[silvi]

From "Tracking Down Oregon" by Ralph Friedman (I obtained permission to quote from the book from the publisher) The story is titled "A name for Opal Creek Falls" it's about a man named Ray Haines. I thought it extraordinary, and wanted to share it: (this was published in 1978) "They have no names. They cannot be found on any map. No trails lead to them. These are the waterfalls I first heard about from Ray Haines, who had found them while stumbling through the woods in search of a good fishing hole. ...My friends at the U.S. Forest Service regional headquarters in Portland knew nothing of the falls. Neither did the people in charge of Willamette National Forest , where the falls are located. The head of the Detroit Ranger Station, not too far from the falls had never been to them, nor had any of his men. So concealed are the falls, probably the most inaccessible in the state, that I doubt that more than a dozen people have looked upon them. It would be rather difficult to reach the falls, wrote Ray Haines. "Due to the high altitude and rough going, I would not advise anyone to make the trip that was not in good shape.".... At his home in Salem we took aboard Ray Haines, a tall, broad-shouldered, slightly stooped, gentle man of eighty-four. All his life he had worked with his hands, mostly out of doors, and he had all the signs of a man close to nature and familiar with toil. "I'm all set and ready to go," he smiled..... We started carefree down a scuffed-out path that dropped precipitously into a maw of trees that shook their branches in welcome, like friendly puppies ecstatic in greeting any stranger who comes to the door... It took us nearly thirty minutes to reach Opal Lake, and we did not dally. A dry thread of a path through the woods grew moist and then was swallowed up in marshland. Still, we could tell where others had disturbed the wild. Exuberant, we arrived at Opal Lake yet fresh. Three young people were rafting on the lake and when they came close we called out, "Which way to the falls?" "What falls?" they replied. .. "We'll find them," Ray Haines said firmly. He was using a limb as a cane now, to steady himself. From the left, or west side, of the lake, we had to push and slither our way through the thick, underbrush-heavy forest, everyone stumbling at least once or twice, and Ray Haines coming down hard several times. Each time he apologized, more concerned about our concern for him than for himself. It was not his age, he said. He still put in a good day's work, five days a week, and on the sixth chopped wood for the winter. On the seventh day he went fishing or hiking. Two years ago he and a companion had made it to the falls and done fine; he did not know why the going was more strenuous today. We tusseled through uncut stands of Douglas fir (some of the..trees..400 years old, Ray Haines said), hemlock, cedar, Noble fir, anemone, rhododendron, fireweed, (penstemmon) huckleberry bushes, Devil's club and salmonberry. "There is the way," Ray Haines spoke up, bent over now more than ever, but full of quiet confidence, and that is the way we went. At a huge outcropping of granite, a ponderous rock covered by a hairpiece of damp moss, Ray said "We'll have to find a way over or around it." We did, through footwork that was not always deft and by using knobs of the rocky mass to pivot ourselves forward, and followed the dim chatter of the creek to the upper falls. .......The water came leaping down, slapping and swishing and skipping down a scalloped cliff, free and without pose, an elfin heart performing for it's own pleasure and to the delight of the forest animals who sipped from the creek. "Might as well get down to the big falls," said Ray, but as we started, expecting to backward crawl and rope our way down, ...Ray tumbled heavily, smashing a hand on a rock. The skin looked like bloody pulp and we wanted to bandage it but he shook off our entreaties. "It'll mend," he said. "Lets go." We might have gone on - I was having second thoughts - if Ray had not twice more tripped, once to his knees and once stretched out. That was it. There was no point in risking serious injury. We could have left him behind, but I was afraid. Someone could have kept him company, but .. it would be at least two more hours before we started back. I did not know what the two hours would do to him nor what he, still restless in spirit, would attempt. So I aborted the mission.....By the time we reached the car, though, Ray was in great shape and talking about trying it again soon. There was time for me to do some mediating on the hike back. What an unusual man I had met in Ray Haines. He was in the true mold of the American Pioneer...And he had seen eighty-four summers come and go - never forget that. At at time when most other men his age were waiting for a gust of wind to tip over the last slender reed of life in a nursing home, this man was still taking long steps, still exploring, still talking of undiscovered places and asking who was stout enough to go with him. No, death would not easily carry him off; he would be a tiger to the end. "Before I go," he would say, pushing off the dark angel, "there is a creek deep in the woods nobody has followed from end to end, and I mean to do it." Back on the road, we spoke of naming the falls. "I suggest Topaz, as there are two other names of semi-precious stones in the area. Pearl Creek and Opal Creek," said Ray. "That is a multiple fall and I believe the Topaz is a multicolored stone." By the time you read this I'll probably have returned to the area,....and I'll call them Haines (Falls) - even if no one but me accepts the name. Topaz is fine, but the greatness of a man should be better remembered than a stone. ( I looked up the name Ray Haines in the Social Security Death Index, and if it is the same Ray Haines from Linn County, he was born in 1891 and died at age 99, in 1990. )

[Snowbrushy]

Very interesting story I guess it's not much of a secret anymore where the falls are??

[silvi]

No, not a secret anymore. Also, as a postscript, neither the author or Mr. Haines got any say in naming the falls. They are, simply, Opal Creek Falls.

[silvi]

Directions to the falls are: East from Mehama Jct on Oregon 22, 0.8 mi Elkhorn Jct. turn north 16.8 mi, right toward Opal Lake 5.4 mi, left 0.7 miles, right 4.3 miles, Park at Opal Lake, path to lake is on the north side. I believe there is a path now to one of the three falls.

[Sore Feet]

Neat story. Its actually just "Opal Falls" though. There were at one time plans to continue the trail from Jawbone Flats and Opal Pool all the way to the falls, and possibly the lake too, but I haven't heard of any progress. Very very very few pictures of the falls have been published online to this day still, and while its not nearly as remote as the author makes it sound (1 1/2 miles or so from the TH), it definitely isn't something thats well known. As an odd side note, I wonder if this is the same Haines for whom Haines Falls on the Tualatin River was named (the name was adopted in 1980, so the age fits, though usually, features are named for dead people, so maybe not).

[silvi]

Thank you, Sore feet. I stand corrected on the name. I too, wondered if Haines falls was named for him. I believe that at the time the story was written, (probably around 1975) it probably was more remote than in, say, the last 10 years or so. It sounds like they had to crawl through Devil's Club, Rhody, and other brush to get to the falls. A mile and a half on a trail isn't remote, but a mile and a half through brush on your hands and knees seems pretty remote, even if not far. I've had to crawl through vine maple, huckleberry thickets, rhody, etc on my hands and knees, and a couple hundred feet of that seems like miles.

[Sore Feet]

No doubt the area was more remote 30 years ago, but the logging roads that provide access to the ridged area between Tumbling Lake, French Creek and Opal Creek were there at that time, so Opal Lake wouldn't be too difficult to access even if there wasn't a trail at that time (the article mentions guys in a raft fishing on the lake, so it must have been fairly easy access). No doubt it would have seemed like a very remote waterfall - I know the area and the brush is nasty - but there are much more isolated waterfalls around, Three Sisters Wilderness area, for example holds many.

[silvi]

Sore Feet, I see your point. I thought you were saying that it wouldn't have been difficult for an 84 year old to reach, but now I understand you are referring to Ralph's statement that they were "perhaps the most inaccessible" falls in the state. Yes, you are correct that there are other falls which are far more remote than those. I'm not sure why he made that statement. Unfortunately, Ralph has also passed away, so we may never know. He was well aquainted with the history and geography of the state, (He travelled to most if not all of the places in his book) so I believe he had a reason, just no idea of what it was.

[Sore Feet]

[jimsiff]

[Sore Feet]

[lynnetteasis]

Ray Haines was my great grandfather. It is so neat to hear these stories about him. When I last saw him he was 99 years old. When we got to his place we were told he was out at the pasture. My mother insisted he was out with the Pastor. He came in shagging the mud off his boots. He had been out in the pasture chopping wood. Ray taught my grandfather, who in turn taught my father, who in turn taught me where to go to find precious gems and minerals. And fishing holes. We used to pan a lot when I was growing up. We would get way back into the wilderness for weeks on end. We never saw another soul the whole time we were out there. Fishing, that was great grand dad's and grand dad's passion. I still use a lot of their tackle when I go fishing. Ray lived a lot of different places in Washington and Oregon. Grandpa went to school in Trout Lake, WA. They lived in Washougal, Salem, Roseburg, Oregon City, Portland and certainly more than I can name. Great grandma ran a soup kitchen past Washougal for many years. Feeding the Indians and railway guys, both bums and workers. The little stone hut still stands off HWY 14 a few miles east from Washougal. Ray was an avid explorer often leaving his family at home for weeks on end to blaze new grounds. He was esspecially fond of the St. Helen's and the Wind River areas. Haines Street in Portland is named after him.

[Ski]

welcome to the site. where are the photos?