Avoid danger while enjoying the river and falls
A group of teens from Westchester County, N.Y., traveled to Falls Village to leap from the cliffs above the Great Falls. Photo by Hunter O. Lyle

Avoid danger while enjoying the river and falls

AMESVILLE — When the water level on the Housatonic River is low between the Great Falls and the First Light power station in Falls Village, I like to fish this angling no-man’s land. It’s mostly small-mouth bass and panfish, but sometimes there’s a pike, or a brown trout with a poor sense of direction, or a giant carp on the other end of the line. You just never know.

But I do know one thing: The falls area is extremely dangerous.

Walking around on slick rock formations in sneakers or rubber soled boots is like tap-dancing with roller skates on a bed of ball bearings dipped in snot. 

Doing so with your friends, your dog, your gas grill, your bag of food and your cooler of refreshing beverages while staring at your hand computer in order to post photos on Instagram is just plain reckless.

Over the last couple of weeks I have noticed increased use of the falls area. This is not in itself a bad thing. 

But when it is accompanied by copious amounts of trash, I get annoyed. 

When people are using surfcasting rods and 60 pound mono (suitable for sharks) to catch 8 ounce panfish — and leaving great wads of line on the rocks for wildlife to choke on and get tangled in — I get incensed.

And when I see people dancing around on the falls, taking selfies and stumbling because they are wearing basketball sneakers on slick rocks, I get alarmed.

Because if they fall, it’s going to take a little while to get help.

In the last two weeks, I have been asked by out-of-towners about hiking the falls. 

The first question came from  a woman with a dog, in a car with New York plates. I articulated my concerns to her, briefly and undramatically, and suggested she take the pooch for a ramble on the forest trail that runs along the Falls Village side of the river. She agreed.

Two young women, clearly in good shape, from a car with Connecticut plates, asked about hiking in to eat their lunch. I told them how to get safely to the big pool at the top of the falls and cautioned against going too far from the bank in their sneakers. They followed my advice. 

But while they relaxed on the bank, and I gingerly made my way to my fishing spot, no less than three separate groups of people were up on top of the falls, with the ubiquitous camera phones. One of them backed up, backed up, backed up. I put my rod down and took off my sling pack, thinking I might have to take action.

The individual stumbled, then regained footing and only then turned around and saw the problem.

A third group, at the bottom of the falls, asked if there was a trail and without stopping to listen to my reply, started trying to get up the steeply angled and slippery rocks. They had two dogs and picnic supplies. They were wearing sneakers. They finally worked out how to get past the immediate obstacle and proceeded. I don’t know how they made out.

I’m not trying to be a killjoy here. I’m as anxious to get out of the house after this lockdown — which, incidentally, hasn’t been officially lifted yet — as anyone.

But people need to know that the Great Falls is not a casual stroll. 

The Lakeville Journal’s Hunter Lyle spotted a group of young people jumping off the falls last week. 

If you’re wondering why I view this with concern, take a look at the big pool at the top of the falls. Notice the large jagged rocks and tree limbs, and ask yourself, do I want to jump into that from a height?

People get badly injured at the falls. People drown at the falls, here and in Kent, at an average rate of one every two years, but sometimes more often. 

Why? Because they underestimate the danger. 

It is not a well-maintained park with lifeguards and rangers ready to assist.

It is not the backdrop for a terrific selfie.

It is not the site for a casual jaunt.

It is a wild, unpredictable and dangerous place.

I wear felt-soled wading boots with studs in them for extra traction. I carry a wading stick — essentially a third leg. I carry a basic first aid kit. And I know the area.

The young men who piled out of a car with New Jersey plates and charged down the trail the other day had none of that going for them. They had sneakers and a 12-pack of beer.

I don’t like the odds.

Finally, consider that cell phone coverage is, at best, spotty in our neck of the woods. And our first responders are mostly volunteers. 

If someone gets hurt, it will take some time to get help.

There are better, safer alternatives for getting some fresh air. Maybe they are not as dramatic as the Great Falls. 

But after the events of the last three months, do you really want more drama?

Related Articles Around the Web

Latest News

Employment Opportunities

LJMN Media, publisher of The Lakeville Journal (first published in 1897) and The Millerton News (first published in 1932), is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit news organization.

We seek to help readers make more informed decisions through comprehensive news coverage of communities in Northwest Connecticut and Eastern Dutchess County in New York.

Keep ReadingShow less
Selectmen suspend town clerk’s salary during absence

North Canaan Town Hall

Photo by Riley Klein

NORTH CANAAN — “If you’re not coming to work, why would you get paid?”

Selectman Craig Whiting asked his fellow selectmen this pointed question during a special meeting of the Board on March 12 discussing Town Clerk Jean Jacquier, who has been absent from work for more than a month. She was not present at the meeting.

Keep ReadingShow less
Dan Howe’s time machine
Dan Howe at the Kearcher-Monsell Gallery at Housatonic Valley Regional High School.
Natalia Zukerman

“Every picture begins with just a collection of good shapes,” said painter and illustrator Dan Howe, standing amid his paintings and drawings at the Kearcher-Monsell Gallery at Housatonic Valley Regional High School. The exhibit, which opened on Friday, March 7, and runs through April 10, spans decades and influences, from magazine illustration to portrait commissions to imagined worlds pulled from childhood nostalgia. The works — some luminous and grand, others intimate and quiet — show an artist whose technique is steeped in history, but whose sensibility is wholly his own.

Born in Madison, Wisconsin, and trained at the American Academy of Art in Chicago, Howe’s artistic foundation was built on rigorous, old-school principles. “Back then, art school was like boot camp,” he recalled. “You took figure drawing five days a week, three hours a day. They tried to weed people out, but it was good training.” That discipline led him to study under Tom Lovell, a renowned illustrator from the golden age of magazine art. “Lovell always said, ‘No amount of detail can save a picture that’s commonplace in design.’”

Keep ReadingShow less