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible, I’ve no doubt made mistakes. If you run across errors, please let me know so I can correct them on the updates page of my website. But before you contact me, make sure you’ve followed the directions to the letter, without skipping ahead. By far the biggest reason people can’t find a waterfall is because they didn’t follow the hike description.

Overview. In this general-comments section, I provide pertinent information about the waterfall. Sometimes, I elaborate on information listed in the other fields.

Glossary

Big, wet rock—An itsy-bitsy stream flowing over a big rock makes it wet. Some big, wet rocks have waterfall names, but they look good only during a flood.

bonehead—A waterfall visitor who needs to be hit over the head with a heavy object. Usually refers to a litterbug, vandal, graffiti artist, or vegetation destroyer. I wanted to use a different term to reference such people, but I thought that since young people may read this book, it would not be appropriate.

bushwhack—Noun: A hike in which you must leave a trail or road and walk through the woods. Verb: To participate in such a hike.

buttwhack—Noun: A section of a hike in which the only portion of your body that touches the ground is your butt. Verb: To hike on your butt.

clutter—Fallen trees and branches, piles of leaves, or any other natural elements that create unsightly distractions for photographers.

creek walk—When the trail is the creek.

deadfall—Fallen trees or branches on trails or waterfalls.

downfall—See deadfall.

lost—A situation you don’t want to find yourself in. To avoid it, please read the trail descriptions carefully and assess your abilities honestly.

quad—A USGS topographical map.

rhodos—Short for rhododendrons, usually referring to rosebay rhododendrons, the bane of off-trail hikers. That is, until they need something to grab hold of to keep from falling off the mountain.

river left—The left side of a river as you look downstream.

river right—The right side of a river as you look downstream.

rockhop—Noun: A creek crossing that requires you to hop from rock to rock if you don’t want to get your feet wet. Verb: To cross a creek in this manner.

saddle—A generally broad, flat area on a ridge between two higher elevations.

scramble—Noun: