North Shore fall colors: Past their peak

Twice in the last two days I've driven from Duluth up to the middle of the North Shore. On Thursday, we were actually looking for fall colors and a glorious hike. Today it was just for a meeting, but I kept my eyes out.

Here's my blow-by-blow, tree-by-tree analysis:

Maples: 

Pool in a woodland stream, Section 13 hike

The famed sugar maple forests of the North Shore ridgelines are nearly done. Entire hillsides of maple trees are barren. Yellow maple leaves carpet the forest floors. Some smaller maples, tucked into the protection of a forest, still have some yellow leaves. Driving through Finland, there was hardly a colored maple leaf left on the trees.

Ironically, there is one glorious orange maple right by the highway where it passes through Gooseberry Falls State Park. Don't let this tree, obviously planted by a landscaper, fool you. The maple season in the heart of the North Shore is nearly over.

Oaks: 

Red oak leaves, Section 13 trail

 Most of the red colors in the inland areas, like on our hike yesterday to Section 13, were on the red oak trees. The red of red oak leaves can be luscious, like lipstick. The oaks tend to stand by themselves in rockier, shallower soil, not in thick groves like the maple. So each colorful oak tree really popped.

Aspen:

Aspens glow yellow, oaks red below Section 13 cliffs

Along Highway 61, clusters of aspen ranged from fully green-leaved to completely empty of leaves. Their color gets better the further we went up the shore. Many solo aspens along the highway and on the hillsides were glorious fountains of golden yellow.

Birch:
What birch? Especially along Highway 61, the birch are virtually all died out. Their white bark still stands, providing nice contrast to the other, still living trees.

If you're looking for fall colors this week, I'd recommend sticking to the Highway 61 corridor. Go for a walk on the ski trails at Split Rock Lighthouse State Park. Hit the Superior Hiking Trail to Elys Peak in the western part of Duluth. There's still lots of lovely autumn out there still, you just might have to look for it.

North Shore fall colors on Twitter: Let's have a hashtag!

Twitter is this huge and powerful online media tool. For a company that has a bird for its logo and a bird song for its main product (tweets), you'd think there might be a lot of nature stuff on the site. There isn't. The most popular topics, the "trending" topics, are celebrities, sports and political gaffes, not bird migration or wildflower blooms. 

Let's use Twitter to follow the amazing show of North Shore fall colors. To do that, we need a "hashtag". I'm suggesting this one: #fallcolors.

I do a lot of tweeting. Here's my Twitter page. Sign up to follow me on Twitter and I'll keep you up to date with what's happening on the North Shore.


Here's, briefly, how Twitter works:

1) Individuals like you or me create an account and a username. 
2) You can pick anyone you want to "follow", and their tweets show up on your timeline as they write them. It's sort of like the old ticker tapes that reported stock prices, bits of information coming in one after another.
3) As people write tweets, they can include a word or short phrase with the character "#" before it. That character used to be known as the number sign, and now it's a "hash tag". 
 4) Then, other people interested in the same word or phrase can search for or click on that word or phrase and find every other tweet with that word or phrase in it.

North Shore folks following the fall colors: Let's share what we're learning about fall colors by using "#fallcolors". Everytime you see something happening with those maples or tamaracks, send out a tweet or a link, and add "#fallcolors" to the tweet.

See what's up with the #fallcolors hashtag right now by clicking on this link.  

Together, we can do this!

Fireweed: The End is Near

Fireweed is blooming along the North Shore. I love the bright colors and proud stance of this native flower, but I know that its appearance means we're at the peak of summer. Fireweed says, "Get going, this summer ain't gonna last."

Here are a few fun facts about Fireweed:

• Although it's best known for pioneering new territory after a fire, it is also very common along newly-built roads. The pictures in this blog post are from the new scenic pull-out off Highway 61 by Split Rock. In my experience, fireweed shows up in abundance on new roadsides in the second and third years after road construction.
•  Fireweed is most common in maritime areas with short hot summers...sounds like the North Shore to me. 
• In Great Britain, it is known as the Rosebay Willowherb. Olympics fans may like to learn that it is the County flower of London.

 

A little bit about lupines

It's lupine season on the North Shore. The fields of blue flowers along Highway 61 rival the golds and yellows of fall for the best colors along the scenic drive. 

Many people I ask tell me that the lupines are their favorite North Shore flowers...even though the flowers aren't native. I guess that makes the lupine like a lot of us: outsiders who have tried to fit in and make the North Shore a little better for everyone.

As you enjoy these towers of flowers, here's a few fun facts to add to your enjoyment:

• "Lupine", as any decent fan of Harry Potter knows, is related to the Latin word for wolf (get it, Professor Lupin...the kind-hearted werewolf?). It was once thought that lupines "wolfed" the nutrients out of the soil, hence the name.
• The North Shore lupine are known scientifically as Lupinus polyphyllus. They are  native to the western US coastal mountains 
• The best stands on Highway 61 are between Two Harbors and Gooseberry. They are often found along the roadside near older homesteads. There are also amazing fields of them between the Pigeon River and Thunder Bay.
• Showing just how perfect they are for the North Shore, lupine do poorly in rich soil. Good thing we're mostly gravel, bedrock and clay up here!

Enjoy the display of colors...it's North Shore summer at its finest.

Tough times for Two Harbors' Jacques

Jacques the giant roadside voyageur stood for years next to the Voyageur Motel along the Two Harbors strip. Now he lies in pieces next to the Earthwood restaurant, just a few yards off the Highway 61 expressway west of town. 

Back in town, his boots had been literally frozen to the ground. His head wobbled as the new owners tried to move him, and Jacques was literally decapitated in order to save him.

When I drove by the other day, the head was still nowhere to be seen. But the new restaurant owners have big plans to put Jacques back together, better than ever. He might even talk again. It's just a little gruesome right now.

Fall colors: get off the highway

North Shore fall color fans know that there are typically two different peak times for the autumn spectacle. First the maple trees in the inland ridges turn ablaze. Then, two or three weeks later, the birch along Highway 61 change to gold.

The tourism boosters don't want you to hear this: those two color peaks are happening at one time. And, compared to other years, Highway 61 fall colors are not all that great.

After experiencing an early spring, the trees by Lake Superior must be ready to hang it up for the year. Along Highway 61, the aspens are in burnished colors of fall, not their typical glimmering yellow. After years of gradual decline and a devastating 2008 ice storm, the paper birch trees along Highway 61 have really suffered and so have their fall colors. You see more of their white bark than of their yellow leaves.

Fall is still the best time to hike the North Shore's fantastic trails. The views are still gorgeous. The trails are dry and the bugs are gone. You just have to get off of Highway 61. Either head inland to the Superior Hiking Trail and the Superior National Forest or get down to the shoreline in a state park like Split Rock Lighthouse, where you can walk for miles along the lakeshore.

Colors are near peak now in the new stretch of the Superior Hiking Trail between Duluth and Two Harbors. Try the six-mile round trip hike from the Rossini Road trailhead to the cute little waterfall on McCarthy Creek.

Flood Bay: An appreciation

So you've made it through the stop-and-start traffic maze of Duluth and up the expressway to Two Harbors. Maybe you stopped for some smoked fish at Lou's or a Culvercinno at Culvers. Now, get your first real taste of the North Shore.

Just 1.5 miles past the last Two Harbors stoplight, turn right at Flood Bay State Wayside. There's a nice gravelly beach that reaches back toward Superior Shores resort, and you can walk the whole way. If you brought a sea kayak, you can launch it here.



If you like agates, you can find them here by the dozens: they are tiny but plentiful. There's a brand new interpretive plaque placed by the Minnesota Geological Society that explains our agates.

Flood Bay was named not for the water that crashes over the beach in a storm but for the Flood family that homesteaded here. Still, it's easy to imagine big November storms flooding over the beach and filling up the coastal wetlands behind the beach. Sit down at the water's edge; even on a calm day, there's enough wind and wave noise to drown out the sound of Highway 61.

This could be your own North Shore destination. Stay across the Highway at the mom-and-pop Flood Bay Motel; you'll appreciate the very affordable rates as well as the location.

When you've had your fill of this little bit of the North Shore, get back in your vehicle. No matter how far you have yet to go on the Shore, you have now arrived.

Detour to Lester Park

Starting June 21 (a few days after Grandmas Marathon; no coincidence), virtually all traffic headed to the North Shore will be detoured at the eastern edge of Duluth. This is not the Megaproject (aka Armageddon) on Duluth's stretch of I-35, but the repair of the historic bridge over the Lester River.

The bridge really is historic: it's on the National Register. The opportunity the detour provides is historic as well.

If you're like 95% of the travelers to the North Shore, you have driven right past Lester Park without knowing it's there. Now's your chance to change that.



Lester Park is the first real North Shore park. It's got the churning waterfalls, it's got the tall white pine trees, it's got lovely trails.



The detour will take you off London Road and on to Superior Street. Follow the detour for about two blocks on Superior Street, and turn left on Lester River Road. The main parking lot for Lester Park is on your left after about 200 yards. Park there and head across the stone foot bridge, which gives you your first view of the Lester River.



Let the kids play at the big playground for a bit and get your bearings. Lester River and Amity Creek join right below the playground. After playing off some steam, take off and explore Amity Creek. A lovely trail goes up one side and back down the other, past some of the largest and most beautiful white pines on the North Shore. Crazy local high school boys might be jumping off the waterfall into what they call "The Deeps."

It's a great bit of Duluth you've driven by a hundred times. This summer is your chance...finally...to explore Lester Park.

Lupines, as predicted

Back in early April, Edwin Way Teale and I predicted that the North Shore lupine would bloom in early June. That was based on the lupines I saw blooming then in Arizona and the way that spring "moves" north.

All the flowers have been off this year, two or three weeks early in some cases due to the warm early spring. So I was only a little surprised to find the lupine in full glory along Highway 61 a few days ago. Between Two Harbors and Gooseberry there are some fine patches of this flower. It's like a bonus fall color season, only in the early summer.

They are definitely blooming earlier than normal. The last week of June is pretty common for the lupine bloom, as I've noted in this blog here and here (for 2009 and 2008). I know this especially because we had lots of fresh North Shore lupines as table decorations at our June 29 wedding.

Way to go, Edwin Way Teale!

May I see your special place?

Last fall I did a program at the Larsmont Cottages about North Shore special places. For a trade-out, management gave me a certificate for "Dinner for Two." It had a March 21, 2010 expiration date. So when did we finally go cash in? March 21, 2010.

It was the sort of dinner we'd never buy for ourselves...salad, appetizer, main course, and dessert. We could order up to $80 of food...but no liquor. Apparently, some beer-swillin' trade-out hard-partying fools had made them change their policy about alcoholic beverages, because drinks were off limits.

The food was very good. I had a big hunk of salmon and Sally had pork tenderloins. There was not just one vegetable, but two, including big green stalks of asparagus. Not to mention the salad. This was dinner that never happens at our house: I couldn't make it this good, and even if I did, the boys wouldn't touch it.



My favorite part of the evening, however, was rolling our post-dessert bods down to check out the lakeshore. There's something so personal about each little stretch of Lake Superior shore. Sure, it's more rocks and more pebble beaches, but each one is different. If we hadn't just eaten there, I wouldn't have been comfortable walking down to "their" shore. But after a trade-out meal, I was practically like family.

Walking to someone's Lake Superior shore is like walking to their shrine. It is their special place.

As you drive up and down Highway 61, you see the fronts of cabins, resorts and large vacation homes. Just like at Larsmont, whenever I visit a landowner or even resort manager, I always want to see their shoreline...and generally they want to show it to me too. It's their own back yard. It's an intimate moment and a glimpse into people's lives. Their own favorite bit of Lake Superior shore is a deep connection for them. I know this from my own experience at my family's place in Little Marais.

As much as I try in my writing and blogging to help people find new special places to explore, the most special place is often the one you can most easily reach.

Grand Portage: "I'd rather be here than anywhere."

Grand Portage National Monument just announced some great news for North Shore explorers. Entrance to the national monument is now free. It wasn't expensive before...$3 per person, $6 per family. Park Superintendent Tim Cochrane said in a news release, " In these tough economic times, it made little sense to charge fees that kept visitors from coming." That gets you into the reconstructed fort and into the cool new heritage center.

So plan this summer to head to the far end of the Minnesota North Shore and experience some history. Haul a pack of furs at the voyageur encampment. Try your hand (or bloody your fingers) at grinding corn. Hike the Grand Portage itself.



And then take the few bucks you would have spent on entry and drop them into the donation box. It's all for a good cause.

The best things in life sometimes really are free.

Good Harbor, Good view, GREAT geology

In a land full of amazing geologic stories, this might be the best and most easily understood geology stop on the entire North Shore of Lake Superior. It's right at the big curve that swoops down about five miles west of Grand Marais, with the new Cutface Creek wayside down below.

I'm sort of colorblind. For decades I've driven by this rock face at Good Harbor. Maybe I was distracted by the big view of the Grand Marais harbor just up the lake, but I never EVER noticed how deep and luscious RED the lower layer of rock was. It's a 120-foot thick layer of sandstone, siltstone and shale, turned red, I assume, by the oxides of the billion-year old rock below it (Law of Superposition: look it up).

Driving there earlier this winter, before the big snows, I had to stop. Perhaps the gray overcast sky made the difference, but that red rock was really red.



Stop by yourself sometime. Read the plaque that explains the formation of the red rock and gray rock. This is may be the coolest, easiest geology spot on the entire North Shore.

The North Shore Billboard War

It's getting ugly out there in billboard land. Are people sick of summer already? My theory is that hospitality workers are taking out their stress on these billboard as they return for one or two more weeks of crazy time.

I-35 is the artery that feeds the North Shore. Every day hundreds or thousands of Twin Citians, starved for blueberry pie, a wild hike, or a view of a distant horizon, head up the Interstate to Lake Superior. A slew of billboards between Forest Lake and Hinckley have been set up to drive those tourists to select destinations.

Those oh-so-clever people in Grand Marais nailed a fake herring gull to their billboard. And "someone" stole the bird. Now they're offering a "reward," with the rather tacky phrase "We just want someone to give us the bird." Do they really want someone to make an obscene gesture in the general direction of the Lake Superior Trading Post?

My theory is that it was one of the hard-working guest workers from Eastern Europe who could just not stand another guest demanding hotel Wi-Fi that reaches to Artists Point.

So what's next?



Will a stressed-out dishwasher from Lutsen steal the caribou statue from Great Lakes Aquarium and jam it splashing into the picture of Caribou Highlands' outdoor pool?



Maybe a Glensheen Mansion summer tour guide will get sick of the Congdon murder questions. I can think of, but would rather not share here, felonious objects that might be added to or stolen from the Glensheen billboard.



Perhaps some lifeguard tired of cleaning bubblegum from the waterslide strainers would appreciate a (removable) moustache on that pony-tail girl at the Edge.

Hang in there, North Shore workers! Kids are back in school and the best few weeks of summer are ahead. Destroying billboards was fun for Edward Abbey, but will not look good on your resume.

Take the Scenic Route!

Fourth of July has come and gone, so summer on the North Shore is in high gear.

To me, one of the main indicators of summer on the shore is the big pick-up truck RV swaying and bouncing along Highway 61 at 45 mph leading a train of 5,6,8,10 cars through the curves. If you're in a hurry to get somewhere, it's frustrating to be caught in the train of cars. Passing on Highway 61 is a risky endeavor at any time.

But, hey, you're on vacation. If you're headed up or down the shore and the traffic is looking heavy, don't stress---relax and take the scenic route!

All along the North Shore, there are secondary roads that parallel Highway 61 and can get you from almost whatever Point A to nearly any Point B you want.



Last week I drove Lake County Road 3 from Two Harbors to Beaver Bay. It's a beautiful stretch of road through a variety of terrain. 30 miles of paved and gravel roads bypass 23 miles of Highway 61. The roadside was littered with wildflowers, from towering cow parsnip to meadow rue to fields full of daisies.

County Road 3 is really easy to find. You turn left (north) just past Bettys Pies and you're on it.

The first 8-10 miles are in lovely agricultural landscapes, with old barns and open fields, dark green ridges of the Superior Hiking Trail in the distance. Stop for pictures, but use caution as the road is narrow.

The middle 8 miles are on gravel and are very wooded. You're on old logging railroad grades here. Scattered through the woods are run-down tarpaper shacks left over from the railroad and logging days. You cross the upper reaches of familiar North Shore rivers, like the Gooseberry and the Split Rock; here they're just gurgling brooks.

The last 7 miles are paved again and bring you back through scenic fields and ridges, like this view near the Silver Bay airport:



One of the best parts of the drive is also one of the hardest to find. About 3.5 miles past the Silver Bay airport, with a hillside full of crushed boulders on the left, the road dips down and back up again. At the top of the far side of the dip, an unmarked clay dirt road turns roughly to the right and leads to a field. Below that field is Glen Avon Falls, a watery playground on the Beaver River.



From Glen Avon Falls, it's 1.2 miles further on County Road 3 to a T-junction with Lax Lake Road. Turn right on Lax Lake Road for the short drive down the hill to Beaver Bay. There, you can get back on the busy highway and continue on your way,

If you drive straight through, this scenic back route takes about an hour to drive. Plus, instead of getting mad at that bouncy, swaying camper, you can get happy about wildflowers, wildlife, and waterfalls.

Fireworks in Tofte...The Big Oops!

Check out this video from YouTube of the fireworks from Tofte on the Fourth of July. Someone recorded the video on their cellphone from about 350 feet away, but couldn't get the audio to work.



Maybe it was in honor of the 10th anniversary of the BWCA Blowdown...the Blow-Down Blow-Up!

Here's another view, with audio, from the KARE-TV website.

Go go Mount Jo

The North Shore is a rugged, scenic place. But along the Minnesota shore, the most rugged and the most scenic part is in Grand Portage and beyond to the Pigeon River. It's the far end of the North Shore, and it's worth the extra hour drive past Grand Marais.

The land and the terrain are stupendous. Even the wayside rests are spectacular. The wayside rest with the best view on the North Shore or even in Minnesota is Mt. Josephine wayside just east of Grand Portage and just west of the Pigeon River. Highway 61 cuts through the massive diabase dike of Mt. Jo and then this amazing view pops out.

To the east (above), there are great views from a pretty good height out over Wauswagoning Bay and the Susie Islands.

To the south (below) are the rugged cliffs of Mt. Josephine itself:



The facilities there are only an outhouse and a Dumpster, which has some sage advice and proscriptions:



Visitor facilities in the Grand Portage/Pigeon River area will be changing over the next few years, as the new visitor center opens at the State Park. I hope this wayside rest will stay open, if only for the views.

Bears and bozos: On the noisy side at Tettegouche

As an author, I really enjoy hearing from readers and getting their feedback about North Shore experiences. Thanks to Linda Borrell, who wrote to me to share some concerns about her campsite at Tettegouche State Park. She stayed in the cart-in campsites in the Lake Superior Campground, which I highly recommend in my presentations. However, she had two problems: noise and bears.



She wrote:

"We just stayed at Cart-in B at Tettegouche, cleaning up after some campers who thought the site was for partying with their alcohol beverages in a secluded area...spent a couple of hours cleaning up after them.....disgusting how some people treat their state parks....Anyway, we found the site to be nice, except for the traffic. It never stopped and the noise was loud usually from 9am-10pm. Don't know if you are going to write an edited or expanded version to your book, but that would be great."

Tettegouche State Park is a wilderness giant, full of remote and beautiful places. The cart-in campground has some lovely campsites right on the Lake Superior shore, with secluded cobblestone beaches and no sound but the crash of waves or the cry of herring gulls. It's more wild and more "North Shore" than the traditional drive-in campground a mile or so inland on the park road. Here's Cart-in E, perched above the mouth of the Baptism River:



However, as Ms. Borrell experienced, some of those cart-in sites can be noisy. Sites A-D are quite near Highway 61. To make matters worse they are tucked into a hill that will reflect the sound of highway traffic back to you, like a natural amphitheater. The very pleasant campsites E-K are on the other side of the hill. I especially recommend site F, J, and K, as they have their own little beaches.

Ms. Borrell elaborated on her story in a second e-mail:

"One thing I forgot to mention....I camped in Cart-in B on Friday by myself, waiting for my two companions to arrive Sat am.... I woke up on Sat at 7am and got out of my tent. Since I was by myself, I stretched and gave a big, loud yawn- only to meet the eyes of a bear, not 15 yards from me.

"I froze, the bear froze and then I ran back to my tent, put my jeans on and headed into Silver Bay for breakfast. (I wasn't about to make bacon and pancakes at the campsite!). At the cafe in Silver Bay, I talked with the police chief, who was also having his breakfast...he told me never to stare at a bear and to make as much noise as possible. He told me to go next door to the hardware store and buy a whistle or bell.

"So I did. It makes for a fun story, but I am dismayed at my reaction when I saw the bear; I did all the wrong things. My clue should have been to pay attention to the bear droppings at the beginning of the cart-in trail!"

Thanks for the feedback, Ms. Borrell. And special extra thanks for cleaning up after the boozy bozos. The grungy campsite actually attracts bears, so you helped to solve a bunch of problems all at once.

Straight across the Heart of Darkness

In Joseph Conrad's great novel, Heart of Darkness, the character Marlow recounts his voyage deep into a dark continent trying to advance French colonial aspirations. The native people help in the carrying of trade goods. And deep in the continent at a colonial station is Kurtz (i.e. Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now), the demigod and the man most deeply transformed by the experience of being in deep.

Yesterday, I drove across the heart of Wisconsin, listening to Conrad's novel on disk. Wisconsin is a deep and strange wilderness to me. I normally stick to my side of the Mississippi and St. Croix rivers. But my family had given me "trade goods," and told me of the "colonial station" to which I was to bring them.

According to Rand McNally, it was quicker to drive straight across Wisconsin from Winona to Duluth than to go through the more familiar Twin Cities I-35 route. I snuck across the mighty Mississippi river at Winona, and drove up through the very scenic Driftless Area on Highway 93. Green Bay Packers logos were scattered here and there. Eau Claire, with its shopping malls and chain stores, was a refuge of civilization, but just north of Eau Claire the land turned truly alien. A highway sign pointed to Green Bay itself. Three times the straight lanes of Highway 53 passed under "County Road Q".

In the Holiday gas station, on a Sunday, they were selling wine. And cheese curds. Bizarre.

Then finally in Rice Lake, a mile off the expressway, I reached the trading station:



Natives in their simple dress of elastic-waist khakis and polo shirts greeted me. Since I carried an empty 11-inch pie tin for trading, they assumed I meant no harm. If they had known that my true loyalties were with the Minnesota Vikings, I might have been buried in lefse or, worse, whipped topping.

I didn't enter Norske Nook far enough to know if Kurtz was there, in a booth in the darkest corner. Or, if not Kurtz, what demigod would Wisconsinites worship? Maybe good old #4?

Minnesota has colonial aspirations on Wisconsin's own demigod, Brett Favre. That makes me murmur, as Kurtz did on his deathbed, "The horror, the horror."

I traded for a Blueberry Crunch pie. It's a huge pie and we're still eating it. And someday I can dig out the empty tin and send it off with someone else on their own journey across the Heart of Darkness.
_______________________

I'm going to get it big time from my wife and mother-in-law, who have real Wisconsin and Scandinavian cred and might find the above post, well, insulting. But I couldn't pass this next bit up. After my journey across Wisconsin with a pie tin for trade goods, I'm waxing philosophic.

Marlow, in Heart of Darkness, on the meaning of life:

"Droll thing, life is, that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself that comes too late. A crop of inextinguishable regrets."

Wisconsin, on the meaning of life:

I hate to admit it, but I really prefer Wisconsin's.

Who's honking now?

I was really heartened to hear all the concern about the Honking Tree. This was a landmark white pine near the Two Harbors end of the expressway. To a lot of people, passing the Honking Tree was like passing a gateway, either to the wild North Shore or to their home town. Some person did a stupid, stupid thing.

For some insight into the mind of this sort of tree killer, read The Golden Spruce, by John Vaillant, about a very troubled guy who cut down a revered and unique spruce tree on, I think, Queen Charlotte Island.

Go another sixty miles up Highway 61, and the roadside trees are falling like dominos:



There's a four or five mile stretch of Highway 61, between Tofte and Lutsen, that's getting The Treatment this summer. The road will be widened, so there are two lanes of travel and wide shoulders on both sides. The Gitchi Gami bike trail will be built alongside. Actually, the road is moving "to the left", and the bike trail will be where the eastbound traffic lane is now.

So it will be safer, especially for bike riders. And a bit less wild. Roads, especially National Scenic Byways like this one, have to balance scenic quality and safety

If one tree falls, we may notice.

If a forest falls, we may not.

North Shore snow: It's waterfall season!

It's waterfall season up the shore. Sally Nankivell at Lutsen Tofte Tourism says, "Thundering waterfalls are rushing with the spring melt." I think she's mixing her metaphors a bit, but the fact is that there are still mounds of snow in the woods and it's melting quickly. The trails in to the falls might be knee-deep in mushy snow, but the sights, sounds and smells are spectacular.

There are waterfalls that are easier to reach without much snowy hiking:

Gooseberry: Middle and Lower Falls
Beaver River
Cross River (the ultimate drive-by waterfalls, right in Schroeder)
Cascade River
Pigeon River (a longer hike, but the trail should be clear)

Get up and go!