Secret Waterfalls and a Secret(er) Mine
I’ve always toyed with the idea of taking one or a few days to just aggressively dash down the trails spurring off highway 281 and reaching every waterfall locale it had to offer in one fell swoop. From the main attractions such as Whitewater Falls, a 400+ foot behemoth, to the hidden, far less-traveled gems like Big Rock Falls and John’s Jump Falls (pictured right) where there are no signs or blazes to guide you. There are shallow caves and cut-ins worth looking into as well as cliffs by Paradise Falls that are perfect for jumping off of. The terrain is simply too diverse to ignore.
I hadn’t intended on exploring around 281 though. I was getting into my car in search of the Stumphouse Tunnel (you won’t have to search too hard to find it. that article is coming soon) when I received a phone call from an old friend wanting to go exploring together. That quick change of plans led to my favorite thing about adventuring, and that is the art of stumbling. Stumbling onto signs of disturbance, stumbling onto new offshoots where the river splits and leads to new views, and, this time, stumbling onto an abandoned mining road.
We set out first to John’s Jump Falls. This big boy is real easy to get to, but that is only if you already know where it is. It’s not on very many maps, and you won’t see a single sign or marked trail for it. Hidden behind a field encircled by a switchback on the highway (you may call them hairpin turns or u-curves), John’s Jump lends itself to being little more than a nice view. There isn’t much of a landing near the base to camp, and the pool certainly isn’t deep enough to jump into, which makes me question John’s motives for jumping, but I can’t seem to find any information on the origin of the name. It is rather pretty though, and the ducts at the top are fun to play in, especially if you’re an IT fan like I am.
After John’s Jump we sped down the road to the White Owl Fall's access, but the abundance of exposed sun-baked rock raised concerns for rattlesnakes, so we’ll just have to go back another day.
Finally, D.E.W falls. This is where things got interesting. D.E.W Falls is named after Dorothy Ehlrich Walker, a young girl who died in a car accident in 2003 and attended Colombia, SC’s Hammond School who’s students built the trail leading to the waterfall as a senior project. The hike is very, very short, but the alcove that the waterfall sits in is beautiful and serene. The trail to the waterfall spurs off what I had presumed was an old logging road that I had never explored.
My friend and adventure companion, Zach, urged me to walk down the road with him, and the extra effort may very well have been worth it. The road is easy to lose as it is overgrown with rhododendrons and high grasses, but the slope where it cuts into the embankment makes a great point of reference when traipsing through the woods. The trail itself is relatively uninteresting, that is until we stumbled (I told you there’d be adventurous stumbling here) upon a sign. “Closure of Grimshawe Mine” is all I needed to see to justify crawling through rhodie thickets.
We were pressed for time, unfortunately, and had to turn back, but I noted the location of the sign and did a little reading on the history of the Grimshawe Mine. Everything I found can be read here, but the short of it is that people have been arguing over this strip mine since they stopped mining for asbestos there in the 60s. A rehabilitation project began in 2003, and the woods does relatively look like natural woods again, cut-in banks and obvious clear-cutting landings aside. I’m sure there is more to be seen further down trail, but that will have to wait for another day.
Adventure On!
-JGM