Egypt Falls
Friday, May 23, 2025
I got up a bit later than I’d hoped—around 5:30 AM—but the sky looked good enough for a hike. Today’s destination: Egypt Falls. It’s about 90 minutes away, and I figured if I spent two hours at the falls, I’d be back before noon and hopefully beat the incoming storm.
The drive down was scenic, winding around the saltwater lake and through some stunning countryside, but the clouds had rolled in. Flat light, no contrast. Not ideal for photos, but I carried on.
The road to the Egypt Falls trailhead is rough, but nothing the Subaru couldn’t handle—even with its soon-to-be-replaced tires. I packed my raincoat in the roll-top compartment of my Shimoda backpack. That pack has been worth every penny—waterproof, well-designed, and with smart compartments for camera gear and essentials. The only downside? The water bottle pockets on the sides don’t fit my 1L bottle well, and it flops around awkwardly. I ended up stuffing it into the top compartment—so much for waterproofing when your water’s on the inside.
The trail itself is basically, “Hey, I hear a waterfall—let’s just head straight down this ravine!” Fortunately, there are plenty of young trees for handholds and a generous amount of orange and yellow flagging tape marking the way. I felt like a monkey as I carefully made my descent.
Eventually, I reached the semi-developed area: stairs, a picnic table, and piles of pressure-treated lumber that hint at further improvements to come. The final descent featured ropes to help navigate a steep, narrow section. And then—there it was.
Egypt Falls.
Even though I’d seen it countless times in photos and videos (Gavin Hardcastle, I’m looking at you), standing in that river valley in person was incredible. Easily one of the most impressive waterfalls I’ve ever seen.
I explored the area and took some standard shots before switching over to the “nifty fifty” (my only serious prime lens) and the Zenitar—which I’ve just about had it with. I swear it actively refuses to focus. It might end up gifted to some poor soul. I eventually settled on a long-exposure panorama. After stitching it together back at camp, I was genuinely surprised—barely any branch movement and razor-sharp detail. One part is a bit overexposed, but overall it’s one of my favorite shots from the trip.
Around 10:00 AM, it was time to head out. As tempting as it was to linger in that valley, the storm was coming, and the climb out wasn’t going to be easy. The ropes were helpful, but the clay-rich soil made me nervous—it looked like it would turn slick in the rain. I took my time, rested when I needed, and eventually pulled myself back out.
The wind was already picking up, gusts slamming off the ocean and pushing the car around. By the time I got back to camp, my kitchen tarp had collapsed. I set it back up, but the wind kept battering me, and the cold made cooking nearly impossible—my stove just couldn’t hold heat in the gusts. After several failed attempts, I gave up, grabbed the last of my trail snacks, and retreated to the trailer.
Then the storm hit. Twigs and rain pelted the trailer in sheets. Even with stabilizing jacks, it rocked in the wind. I kept thinking the roof tarp had blown off—but it held. The storm raged on through the evening and into the night. I finally managed to fall asleep around midnight.
Oh—and before all this, I got new neighbors on both sides while I was out. Great timing.