Great Falls, Potomac, MD

The Potomac is quite famous for lots of reasons involving Washington D.C. and U.S. history, especially during the Civil War. But did you know that less than 20 miles upstream from D.C., there's both a national park (on the Virginia side of the river) and a national historic park (on the Maryland side)? I didn't until earlier this summer. The falls are impressive and beautiful, and the Maryland side is also home to the Chesapeake and Ohio canal (which never made it to Ohio, but more on that next time, along with all the lovely flora and fauna we encountered along the canal).

As we approached the falls from the Maryland side, we walked first along and then across sections of the Potomac. There were many great blue herons (Ardea herodias) flying about and using the rapids as fishing grounds.

A boardwalk path has been constructed across some of the smaller channels, which are no less beautiful. Interestingly, the roar of the falls is almost deafening in certain sections and then promptly dissipates as you walk past the confines of the echoing gorge.

The name Potomac is an anglicization of Patawomeck, an Algonquian name. The name did not originally refer to the river, however, but to an Algonquian village on the southern bank. The name Patawomeck now also refers to one of Virginia's recognized Native American tribes.

Downstream, the view was less dramatic, but still absolutely gorgeous, particularly with all the early summer greenery.

Interestingly, despite the placement of the National Park, the falls themselves—and most of the lower Potomac river, in fact—are officially considered part of Maryland; most of the border with Virginia is actually designated as the low tide mark of the river.

Here is one of the larger sections of the main falls. There are many small rapids and several 20-foot falls; altogether the river drops 76 feet through this stretch, which is less than a mile long.

Just upstream of the falls, the Potomac is over 1000 feet wide, but it narrows through the falls and beyond, to as little as 60-100 feet through Mather Gorge, just downstream, before widening again as it flows through DC and into the Chesapeake. So the falls channel a lot of water, and a lot of energy.

As I stood watching the mesmerizing falls, this great blue heron put on a little show for me, first gliding in...

To land by one of the falls...

And then hopping over to a better vantage point.

This mallard was also clearly also taking advantage of the falls to feed.

Here's looking downstream again, just as the rain was starting.

(After waiting out the thunderstorm...) From downstream, looking back at the falls, you can glimpse the rising mist produced by all that churning.

It was a really lovely daytrip, one I'd highly recommend to anyone in the area.

More on the nearby canal—and all the wildflowers and wildlife we saw along it—soon!

Monsoon 2021: It's Raining!!!

It's been raining!!! If you don't think that merits three exclamation points, hear me out...

Last year was one of the hottest and driest years on record here in Tucson. It was pretty miserable. And when I went hiking back in May, I could see the effects of the drought in the vegetation, even in the usually lush mountains; the vegetation was mostly either dried to a crisp or red from stress. So the fact that it's been raining—and in bucket loads—is extremely exciting. 

Here's a pretty cool visualization of the monsoon season from the National Weather Service, although it's already a week—and I believe a couple of inches—out of date.

Unfortunately, getting multiple inches of rain at once is often a bit problematic, and especially given that a significant portion of the nearby Catalina Mountains burned last summer, there's less vegetation to soak up all the water, which means basically a constant risk of flash flooding. 

The path dips beneath each bridge, which is usually convenient in avoiding road crossing,
but unsurprisingly, they were all flooded out last weekend.

Luckily, where I am, there's a river that is usually just a dry wash, but last weekend was a beautifully raging river, feeding all the runoff into the Santa Cruz River. 

I took all of these photos last weekend, just after the multi-inch downpour ended and the sky cleared.

One of the really cool things about a usually-dry-wash flooding is that there's so much vegetation in the riverbed (even cacti) that when the water flows over it, it produces beautifully chaotic turbulence. 

The Rillito also has some human-made features (e.g. concrete barriers) that produce some pretty interesting texture in the river.

Like me, the wildflowers—such as this desert marigold (Baileya multiradiata)—seemed very happy to finally have some water after a very dry year.

This desert willow (Chilopsis linearis) was also eye-catching.

In fact, there was lots of bustling desert life seemingly enjoying the lovely cool (under 80℉!) weather that afternoon. There were several spiny lizards (I think desert spiny, Sceloporus magister?), with particularly lovely orange heads.

And also several of these cute zebra-tailed lizards (Callisaurus draconoides).

Roadrunner (Geococcyx californianus) sightings always make me happy. They are such a joy to watch as they dash about.

The Gila woodpeckers (Melanerpes uropygialis) were also out in large numbers, particularly along one stretch of the path.

Gila woodpeckers like to nest inside saguaros, as this one was demonstrating so cooperatively.

This mourning dove (Zenaida macroura) was also nesting.

Despite the humans also being out in seemingly record numbers, even the small, shy mammals were out and about right next to the path. Including this curious desert cottontail (Sylvilagus audubonii)...

And these adorable round-tailed ground squirrels (Xerospermophilus tereticaudus).

In perhaps the biggest surprise of the day, when I walked down one of the ramps to get a bit closer to the water, I even saw a dead fish! I have no idea what kind, but I almost stepped on it.

I'll leave you with just a few more photos of the glorious river.