Summary

Ian Hanson shares his serendipitous discovery of Minnesota's tallest waterfall, High Falls in Grand Portage State Park, and his subsequent experiences, including a chance encounter with the Northern Lights and the realization of the importance of returning to special places.

Abstract

In the narrative titled "Seeking The Tallest Waterfall," traveler and photographer Ian Hanson recounts his accidental finding of Minnesota's tallest waterfall, the High Falls on the Pigeon River, which stands at 120 feet tall. During his visit, he encounters another photographer scouting for the aurora borealis, leading Hanson to witness a faint display of the Northern Lights over the waterfall. Reflecting on the experience, Hanson emphasizes the value of revisiting locations to capture their essence across different seasons and conditions. He contrasts his own preparedness with that of the other photographer and concludes that as a local, one has the unique opportunity to develop a deep connection with a place through repeated visits.

Opinions

Hanson suggests that labels in marketing and tourism, such as "the tallest" or "the best," are attractive to travelers and motivate them to visit and photograph these places.
He points out the ease of accessibility to High Falls for all visitors, including those with wheelchairs, due to the paved paths and ramps.
Hanson values the camaraderie and knowledge exchange between photographers, as evidenced by his encounter with another photographer at the falls.
He believes in the power of serendipity and luck in travel, which led to his unexpected experiences at the falls and with the Northern Lights.
Hanson reflects on the idea that local photographers should strive to have the best photographs of their home area, as they can return to a location multiple times to capture it in various lights and seasons.
Despite not being fully prepared for the cold or the photographic challenges of capturing the aurora borealis, Hanson cherishes the opportunity to be present at such an event.
He advocates for the enriching experience of revisiting places, like waterfalls, to observe their transformations throughout the year and to create a narrative with depth and variety.

GLOBETROTTERS

Seeking The Tallest Waterfall

In Minnesota

*Story and photos ©Ian Hanson. All rights reserved.*

When it comes to marketing and tourism, we like labels.

Labels give us an excuse to go visit something. To take a photo in front of a thing because it is the biggest, best, first, last, fastest, tallest, longest, or gosh darn prettiest of its kind.

Within every category, there is only really one at the top. In 2019 I accidentally came across the Tallest Waterfall in Minnesota.

High Falls, Grand Portage State Park

It is here that you can find Minnesota’s tallest waterfall, the aptly named High Falls on the Pigeon River. It cascades down 120 feet from top to bottom, an impressive display of spray and power. If you’re a purist you should look elsewhere, as this technically rides the border with Canada.

The falls are easy to reach for any traveler. The path is paved and includes a wheelchair-accessible ramp for the final section. If you want to see more, there are also the Middle Falls in the park. This is a 3.5-mile roundtrip out and back starting from High Falls. I have yet to experience this but I hear the trail is a bit rugged.

When I left the house that week in 2019, I had no idea I would be exploring these falls. My aim was simply to practice content creation. The goal was to see if I could live out of the car for an extended period while making images and writing blog posts.

I chalked my discovery up to traveler’s luck, the luck of the road, and serendipity striking again. What I did not realize was that I was about to experience that luck turned up to eleven.

The Northern Lights

When traveling alone, I have a strong tendency to talk to strangers. Primarily those toting large cameras that look like they know what they are doing. Sometimes they even reach out to me first.

Photographers typically operate like lone wolves, our hearts and minds hunting elusive game. Over this, we sometimes bond. At these falls I met another photographer who was doing some prep work for a dark sky phenomenon.

He was scouting for aurora borealis.

In chatting with him, there was a good chance that they would show up. With the freedom of an open schedule, I opted to stick around that evening for a chance to see this swirling river sky dance.

The idea, if they appeared, was to catch them over the waterfalls. With his research from earlier, he had images that he could use to composite when it came time to edit. He had multiple cameras, researched the weather, and was generally prepared for any chance at them.

I, on the other hand, was under-prepared for the cold, had one camera, and had no idea how to shoot them. I was simply happy to be there, as hours earlier I would have had no inclination that the lights were even happening.

While we did get a little glow, it was far from a show. A high horizon blocked most of the light and I had not prepared imagery for editing. Since this experience five years ago, I have chased the lights intentionally and come away with much more stunning imagery. But that’s another post.

The Power of Returning

I read a powerful quote the other day. So powerful I forgot to write it down verbatim, but can relate to the general feeling.

“As a photographer, you should have the best photos of your local area.”

That really hit me.

The photographer went on to explain that as a local, you have the power to return to a place, over and over again. You can see it through the seasons, you can witness it during storms, you can be there for the special moments. Anyone with a couple of hours on a random day once in their life should not be able to nab a photo of your backyard that outperforms your ability to consistently show up.

In my home state of Minnesota, my trek from Grand Meadow to Grand Portage is around four hundred miles. To say that I am a local would be to redefine the definition. It would make me a local of Chicago, Kansas City, Canada, well you get the picture. I’m close enough to be dangerous.

Yet I have returned a few times. The older I get, the more I find myself returning to old haunts from the past, instead of exploring new locations. With waterfalls, you can return in the fall when the colors are vibrant. You can return in the spring when the melting snow fills the river with vim and vigor. Or how about winter, when snow dresses it up and changes the entire mood completely?

When I think about the High Falls at Grand Portage State Park, I now have a backlog of memories to peruse. I have been building a story of this place, a story with fullness and depth.

Waterfalls have always intrigued me. As a youth with romantic ideals, I imagined having a first kiss behind one. When I was old enough to travel, I envisioned seeking the largest ones around the globe. While speaking at a convention, I met the woman who wrote the book on Minnesota waterfalls, many of which I have now photographed.

Though they may come in many shapes and sizes, with labels large or small, it has been quite an adventure in Minnesota, to seek the tallest of them all.

This story comes to us via the monthly challenge at the Globetrotter’s Publication, posted by Anne Bonfert here.

For more waterfalls, check out these stories by Anupa Jayakody and The Travelling Programmer. I have yet to visit Banff but have enjoyed Iceland and hope to see you all out there after reading these!

Gorgeous Waterfalls in Banff

Memories in Banff, Alberta Recreating Our Moments 31.3 (Aug 22, 2023)

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Iceland - The World's Most Beautiful Sunset

A story about how tired eyes and tired minds led to experiencing the most beautiful sunset

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