Swallow Falls State Park

These high Allegheny ridges were long the domain of Native peoples who hunted the forests and traveled the river valleys, among them the Lenape and the Susquehannock, who ranged across the mountains of what is now western Maryland and Pennsylvania. The gorge's rugged terrain made it a place of passage and hunting rather than permanent towns, and its old-growth forest is a rare survivor of the world they knew.

European settlement came late to this remote corner, and when it did, the logging and tanning industries stripped nearly all the surrounding hillsides bare in the late 1800s. The grove at Swallow Falls survived largely by luck and terrain, tucked into a steep, hard-to-reach gorge, and it stands today as a living remnant of the primeval Appalachian forest that once blanketed the region.

The park's trail loop is short but packed with water. Muddy Creek Falls is the showstopper, a wide sheet of water dropping about 53 feet over a rock ledge to make it the tallest waterfall in Maryland, thunderous in spring and encased in ice in the depths of winter. Along the Youghiogheny River, Swallow Falls and Lower Falls churn through a boulder-strewn gorge in a series of drops and rapids.

The rock underfoot is ancient sandstone and shale, carved by the river into ledges, potholes, and overhangs. The trail threads between the water and the cliffs, sometimes right along the riverbank, and the constant sound of moving water fills the gorge. It is a compact hike with an outsized reward, several distinct waterfalls linked in a single easy loop.

The grove of old-growth hemlock and white pine is the soul of Swallow Falls. Some of the trees have stood for centuries, rising in tall, straight columns above a floor of moss, fern, and fallen needles, casting a deep, cool shade even on the hottest summer day. In a state where nearly every acre has been cut over at least once, a genuine old-growth stand is a rarity worth the trip alone.

The hemlocks face a modern threat in the hemlock woolly adelgid, an invasive insect that has killed hemlocks across the eastern mountains, and the park works to protect its ancient trees. Walking among them, in the hush and the green light, is a reminder of how much of this land once looked, and of how little of it remains.

The cool northern forest here holds life more typical of New England than of the Chesapeake lowlands. White-tailed deer, black bear, and wild turkey move through the woods, pileated woodpeckers drum on dead snags, and the river draws songbirds and the occasional flash of a trout in the clear pools. In the hemlock shade, salamanders work the damp leaf litter along the streams.

Spring comes late and loud, with the falls swollen by snowmelt and the forest greening weeks after the lowlands. Summer stays cool and shaded, a mountain refuge from the heat. Fall lights the hardwoods along the ridges in color, and winter locks the gorge in ice, the falls sometimes freezing into pale columns. High and remote, the park rewards travelers willing to reach Maryland's far western edge.

The closest Boutel™ stays, so you can turn this stop into an overnight. Each is an independently owned, editorially selected place to stay.