Waterfall Chasing: Tabor Falls

Field Notes III.XIII: Exploring and photographing Tabor Falls in the Lake Russell WMA in North Georgia

Welcome to Field Notes!

I seek an element of uncertainty in exploration. You see, it is the uncertainty of the thing that defines it as an adventure, not necessarily the scope of it. There is a thrill in chasing the unknown, when outcomes are not guaranteed. Without that element, we are merely sight seeing.

With the realization that I have a day off, I have the inspiration to seek such an adventure. The weather prediction calls for rain, but it should be clearing by the morning. Daylight savings time has just arrived, pushing sunrise an hour later in the day. These are some good conditions to chase a waterfall!

Where to go? I search for something reasonably close because I still have to be back before evening. I scout online sources and hone in on the Lake Russell Wildlife Management Area near the town of Cornelia in North Georgia. This is technically a part of the Chattahoochee National Forest, though it is a lesser used island south of the rest of it.

Numerous waterfalls exist in this region of foothills. I’ve explored Nancytown Falls in the past, but now I have learned of one named Tabor Falls. Tabor is a moderate sized waterfall at 50ft of sheer drop. A short established trail exists to get there, but my source indicates that it is unofficial and unmarked. Then, a note informs me that a logging road has obscured part of this trail in late 2023, leaving the path choked with downed timber as some sort of erosion control effort.

There’s more. It seems that just a couple of weeks ago the area around Tabor Falls was subjected to a controlled burn. That’s familiar. A year ago I explored Long Creek Falls in South Carolina. That area had very recently undergone a controlled burn. Areas were still smoking and some stumps and trunks were still aflame.

Uncertainty. Will it rain too much? Will the downed timber be a problem? Will the recent fire cause issues? Will I be able to get good photographs of Tabor Falls? We seek the answers to so many questions before starting an endeavor. Often, there is only one way to find out- GO.

A light drizzle is falling from overcast skies in the darkness the next morning. Perfect. The drizzle escalates into steady rain by the time I pack and leave the house. Not so perfect.

I still hope for the heaviest rain to end by the time I arrive at the WMA. Still, I prepare myself in the event that it does not and carry with me a large black umbrella, complete with pink and green polka dots.

The drive to Lake Russell WMA is almost a straight shot. One short, sketchy section of dirt road leads to a questionable pull out that looks like the only possible spot to park before the closed gate. It is now mid morning with rain still steadily coming down. The temperature is chilly but not cold, which is great for walking.

The beginning of this short route to the falls follows the dirt road that is gated to vehicle traffic. Soon, it turns from the road to the right. This was once the start of the unmarked, unofficial trail. Now, I look at a wide swath of cleared trees cut across the hills with slick barkless trunks scattered haphazardly across it.

Springtime has not yet fully graced the foothills. The trees are still bare and, due to the logging, thinned out and sparse in spots. The graceful undulating topography of the land has been callously exposed. This is also the land that has been put to the torch.

The scenery is of post-apocalyptic destruction. The ground is coated in ash. Trees laid across the ground are all blackened with char. Standing trees bear marks of the flames as well. A population of mountain laurel covers the hillsides. Normally a dressed in dark, waxy green foliage, the fires have evaporated the life from them leaving them a dry yellow and copper.

Somehow, in the midst of all of this, the fire gods have spared the trails weaving through the region. They are unburned paths, plainly visible, cutting through the fields of ash and coal.

These trails must have been deliberately preserved by whatever fire crews operated in the area. It was the same way at Long Creek Falls. And, I remember from that experience that though the hills were burned, the areas adjacent to streams was left untouched. That seems to be the case here, as I discover at a couple of crossings of the creek.

Although I have not carried one on a hike before, the umbrella is a surprisingly useful tool. It keeps the rain off of me to the extent that I do not need to use my poncho. Some artful manipulation of its handle allows me to drop it to either side and allow me to pass under low hanging branches. Most importantly, I will be able to hold it over my camera as I photograph in the rain, minimizing the chances of water falling onto the lens and ruining the shot.

The trail meanders just a short distance through the charred forest before arriving at the area of Tabor Falls. Though still out of view, its deep roar is plainly audible. I must scramble down a steep grade to get there. This is even more precarious due to the soft, loose earth and ash made slick by the morning’s rain. Umbrella folded and tucked away, I slide down to the level of the stream.

The dark and dominant cliffs of Tabor Falls rise imposingly just upstream. The sound of it reverberates in my chest as its waters come crashing down from above. The rain is now more than a drizzle, less than steady, and intermittent. Hues of green foliage and orange fallen leaves glisten vibrantly in the wetness.

A large rock near the stream creates an overhang large enough to stash my gear out of the rain. I then start the slow process of scrambling over slick rocks and through knotted branches seeking photographic compositions. The process leaves me saturated and chilled, but I find what I am looking for.

Trout lillies are scattered on the banks and just beginning to send forth blooms from their base of mottled leaves. Other tiny white flowers bloom amongst them, but I do not know the name of these.

My idea was to linger at Tabor until lunch. However, with the rain persisting and with a number of good photos already, I feel it is becoming time to move on.

There are at least three more waterfalls downstream from here. They are plotted on my map and they aren’t too far. I start to scramble up the steep side of the ravine back towards the trail. Before reaching it, though, I come to a spot that stops me. It is a hollow area in the muddy ground with a small earthen embankment around it, almost like a hole left by the root ball of a fallen tree. But no tree is there.

What I find on this dirt rim is a simple wooden cross overlooking Tabor Falls. Near it is a plastic tote containing a stuffed animal and a few other trinkets. I don’t think this is an actual grave, but it is definitely a memorial for someone’s lost child.

I don’t know who you were Kelly Heath, but you were greatly loved in your short time here in this world. I stand still as the cold seeps in, thinking of loss. Raindrops spatter on the leaves all around.

The sides of the ravine become more steep as the terrain slopes downstream. I arrive back at the trail and it continues in that direction. It continues, that is, until the way becomes completely blocked by a large blown down tree. Gingerly, I try to make my way down or up to get around it.

The muddy char underfoot gives way easily. It is too slick to continue. These waterfalls will have to wait for another day.

Following the trail back upstream returns me to flatter terrain. I have one more option to chase another waterfall. Upper Tabor Falls lies further in that direction and the walking here is much easier.

Arriving at these falls, I see they are significantly smaller. Still, they have an enchanting, welcoming presence.

I am slow and deliberate as I find my photographs, but my time here is short. An understanding comes to me. I have what I need. It is time to go.

Rain continues to fall. Despite the easy walk back towards the car, I am now thoroughly wet. Cold grips my limbs. I still tote the polka dotted umbrella, but at this point it is merely for moral support.

Uncertainty. The term implies that the results may not be successful or to our liking. I made some good images today and endured the elements. Though I found a second waterfall, I failed to reach several other intended destinations.

In the end, I walk out from the burned forest having vanquished uncertainty. Perhaps that was simply the goal all along.

You guys! As short as this trip was, it felt great to get out on an adventure again! What did you think of Tabor Falls? The burned forest? Uncertainty? Let me know-

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

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

Update

As this issue of Field Notes is published, I’m heading out on a backpacking trip. It’s not the Bartram Trail, as I had intended. That is currently off the table due to a section of the trail being closed because of the Big Ridge wildfire in the Warwoman WMA.

Instead, I am hiking the Duncan Ridge Trail. This is a shorter 30 mile trail, but was designed to be a loop connecting 2 points on the Appalachian Trail. So, 60 miles total, probably 4 days/3 nights. As frustrating as it is to cancel the Bartram for a second time due to natural disaster, I’m really looking forward to the DRT!

So. I don’t know how this will work out due to cell coverage. My plan for the Bartram Trail was to put out trail updates in Substack Notes. Then, next week’s Field Notes would be a compilation of those posts. I’m going to stick with that format for the DRT, just to see how it goes. It won’t be a polished piece, but I need a bit of time to write the adventure story and work on photos.

Also, bear with me if I am not able to reply to comments on this post right away. But, thanks for reading!

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