Carter Falls, Mt. Rainier National Park

Getting back to my series of Mt. Rainier photos, here’s one of Carter Falls, one of the park’s “smaller” waterfalls. It’s actually a fairly decent-sized falls, but it pales in comparison to the thundering cascades of Comet and Spray Falls. What it lacks in stature, however, it makes up for in adventure—that is, if you want to get to the base of the falls and photograph it from below.

Finding the falls is the easy part. A short hike up the Wonderland Trail from a trailhead just across the road from the Cougar Rock Campground gets you there in about thirty minutes, give or take a few. The trail pauses at an overlook on top of a 50-foot cliff, with a view of Carter Falls through the trees. Not content with a distant “tourist” view, I started trying to find a scramble path down to the base of the falls.

At this point my small army of lawyers asks me to caution that this is one of those “don’t try this at home” type of things. Not that trying this at home would make any sense, unless you live near a waterfall, but you catch my meaning. This is dangerous stuff, only to be attempted by those who are very fit and experienced in the outdoors, or very dumb. Sorry for the interruption—I promise to keep my lawyers chained inside a closet from now on—back to the story.

I saw what I thought was a promising line of descent and started climbing down the cliff, only to be stopped by a sheer drop of about thirty feet. To my right, the cliff became more of a slope, but the bottom of the slope was very steep and slippery, and appeared to end in a drop of about five feet right above the river. When down-climbing, one must always remember two rules: (1) climbing down is harder than climbing up, as your center of gravity is a bit more precarious when you are heading down; and (2) don’t go down anything you can’t get back up. Rule 2 always trumps Rule 1—even if the climb back up will be easier than the climb down, it doesn’t help you much if you slide down a five foot slope that can’t be climbed and you get stuck.

So, wisely applying Rule 2, I decided to find another down-climbing option. I had been eyeing a steep ravine nearby that seemed too gnarly to try at first, but the more I looked at it, the more I figured that I could make it down. With my brief moment of wisdom slipping away, I began sliding down the ravine, clutching on weedy branches and rocks to keep my descent somewhat controlled. Near the bottom of the ravine, I was stopped by a menacing patch of Devil’s club, the Northwest’s answer to the cactus. I’d rather fall twenty feet than walk through a patch of spiny Devil’s club. Luckily, I was able to avoid both, as I spotted a zigzag “ramp” on the cliff next to me, which allowed me to finish my down-climb safely.

"Carter Falls" - Mt. Rainier National Park

Once I got to the bottom, I put on a pair of fly-fishing chest waders and headed into the water. No, I wasn’t planning on doing any fly fishing. Chest waders allow you to get into the water and find unique perspectives without getting wet or hypothermic (the streams in Mt. Rainier are all glacier-fed so they are very cold). Sorry, at this point I have to issue another disclaimer—my lawyers are gnashing their teeth right now—so remember kids, just because you can play in a stream, doesn’t mean you should. Avoid deep water and any place where the current is strong, lest you find yourself, or worse—your expensive camera equipment—washed away. If people would just use common sense, we wouldn’t need so many lawyers. There, that should shut them up for a while.

Now where were we . . . oh yeah, I had safely made it down to the base of the falls, donned my chest waders, and gotten into the stream. I found a composition that I liked, which put me in a strong moving flow beneath water cascading over a boulder. The flowing water became my foreground, and the relative position of the waterfall, the boulder, and the water flow formed a compositionally powerful zigzag (I talk more about zigzag compositions in my latest eBook 10 Easy Ways to Improve Your Landscape Compositions). I was pleased with the composition, but the execution turned out to be rather difficult. The water was flowing fast enough that it caused chronic vibrations in my tripod. When working in moving water, your best bet is to bring a big, heavy, stable tripod to dampen vibrations. Alas, I only had my diminutive Benro trekking tripod, which was shaking like a gaggle of lawyers at the thought of a world without lawyers. All I could do was brace my tripod with my arms as best I could, and take photo after photo until I got one that was acceptably sharp. After several minutes of shooting, my patience finally paid off, and I got an image that made up for all the effort and danger.

Now, how the hell am I going to get back up?

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About Ian Plant (275 Posts)

Ian Plant's photographs and instructional articles have appeared in a number of books, calendars, and magazines, including Outdoor Photographer and Popular Photography. Ian writes a regular blog column for Outdoor Photographer online, and he is the author of numerous instructional eBooks and digital processing tutorials. Ian leads several photo tours each year.