Because we are surrounded with snaking mountain ranges — the Cascades and the Olympics, one past time that we do here during summer is hiking. I’ve never relayed tales of my hiking trips mainly because my thought is no one would be interested. A friend of mine suggested that I do otherwise. There’s a subtle hint in her suggestion I think. Something that would do me good in the end.
And so begins my hiking tale:
We begin our journey in the concrete parking lot. Your ears are aware of it, yet your eyes protest, pushing you more to search. Amongst the surrounding guardians of towering fir, maple and other decidous trees, the thunderous roar of the falls grows in the distance, clapping and enticing you to come find it. It is nearby and you know it. You ask yourself, "Where is it?"
Slowly, you walk a few paces — away from the white striped parking space. You look around and you are left to the behest of your ears, its radar navigating and commanding you to focus and listen.
The sound becomes louder than ever before, assuring you that you have gone the right path. Your feet carries you to the corner of the parking lot, where to your right a sloping grassy embankment and a knee-high S metal road fence separates you from the zipping mile per hour vehicles traveling east and west on Highway 2.
One foot over the other, you take a step over a curb, the concrete pavement changing to years of trodden packed dirt and borders of sticks and vegetation. Between groups of wild shrubs and bushes, a slight clearing exposes a flight of compressed gravelly dirt steps, taking you down a steep incline.
Reaching the bottom, what is revealed to you next is something enough to stop your heart — the roaring, breathtaking view of Deception Falls. 
Standing at the edge, Deception’s plume of white cascading water kisses your face with its mist, as it bounces off gargantuan rocks and boulders, coursing its way down river.
Feet away, a small footbridge beckons you to cross. Even though the fall’s tongue laps about inches underneath you as you make your way, cross it, faintest of heart or not. The other side will leave you more surprised and awestruck. 
"Why is it called Deception Falls?" an acquaintance from Ireland once asked me when I took them to see the place. I say it is that…it knows how to deceive whether you are standing in the parking lot or clocking 65 or 70 mph driving down the highway.
Always, there’s a 90 percent chance you may miss it. You’ll only know from your unsuspecting passenger when you hear them say, "Whoa! Did you see that?" as they may happen to glance to their right. You and the rest are left clueless, wondering what beauty that was seen; missing the white, flowing curtain of falls that have cleaved itself between mountains and trees, tucked like an opalescent white kerchief in a stone crevice.
