Home to more than 200 named waterfalls, Oregon is a waterfall chaser’s paradise. The falls are often so fanciful that they look like a scene straight out of a Tolkien tale.
The most popular falls are found in the Columbia River Gorge, where 2 million people mass at Multnomah Falls and companion cascades each year. Wondrous waterfalls also are ensconced in the remote North Umpqua Canyon, where solitude is the norm and crowds are the exception.
Delightful Drive and Dancing Water
The section of the Rogue-Umpqua Scenic Byway nicknamed the Highway of Waterfalls winds along the 34-mile untamed stretch of the North Umpqua River. The nose-pressed-to-the-glass drive features myriad majestic falls and an abundance of rowdy rapids and rock-ribbed gorges gouged out of the Cascade Range in south central Oregon.
My wife Maria and I spent a week with our pup Tahoe in a riverside campground in our small motorhome. We hiked segments of the 79-mile North Umpqua Trail and scouted the waterfalls. Our sallies to the half dozen photogenic falls selected for this story ranged from easy strolls to moderate treks on well-marked and well-maintained trails that can easily be completed in a couple of days. The other waterfalls in the area are largely accessed on unpaved spurs off the main highway.
Turning off Interstate 5, our road trip along the storied North Umpqua—the local Native word for “dancing water”—began in Roseburg, Oregon. The town of not quite 25,000 was built up by the lumber industry and is now a vibrant tourism hub with covered bridges and restored mid-19th-century homes that give it a historic appeal.
From Roseburg, Route 138, also known at this juncture as the Rogue-Umpqua Scenic Byway, heads east over oak-sprinkled hillsides for about a half hour, to the forested hamlet of Glide and the Colliding Rivers viewpoint. The North Umpqua and the Little River meet head-on in a whitewater maelstrom—one of the few places in the world where this phenomenon occurs.
Sacred Steelhead Waters
Angler Mike Maurer fly fishing on the North Umpqua River. Maria Coulson
Fly fishermen the world over revere the North Umpqua River for its summer steelhead run. The prized fighting gamefish grow from eight pounds to 20 pounds, and the deep aquamarine stream offers 30 miles of fly-fishing-only water. It is a relaxing pastime to watch the anglers even if you don’t know a Worley Bugger fly from a muddler minnow fly.
Mike Maurer, who has fished the North Umpqua for a decade and ties his own flies, admitted that the steelhead are very difficult to catch.
“My brother-in-law has been coming here for nearly 20 years and hasn’t caught one,” the resident of Bend, Oregon, confided.
Susan Creek Falls
Susan Creek Falls is accessible year-round, although water flow is strongest in the winter and spring months. Maria Coulson
We continued east from Glide through the Umpqua National Forest, which features not only a collection of waterfalls but also hot springs, family-friendly hikes permitting dogs on a leash, whitewater rafting and kayaking, and small, secluded campgrounds. Within 15 minutes, we came to our first waterfall—Susan Creek Falls. Near the trailhead parking lot are the Susan Creek Falls Day Use Area and the Susan Creek Falls Campground.
The 1.6-mile out-and-back gently sloped Susan Creek Falls Trail, with interpretive flora and fauna signs, passes through a partial burn area. Wedged between volcanic rock cliffs blanketed in moss, the 50-foot fan waterfall spreads its exquisite flume in an entrancing pose for those standing below.
You can proceed on a 0.4-mile uphill path to the Susan Creek Indian Mounds. Native American boys approaching manhood would fast and build stone piles then spend the night in a spiritual vigil.
Fall Creek Falls
Fall Creek Falls also features ferns, moss-covered basalt, and a serene creek, making it an ideal destination for photographers. Maria Coulson
It is a short drive east on the Highway of Waterfalls to the four-tiered, 120-foot Fall Creek Falls. You begin the 1.8-mile round-trip trek to the falls squeezing through a tight bedrock crevice before passing by massive honeycomb-shaped basalt pillars jutting out in all directions like scattered piles of twigs.
The meandering path parallels a frolicking creek coursing through the narrow gorge in the fire-scarred old-growth forest. You step over tangled tree roots to the sandy and pebble-strewn beach at the base of the flawless falls. Its splendor resembles a silver-laced, sky-blue satin bridal train.
Toketee Falls
Toketee Falls is one of Oregon's most famous waterfalls. The name "Toketee" means "graceful" or "pretty" in the Chinook language. Maria Coulson
A roughly 50-minute highway ramble takes you to the 120-foot waterfall considered by many the most picturesque in Oregon. Toketee Falls is a thunderous tumbler and a two-tier stunner. The upper 40 feet are tucked back in the canyon, and the lower 80 feet plunge into the chasm of the basalt amphitheater to a wave-tossed pool.
Beneath a canopy of western hemlocks, bigleaf maples, and western red cedars teeming with twittering birds, you ascend the 0.4-mile Toketee Falls Trail with more than 200 stairs to a treehouse-like viewing platform built around a giant Douglas fir. We got glimpses of the North Umpqua along the way, but nothing prepared us for the symphony of sound and masterpiece of nature.
Umpqua Hot Springs
A few miles down a rough road from Toketee Falls is the marquee Umpqua Hot Springs, perched on a cliffside travertine terrace overlooking the North Umpqua River. There is a steep 0.4-mile hike to the handful of geothermal pools, among the most commended in Oregon.
The baths are of varying temperatures, like the porridge in the fairytale “Goldilocks and the Three Bears.” We played Goldilocks and tried the water in each. The top pool was too hot, and the lower ones were too cold. The pool in the middle under the wooden structure was “just right.”
Watson Falls
Watson Falls' flow comes from Watson Creek, a tributary of the North Umpqua River. It's the tallest waterfall in southwest Oregon. Maria Coulson
After Umpqua Hot Springs, we drove 15 minutes east on the Highway of Waterfalls to the third tallest cascades in Oregon. At a neck-craning height of 293 feet, the crest of Watson Falls can be seen from the parking lot through a sawtooth gap between the trees.
The moderate 0.8-mile falls loop goes along a fern-lined creek galloping down from the boiling pool at the bottom of the booming falls. A footbridge near its base provides an outstanding command of the dramatic cataract plummeting from the majestic sheer cliff cathedral.
“Watson Falls is my favorite,” Alice Kirby from Eugene, Oregon, said. “Its power and beauty are overwhelming, and you can get up close to it.”
Whitehorse Falls
In winter, Whitehorse Falls sometimes freezes partially, creating a stunning icy scene. Maria Coulson
Just seven minutes down the road from imposing Watson Falls is diminutive Whitehorse Falls. The Clearwater River flows through a rocky, narrow channel toppling 14 feet into a punchbowl.
The parking area near the entrance of the Whitehorse Falls Campground is just a few steps from a flat boardwalk leading to a viewing deck. The only ones there, we were enchanted by the tranquility of the early misty morning and the soothing sound of the flowing water.
Clearwater Falls
Unlike many waterfalls that originate from mountain runoff, Clearwater Falls is fed from underground springs, keeping its flow steady even in dry seasons. Maria Coulson
It’s a half-dozen highway miles to Clearwater Falls, which tumbles 29 feet through a jumble of mossy rocks and fallen logs. Shallow pools and miniature cascades below the falls delight children and adults alike.
The waterfall is a short saunter from the parking lot on a pathway that ends at a wooden observation platform with informative plaques. It is an inviting spot to enjoy a snack or packed lunch and admire the picture-perfect plunge. You may decide to stay overnight in the Clearwater Falls Campground.
This is the last stop on our Highway of Waterfalls adventure. Oregon Route 138 heads south for 10 miles to Diamond Lake, with resort amenities and year-round recreation, then it curves east for eight miles to the north entrance of Crater Lake National Park.
David Coulson is a freelance writer, former journalist, and journalism professor of graduate studies with a doctorate from the University of Minnesota.
