Death Hike

Our Oregon guidebook and the brochures we’d picked up while staying at the Metolius River mentioned some short hikes to waterfalls along the McKenzie River highway between Sisters and Eugene.  The most inviting of these was to Proxy Falls.

Unfortunately, none of the information we had pinpointed the location of these watery cascades.  As we drove away from the first viewpoint on Highway 242 Cindy read aloud from the guidebook: “Look for a small hiker-symbol sign on the south side of the road. This is the only marker for the trail to a spectacular pair of waterfalls, Upper and Lower Proxy Falls.”  Oops!  We’d just passed such a demarcated point and there was no nearby place along the highway where we could safely do a U-turn.  Been there, not done that.

Long after we’d crossed the McKenzie Pass and climbed up and down to path to the Dee Wright Observatory, we hit a short, straight section of the road with cars parked bumper to bumper on either shoulder.  On the north side a very large sign announced that we had finally arrived at Proxy Falls, and we made use of the adjacent picnic table and restrooms.  A large bulletin board on the south side had a trail map and other information about visiting the area.
 
Only a flashing neon sign or searchlights swinging their brilliant beams across cloud-covered heavens would have made the trailhead more obvious.  The guidebook writer had certainly not been to this spot in recent history.

The U.S. Forest Service map posted on the bulletin board indicated that the trail looped counterclockwise for 1 1/4 miles, veering to the right to the Lower Falls at the mid-point, and then heading left to the Upper Falls before circling back to the parking area.  It looked like a an easy jaunt that we’d surely be able to complete in less than an hour.  Hah!

At the outset the route took us through a jumble of lava rock fringed by trees and shrubs.  At the main fork in the trail we turned right and before long reached a viewpoint for the Lower Falls.  A couple of guys we’d seen at the start of the hike were loafing on a fallen log smoking cigarettes.  We swapped places with them and the one who spoke with a Southern drawl and had a chest of matted black hair poking out from under his denim vest took our photo with the falls in the background. He and his red-haired buddy had been there before and they encouraged us to accompany them farther down the trail to get a close-up view of the falls.  Like lambs led to the slaughter, we followed behind them.

Forty years ago, in our “salad days”, climbing and descending steep, narrow mountain trails was de rigueur for us.when visiting National Parks or other remote areas of the Western U.S.  These days we take a more “safe and sane” approach to hiking.

The trail down to the falls was one of the “falling of the cliff” types.  Hanging on to bushes and tree roots, we managed to get to the bottom without sustaining major injuries.  (Several under-six years olds did, too).  But we eschewed the chance to get closer the magnificent bridal-veil type falls; too many fallen trees and slippery creek crossings lay ahead of us.

After scrambling back up to the viewpoint for the Lower Falls, we continued along a fairly level path to the far less dramatic Upper Falls which very few visitors had bothered to check out.  One young woman sat in the shade reading a book.  A man and his two young sons passed us as we reached the falls.
The deep pool at the base of the Upper Falls had no apparent outlet.  The water rushing headlong down the mountainside must have quickly drained into the underlying rock on its way to the McKenzie River a quarter-mile or so beyond.

An hour and half after setting out, we returned to our car, sweaty and dusty.  Cindy figured out why the site is called “Proxy Falls” ---- someone else is supposed to hike it in your stead while you sit at a picnic table sipping lemonade on a hot summer day.