Waterfall Chasing: Amicalola Falls

Field Notes III.XI: A waterfall and a failure

Welcome to Field Notes!

Time’s current flows swiftly. March has arrived, and with it signs of the turning season. Here in the lower elevations buds are ripening, giving the trees a reddish aura. The understory shows signs of greening. Temperatures still swing wildly, but rapid change is in motion.

These signs of spring stir a restlessness within me. It has been too long since I’ve ventured afield. Too long since I have adventured. It is the feeling of skin too tight for the body it encases. Of needing to break through and move beyond. Is this how snakes feel as they leave their old papery wrappings behind and venture into the world renewed? Or the bears as they crawl from their caves of slumber?

It is March 1, a Saturday, and I have a car to drive. An old, bright red Toyota. It once belonged to my mother, who gave it to my daughter. With my daughter out of town, this trusty little car takes me waterfall chasing for the day.

Amicalola Falls. Its name is derived from the language of the Cherokee people who once occupied this land. Ama uqwalelvyi. It very aptly means ‘tumbling waters.’ At 729ft high, this waterfall is the highest in Georgia and is listed among the 7 natural wonders of the state. I drive there today to visit the falls and to photograph those iconic tumbling waters.

I leave a bit later than I had hoped. The lengthening days have pushed sunrise earlier, which gives me some concern. Bright sunlight on white tumbling water is often too bright for a photo. The camera cannot adjust for both the brightness of the water and the surrounding shadows. Those conditions are difficult to work around.

The drive north is smooth and uneventful. It is still early as I arrive at the entrance to the state park. I ease my way to the parking lot at the bottom of the falls and step out into mountain air still holding on to winter’s chill.

Circumstances are in my favor this morning. Despite it being such a towering waterfall, Amicalola is not yet in direct light. The rising sun has not crested the surrounding mountains and its rays are just now beginning to brush the highest tree tops. I still have time.

The land that Amicalola Falls inhabits was acquired by the State of Georgia in 1911 because the then owner found the terrain too rugged to settle. It was not made a State Park, though, until the year 1958. This was when the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail was moved to Springer Mountain. Hikers were in need of an access point reasonably close to a highway, and so Amicalola Falls State Park was established, with an 8.5 mile access trail leading from there to the top of Springer.

At the parking lot at the base of the falls there is a man made reflection pool. From there, a paved walkway follows the stream up the slope of the mountain towards the falls. Signs along the way admonish visitors to ‘Stay on the Path.’

Thoughts of the Appalachian Trail occupy my mind as I head up.

Bends in the ascending walkway give viewers different perspectives of the nearing waterfall. Ama uqwalelvyi- tumbling waters. They roar louder and louder the further I climb. Walking is easy, but the elevation gain is steep. The effort banishes any evidence of cold on my body.

At its highest point the path transforms into a series of stairs and a walkway across the river. The line of sunlight is descending lower and lower on the trees above. Soon it will reach the top of the falls.

The number of other visitors is also steadily growing. I set my tripod and wait for them to pass before pressing the shutter release. I move to the side as a group behind me gingerly steps by on the stairs.

Amicalola Falls is a stunning sight, but my short time here is already nearing its end.

On my way back down I pause at one of the lower turns in the path for a last look. The top of Amicalola is ablaze in the sun’s direct light.

A group of 4 young friends arrives and one of the girls takes a photo with a very nice camera. But she pouts in frustration and I overhear her say “the water is blurry for some reason.”

I offer to help. The girl is grateful, explaining that it is a new camera she received for Christmas. I give a suggestion or two, but she does not yet know the functions of the camera. She then hands it to me and asks if I can show her.

This is where I stumble. I have never used a Canon, and hers’ is much more advanced than my own camera. I feel myself getting flustered and try to talk through it by describing the exposure triangle and other technicalities. Ultimately, I don’t know if I was able to help her at all. I may have left her even more confused.

She smiles and thanks me sincerely as her group moves on. I head back to the car with the persistent feeling that I must learn to do better.

I have an ulterior motive for visiting Amicalola Falls on this March 1. This weekend is AT Gateways, an annual event kicking off the start of the season for thru hiking the Appalachian Trail. The limited information I find online indicates there will be vendors, entertainment, and a list of speakers on various topics related to thru hiking.

For a while now, I have considered the possibility of offering my photography as a service rather than an artistic product. Portraits would be the way to do this, or perhaps action photos of people performing their chosen pursuits. To mesh this with my interests, I thought of offering portraits to backpackers and thru hikers.

I envision AT Gateways as a place to meet and greet some very interesting characters with shared interests. A place to learn. A place where I might meet people interested in what I create. I hope that it will lead to some exciting future possibilities.

At the park gate I am told that the event is held at the Amicalola Lodge this year. Amicalola State Park was privatized back in 2012. It is now operated by a hotel and resort management company.

I remember the park before it was privatized and see the difference now. The park’s official website is now that of the lodge, which presents itself as a resort destination. The area has a pronounced touristy feel, demonstrated in its canned ‘adventure activities’ like axe throwing, archery, and a zip line.

I drive beyond the top of the falls to the lodge situated on the highest peak in the park. The parking lot is overflowing. Large trucks and off road outfitted SUVs are parked on every slanted space between the filled rows of parking spots. If I don’t park here I will have to find a spot at lower elevation and hike all the way back up. I circle the lot 4 times. There is a tiny spot of open grass on the shoulder, and I am driving a tiny car. The uneven ground here is worrisome, but I ease the little red Toyota off the pavement and park.

Walking into the main lobby of the lodge, I come to a large display table with a woman sitting at it. She smiles and says hello, but no further. Behind her are lobby chairs in a common area before a large window overlooking the mountains beyond. A few people linger, but nothing indicates an AT Gateways event.

I become aware of the din of a crowd of people coming from an open door to my left. It sounds like a lot of people. The door leads to a short stairway going down. This must be it.

The stairway puts me out at a lower level. The small space here is packed. The lodge is not a convention center. This is not a conference room. Tables of vendors line the walls of a moderate sized common room and narrow hallway leading from it. Other smaller rooms adjoin, and they are all filled with tables and racks of gear for sale.

People crowd this space. They are all such interesting looking characters. Young and old. Long beards and weathered skin. They seem like the kind of people I have been wanting to meet… but they all seem to already know one another. Clusters and clumps of bodies stand immersed in ongoing conversations.

Carefully, I maneuver through the crowd. “Hey, I know you!” comes a call from nearby. But it is directed to the man next to me. The two begin to recall times past when they met in some remote wilderness. I begin to sweat.

Clearly I will not be able to photograph anyone here. So, I try to look at the vendors’ tables. I try to look casual. I’m not here to buy anything, though, so even when I make it to a table I hesitate to speak.

The volume of voices starts to overwhelm me. I look around for a space to hang out for a minute and figure out what is going on, but I don’t see any such refuge. Where would the speakers be presenting their topics? There doesn't appear to be a space set up for that. I don’t see any signs to guide me.

Crowds are not for me. Maybe if I knew anyone here. Maybe if I had a more defined purpose for being here. I can do many things, but walking into a crowd like this to socialize and meet people is not one of them. Today introversion defeats me. I sigh, ease my way towards the door, and slowly walk back up the stairs towards my little red Toyota outside.

What do you think of Amicalola? It really is a stunning waterfall and I believe my photos of it were helped by the shade and that the trees had not yet leafed up.

For all the discomfort I felt at AT Gateways, it still seems like a great event. The failure there is entirely my own. I guess I had envisioned an outdoor event with room to move around. I would do better in those circumstances. If I can, I will try again next year. Maybe I’ll have to drag someone I know along with me. Is it just me, or do any of you introverts out there have similar difficulty?

• Do you like waterfall photos? Check out more of my Waterfall Chasing

• These past issues of Field Notes also highlight the State of Georgia

Some news-

I’m going on another thru hike! On March 30 I will be stepping off on the Bartram Trail, going 112 miles through North Georgia and ending on Cheoah Bald, North Carolina. I cannot wait!

I’m still debating if and how I will send out updates from the trail. I don’t want to overload your emails with daily posts from my phone. I may steal the idea from

Anne Thomas

and do some daily updates in Substack Notes and later compile them into a post.

Whatever I end up doing, I will be photographing the journey and will take some time to write up an adventure story series about it.

If you are interested, you can support this effort. Donations go towards provisions and re-supply, fuel, emergencies, etc. You can leave me some Trail Magic here-

https://www.paypal.com/ncp/payment/H2YDNBQZSJP6A

If you do, please message me so I know who it is and I’ll give you a shout out!

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