Waterfall Chasing: Opossum Creek Falls

Field Notes III.XXII: Photographing and backpacking Opossum Creek Falls, SC

Welcome to Field Notes!

The Chattooga River cuts a contorted line through the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. It forms the border between the states of Georgia to the west and South Carolina to the east. A buffer of wilderness has been established along the Chattooga, giving it the designation ‘Wild and Scenic.’

While the Chattooga is cherished for its rapids, many of the true gems are waterfalls formed by the creeks, streams, and branches that flow into this river from either side of it. The Chattooga is an old river and has cut deep into the landscape. As a result, these creeks cascade dramatically into the river valley in their quest to reach its level.

I have seen and photographed many of these waterfalls. Finding them is always an adventure. But what happens when one of these adventures does not go smoothly or according to plan? Is there something to be learned from such an experience?

It was early May when my wife gave me some calamitous news. She leads a youth group that meets once a week. On Saturday the 24th of May she would have their final get together… at our house!

I maintain a respectable level of flexibility and preparedness for worst case scenarios like this. Almost instantly upon hearing about it I was able to say “that’s just fine, I’ll go backpacking!” Done deal.

The problem then became finding a destination. That Saturday was Memorial Day weekend, when hoards of weekend warriors stumble into the outdoors for shenanigans. I checked some spots in the Smokies. Even the backcountry sites were booked. Then, I thought of Opossum Creek Falls.

Opossum Creek runs into the very bottom portion of the Chattooga in the Sumter National Forest on the South Carolina side. It’s actually very close to Long Creek Falls, which I visited in February ‘24.

I was certain there would be some people there that weekend. But, it is a lesser know destination and there is not an official campground there. It is more or less off-the-grid. Maybe there wouldn’t be many people there. Maybe those that were wouldn’t be staying overnight.

I don’t have epically long trails under my belt, but at this point I have backpacked extensively and have most of my gear dialed in. The only real variables for a trip are how long it will be and how cold it will get. Just one night at Opossum Creek Falls at the end of May would be easy. I didn’t do any gear prep in the weeks leading up. It would only take a few minutes to throw my gear together and go.

Was it that touch of hubris that caused the Fates to start throwing curve balls at me? It must be. A couple of days before leaving I learned more news from my wife. The youth group meeting that was the catalyst for this weekend trip was cancelled due to an unexpected funeral. Very generously, she still said it was fine for me to go. I probably should have changed the date away from this holiday weekend. I could just as easily have gone the following Wednesday. I was mentally set on it, though, and kept course.

Then came the second twist. It started as a little tickle in the back of the throat that let me know it was coming. I ate oranges, drank electrolytes, took tablespoons of honey at night. But, the sinus congestion still set in.

Worse than the congestion was… the sore throat. It was the kind that has you not wanting to speak or swallow at all. The kind that wakes you incessantly through the night. And when you inevitably have to cough, the throat pain erupts from your ears and makes your skull strain at its seams.

Life is a complex system. It is impossible to know all of its variables or understand its infinite volatility. How can we prepare for those conditions? By doing hard things in less than ideal circumstances. So yeah, I was still going backpacking. After all, these waterfalls aren’t going to photograph themselves!

I leave just after lunch in the early afternoon. As I expected, it only takes me a few minutes to pack. The drive there is short, less than 2 hours, with surprisingly light traffic for Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. The GPS leads me along mostly small country roads. I cruise past small farms with children playing outside, rolling hills, and tiny towns, quiet and crumbling, with forgotten names.

The pavement ends as I close within the last few miles. Some skillful maneuvering around potholes is all it takes and the little red Toyota has no trouble handling it. There is no traffic whatsoever on this dirt road and I begin to think the crowds may have overlooked this area after all.

Then, I reach the parking area for the Opossum Creek Falls trailhead. It is full, with at least 12 other vehicles parked there. One benefit of driving the little Toyota is that I am able to squeeze it into the last available space before the wildly growing shrubbery.

The month of May has been rainy and the skies today remain overcast. Though it’s now mid afternoon, the temperature is cool as I begin the walk down an easy downhill grade toward the Chattooga.

My throat remains raw. I worried that breathing heavily on the hike would exacerbate it, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. I think the humidity in the air is helping.

The surrounding forest is verdant, but slightly past peak wildflower season. Mountain laurel still blooms, though many of the delicate flowers have wilted. Vivid purple rhododendron flowers stand out amongst the green, but they are rare gems.

With all of the recent rainfall, the greenery in these woods is an embodiment of lushness. Carpets of ferns cover the forest floor. Fraser magnolia whorl like umbrellas overhead as streams tinkle through the understory thickets. Movement temporarily clears my congestion and I am able to absorb the pervasive aroma of fresh earth.

I have a new cell phone with me. Its camera is impressive compared to the camera on my previous one. I experiment with it as a backup to my main camera, learning its features and functions along the way.

iPhone 16

As fun as this cell phone camera is, it is still limited by its tiny sensor within the phone. I take some photos with my DSLR as a comparison. This camera is a nearly 10 year old model, but the difference is still apparent.

Pentax K70

I pass a family of day hikers on their way back. Then another couple. Then a small group. While I found a full parking lot and am getting here in the afternoon, many of these people are now leaving. I guess that I pass about half of the owners of those cars as I get close to the Chattooga.

Then I reach the river and am quickly disillusioned. Here the Chattooga makes a broad bend with a wide, calm section in the curve and rocky shoal both up and downstream. A small area of sandy beach and flood plain spread from the edge of the forest on this outer section of the curve. There are groups of tents and hammocks set up here in immediate view. I hoped to swim in the Chattooga to wash the sickness from my body, but a group of 8 or 10 college age guys are standing around the shore. Someone has built a campfire on the beach.

Of concern is the type of gear I notice left at the campsites. The tents are the cheapest discount store brands. Their backpacks are Jansport bookbags. They have coolers with them. I don’t want to imply that anyone is inferior due to inexpensive gear. However, this collection of items does suggest that these are not serious outdoor enthusiasts with respect for fellow backpackers and adherence to leave no trace principles.

This is a problem for later. Now, I follow the trail away from the Chattooga, upstream along Opossum Creek towards the waterfall. Along this path I pass a hiker coming back down. He lets me know it is beautiful and that I should now have the falls all to myself. I continue on, looking for any possibility to set up my camp along here, rather than at the Chattooga. This creek is in a steep ravine, though, and its sides are bound in rhododendron.

The trail to get to the falls isn’t long. Opossum Creek plays noisily through a long series of huge moss covered boulders, with a few large splayed ferns growing amongst them. The waterfall up above is a huge sliding cascade down a sloping rock with another distant waterfall above that.

I drop my pack and take my time scouting around the rocks, looking for interesting perspectives and compositions.

The diffuse late afternoon sunlight has warmth to it, although it is dim from the canopy and cloud cover above. It would be good lighting for long exposures of the water, except that the movement of the water in the falls is creating a constant slight breeze. The breeze causes all of those ferns, branches, and foliage to move and blur in my shots.

I take photos from several angles, doing the best I can with the movement of the leaves. It may not be ideal, but I don’t think the movement ruins the images.

As I’m photographing I hear some guys yelling about 25 yards downstream behind me. Are they laughing? With the roar of the falls I can’t make out what they are saying, but it sounds strange. I look back and catch a glimpse of these two dudes. They are on a wide, flat boulder near the stream and look like they are rough-housing with each other.

I ignore them for the time being and set up a shameless wilderness selfie before packing up for the return to the river.

As I am leaving I see one of those guys still on that rock, leaned on a branch with his head resting on his forearms. I’ve seen that pose often and start to have an idea of what is going on.

I soon catch up to the other guy, who is also on his way back to the Chattooga. He has a large German shepherd with him on a leash. Just as I see him he stumbles awkwardly, sits back into a stand of dogbane and continues to slowly fall and flail onto his back. His shepherd stands watching him and then looks at me with a face of pure indignity at the condition of his human.

The guy absolutely reeks of alcohol. “You going to make it?” I ask.

“Awyeah, I rilly just trepped this time.” He struggles to his feet and I leave him to the care of that unfortunate dog.

Back at the Chattooga I look for options to set up camp. There are four tents here and at least four hammocks, as well. I scout upstream and downstream, but in either direction the riverbanks become rocky and unlevel.

I could squeeze my tent in here, but there is nowhere left to place it that would give me any separation from the people here. It is now 6pm, but I realize that I must head home.

Bend in the Chattooga with campers on the far right

In the forest the light grows dim well before sunset. I hike at a quick pace now that I am resigned to the unexpected return trip. My throat begins to burn more, so I pause at the creek to filter and drink my fill of water.

I photograph a few more points of interest in the evening walk. Mostly, though, I just observe the settling of the evening and listen to a symphony of tree frogs beginning their nightly musicale.

Soon I am back to my car and watch the setting sun as my headlights illuminate the way home.

I suppose the lesson of this trip is that we live and we learn. While the Fates adjusted my course from that which I planned, it was still a good adventure. I got to see and photograph a spectacular waterfall while avoiding the possibility of unfamiliar juveniles invading my home. I spent some invaluable healing time in nature. And, I remembered why I avoid backpacking on the weekends.

Do not ask things to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as they do happen, and your life will go smoothly.

-Epictetus

I feel better now, in case you were wondering! Have you ever had to abandon a trip like this? I’ve come close at time or two, but this was a first. I am really happy that I finally got to see Opossum Creek Falls, though! Definitely on my list of places to return to. Hopefully next time I won’t be sick.

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