A Waterfall Road Trip Reveals the Hidden Side of Hood Canal
The classic: Rocky Brook Falls near the Dosewallips River in the Olympics.
Image: Mac Holt
Fear not, readers, I'm not going to do it. Not going to title this cascade quest anything along the "Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls" vein, lest we all spend the next day with a TLC song stuck in our heads. Besides, waterfalls are beautiful and well worth pursuing—right? A leisurely day trip along Hood Canal had me pondering the appeal of one of nature's marvels.
Waterfalls have long been a signature of the Olympic Peninsula, an often drippy corner of the state. With annual precipitation reaching as high as 170 inches a year on its west side, there's plenty of water to run downhill; the peninsula's tourism commission even made a map of more than two dozen. The north end has the classic Sol Duc and Marymere; to the west, Lake Quinault has the trailhead for Enchanted Valley, also known as the Valley of a Thousand Falls (allegedly).
But to explore the less heralded east side of the peninsula—and conveniently closest to Seattle—I consulted the book Where Waterfalls and Wild Things Are by Mark Woytowich. The columnist for the Shelton-Mason County Journal claimed the stretch of Highway 101 as it traces Hood Canal would lead to worthy sights. I picked three to combine into a daylong road trip, traveling north from Hoodsport to Quilcene, detouring east three times.
Looking down at the top of Hamma Hamma Falls, questioning the safety of being here.
Image: Allison Williams
Hamma Hamma Falls
There's a certain appeal to an attraction that sits just off the road, and in this case, the road itself, North Hamma Hamma Road, combines the best parts of a mountain byway: good scenery and not too many potholes. The road ends at a trailhead about 13 miles inland from the highway, at a bridge that spans the Hamma Hamma River.
The roaring falls below the bridge feel frustratingly just out of reach. Yeah, you don't have to hike to the attraction here—but you can't really see the falls from anywhere either. Instead, the view from the bridge is down to the chasm below, where water carves a series of steps downhill. Makeshift trails make their way closer to the action, but the sloped hard-pack dirt over abrupt cliffs (with absolutely no handrails or barriers) recall the classic "Dumb Ways to Die" meme.
The drive is a pleasant peek into the interior Olympics, with jagged rock just starting to emerge over the evergreen forest, but the main drop of falls is only ever visible from the top. Solo, I decide not to risk the off-trail hike that Woytowich recommends for the full "truly astounding" view. Hamma Hamma Falls merely whets the appetite.
Murhut Falls hides deep in the Duckabush River area.
Image: Allison Williams
Murhut Falls
A good hike can make a natural sight feel earned, like the vista from a mountaintop. The one-mile trail into a creek that feeds into the Duckabush River earns a few hundred feet of elevation, mostly making a giant curve through second-growth Douglas fir.
At the end of the trail, Murhut Falls gives classic waterfall vibes: two near-vertical drops into round pools. A steep, eroding trail (more a ladder of tree roots, really) leads to the water's edge. Here, the sheer power of water is on display with felled trees criss-crossing the falls in haphazard fashion. Waterfalls may boast a placid, pretty reputation, but in person they tell a different story, one of insistence and even destruction. At about 125 feet, Murhut shows how these features shape the whole landscape around them.
Rocky Brook Falls
Someone tell Goldilocks where to find the falls that's just right. Like the other two waterfalls, Rocky Brook is located up a road that heads uphill from Hood Canal, this one in the Dosewallips Recreation Area. Like Murhut, it requires a bit of a hike, but this time only about 200 yards or so.
Rocky Brook Falls spreads into a triangle, its water slipping down a craggy rock face. At more than 150 feet tall, it can be hard to take in the whole thing at once. But there's a reason these Rocky Brook Falls earned Woytowich's "top five waterfalls on the Olympic Peninsula" label. On warmer days the pool at its base would be ideal for a swim, but even on the rain shadow side of the Olympics, moody drizzle is more common than scorching sunshine.
Visitors bring lunches to Rocky Brook, and couples bring whole wedding parties to its base for photos. The ever-moving backdrop looks fundamentally different in person than it does in photos or even videos; more impressive, more primeval. While parts of Washington are beloved for their sweeping views, here the attraction is cupped on all sides by thick forest, less dependent on good weather.
Like so much of nature, waterfalls can feel twee in concept. But up close, they're memorable. Not only can they not be replicated elsewhere, they're not even the same from moment to moment.
