Three Falls, Two Tributaries, One Name.
My Spring yearning and camera leads me to the headwaters of Sycamore Creek, a remote location in the mountains of northern Arizona within the Sycamore Canyon Wilderness area of the Kaibab National Forest.
As I trek down the crunchy, chert gravel road with the windows of my truck rolled down, the crisp, spring scent of moist earth and pine fills the air as it breezes through, encompassing all things nature. Head swiveling and eyes surveying through both windows, I continually spy large pools of snow melt, saturating every meadow I pass. I pull off by one and notice the reflecting light mirroring the towering ponderosa pines. As I take it all in, I hear the sound of a small brook. Each element contributes to a gentle murmur as the water trickles over pebbles and rocks. Its soft, continuous babbling is rhythmic and calming.
The Sycamore waterfalls are distinctive as they cascade just a short distance from where the snowmelt starts in the meadows, swiftly flowing down a creek before plunging into the falls.
The water's path meanders and involuntarily splits into two main draws. From here, the water narrows into the start of rock-ribbed creeks and quickly flows towards two canyons. As I walk downstream, more brooks join in, and the chorus becomes more pronounced. The water pours over branches and rocks, creating a melodic gurgling and swishing as the current bends, carving its path through the landscape. Overall, the sound of the creeks is a tranquil refuge where one can lose themselves in the gentle cadence of nature's music.
I snap from my hypnotic state and hastily drive to the trailhead, throw on my pack, and eagerly hike down to the first fall. I am assured that the water will have gained mass and be in natural percussion by the time I arrive.
Approaching the first fall, I hear the thundering of water, adding a roaring base depth as it rebounds off the canyon walls. Approaching the edge, I see the first glimpse of the rapids cascading over massive boulders and diving over the edge, freefalling into a deep basalt-column-walled canyon. The unique canyon walls attract many local dirtbags, aka rock jocks. Seeing them climbing and descending the walls only elevates my anxiety about positioning myself on the edge of a sheer cliff to better my camera's vantage point.
Ropes: who needs ropes?
I remove my pack and carefully crouch to climb down onto a ledge just below the crest, the best place to lean out over the rock face to capture images of the chute. The water gushes over the edge, creating a mesmerizing display of energy and beauty. I adjust my shutter speed to slow things down to transform the image into a smooth veil of satin pearl, completely opposite of the powerful rage I am perceiving. After a few pics, I lower my camera and suddenly become attuned to my position, perched over a boulder hanging on the edge. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with that gut-dropping feeling of the boulder giving way due to the spring thaw and everything, including me, plunging over the edge.
I carefully inch my way backward, and just as I ease my breathing, I am startled by a man yelling at me from above, "No Photos of the Waterfall!" I look up to see it's a park ranger with a big smile joking with me. I point my finger, shake it at him, and carefully scale up to chat with him a bit. Eventually, I trek onward to capture images of the other two falls, one further downstream and the other on a separate gorge, a short hike away.
The catch with Sycamore Falls is that they only fully flow in force for a few weeks out of the year. You must catch it when you can access it right after the snow melt starts. If you're too early, you cannot approach it, as the snow is too deep and dangerous. If you're too late, it will be a trickle at best. That's what happened to me last year. And then... I had to wait one full year and monitor the melt. This year... I nailed the timing!
From my viewpoint, the canyon continues to drop several thousand feet into the rim rock area, framing spectacular views of northwest Sedona and creating the magical red rock formations for which it is cherished. Sycamore Canyon is the second largest canyon in the Arizona redrock country, after Oak Creek Canyon. It is 21 miles long and roughly 7 miles wide.
Access to Sycamore Falls involves many miles of dirt roads followed by short hikes directly to the falls. Several trails loop for extended miles and wind through the wilderness, offering opportunities to enjoy the surrounding scenery and wildlife. On the park ranger's advice, I hiked to a nearby area called Pomeroy Tanks, which has a fantastic history.
Pomeroy tanks are natural reservoirs that provide a year-round water source to various wildlife. Water-lilies provide shelter for insects and several species of small fish. Hopi tradition tells us that these tanks were used for the historic Overland Road, where native traders used this route to exchange goods such as turquoise, parrot feathers, obsidian, salt, and shells. Bill Williams Mountain, located 8 miles to the northwest, served as a guidepost to these early travelers and is considered sacred to the Hopi and other native tribes.
As I return home, I reflect on the beauty of Sycamore Falls and the surrounding wilderness. It's a place of peace and serenity where nature's music pervades.
To view more photos of this area than shown here, venture onto my site by clicking EFlattVisualart.com and check out the section of Arizona, Sycamore Falls.