In Greek mythology, Arethusa was a virgin water nymph and close friend of the goddess Artemis. Smitten by her loveliness, the river god Alpheus aggressively pursued Arethusa, but Arethusa had no interest in him. To help her friend evade Alpheus’ advances, Artemis turned Arethusa into a spring so she could escape into the earth, but Alpheus persevered, eventually diluting his river water with her spring water underground. The story of Arethusa and Alpheus is a mythological nod to both the connectivity of waterways and the preciousness of pure spring water.

In 1875, when Edward Tuckerman discovered Arethusa Falls in Crawford Notch, he named this magnificent 160-foot waterfall, the tallest in New Hampshire, after the mythological nymph due to its mesmerizing beauty. However, unlike the nymph, Arethusa Falls appears to cascade down to earth out of the sky rather than disappearing into it.

The hike to Arethusa Falls is one of my favorites in the White Mountains, especially when paired with Frankenstein Cliff as a loop. Last July, I had the chance to enjoy this 4.8-miler with my longtime hiking buddy Cindy Berlack. Like Artemis and Arethusa, we’ve always loved roaming through the woods with each other, but our busy lives rarely afforded us the chance to explore a trail together anymore. The Arethusa Falls–Frankenstein Cliff Loop was the perfect route, 4.8 miles with a 1,500-foot vertical gain, enough to get some exercise with the chance to take a dip in a backcountry pool along the way. And though we would not reach the top of a 4,000-footer, we would get expansive views of them.

That said, the first view was of Frankenstein Cliff from the parking lot, a 1,000-foot wall of granite. The thought of standing atop that impressive promontory was as much a motivator as splashing around the base of Arethusa Falls. Cindy and I shouldered our packs and eagerly headed up a short access road and across the tracks of the former Maine Central Railroad. Today the tracks are still active, but used by the Conway Scenic Railroad, a tourist attraction that runs between North Conway and Crawford Notch. 

Hiking to Arethusa Falls

The author stands atop Frankenstein Cliff.

After crossing the tracks, we entered the woods on the Arethusa Falls Trail, a wide, obvious path. About a quarter mile up the path, we could see Bemis Brook meandering below us. It hadn’t rained in a while, which had greatly tamed this oft roiling creek, the headwaters of which spill down Arethusa Falls.

Just beyond, we came to the junction with the Bemis Brook Trail, a divergence that takes hikers past several pools and small cascades before rejoining the main trail a quarter mile farther up the path. We opted to stay on the direct route to save a few steps.

Shortly after the Bemis Brook Trail merged back into the Arethusa Falls Trail, the path bent sharply up some rock steps. The hardwoods morphed into spruce and birch, and the brook quickly became far below us down a steep hillside.

After crossing a couple of small streams, we climbed more steps, this time made of logs, then traversed a couple of footbridges. The next set of log steps wound upward to a small knoll and another trail junction, this time with the Arethusa–Ripley Falls Trail, the trail to our first goal: the falls.

Now 1.3 miles into our hike and feeling hot and sweaty after a steady uphill climb, we welcomed the quarter mile down to the falls. The white veil of water drew me to it. I scrambled over the rocks at its base to get closer, taking photos. The waterfall fell like the silky tresses of Arethusa’s hair down the rock face above us. Though the waterfall can be a raging torrent after a heavy downpour as if trying to wash Alpheus away, on that day, it was gentle and inviting. Other hikers sought its spray. I found a smooth-topped rock and happily became absorbed by both the sight and sound of this natural landmark as I ate a snack from my pack.

Where was Cindy? I looked around for my friend. “That’s odd,” I thought. “We arrived at the falls together. Didn’t she head toward the water with me?” Then I spotted her hiking boots and socks on a rock about 40 feet away. Cindy had stripped down to a bathing suit that she wore under her hiking shorts and shirt. She basked in the sun, floating in the water as it churned by her like a natural hot tub, except the water was freezing! Laughing and invigorated, Cindy eventually made her way onto drier, higher rocks and toweled off with a bandana.

On to Frankenstein Cliff

From Arethusa Falls, we headed uphill, back to the last trail junction, and then continued toward Frankenstein Cliff. The trail became noticeably rougher and narrower as we climbed, but the periodic views through the trees of Mount Crawford, Mount Resolution, and Stairs Mountain on the opposite side of Crawford Notch distracted us from the ascent.

About 2.6 miles into our hike, we came to the Frankenstein Cliff Trail, which we followed, now traversing through the forest. A short while later, we walked over a patch of open rock slab called the Mount Washington Dry River Outlook. From the outlook, we ogled a commanding view to the northeast of Mount Washington. We were atop part of Frankenstein Cliff, which we followed a safe distance back from the edge behind a buffer of charred trees. The burned area surprised me. I had forgotten about the wildfire that torched 106 acres of Crawford Notch in May 2022 and didn’t realize it included Frankenstein Cliff.

The trail passed several more breaks in the trees that allowed us to look at the elongated cliff bands both ahead of and behind us. At 3.4 miles, we finally stood atop of the highest point of Frankenstein Cliff and could see the parking lot, a long way below us. We could also see down Crawford Notch all the way to Mount Chocorua, almost 40 miles away. The expansive
panorama and the dizzying drop awed
and uplifted us.

On Frankenstein Trestle

Frankenstein Cliff is a monster of a cliff, but it is not named after the infamous doctor of the same name and his monster. It is named for the artist, Godfrey Frankenstein, a German artist who immigrated to the United States as a boy in 1831 and settled in Ohio. Frankenstein traveled several times to New Hampshire’s White Mountains, where he stayed with his friend Samuel Bemis. Bemis owned most of Crawford Notch at the time and named the cliffs after Frankenstein. When the railroad through Crawford Notch was completed in 1975, two years after Frankenstein’s death, an elevated arcing trestle was also named for the artist.

The descent from Frankenstein Cliff was steep, ledge-y, and more challenging than the well-constructed trail to Arethusa Falls. In places, we balanced in a controlled slide down rolling gravel, but the trail eventually leveled off and traversed through airy hardwoods as we passed under Frankenstein Trestle. The trestle was yet another interesting point on this multifaceted hike.

We crossed one last stream and then closed the loop back at the parking lot at the base of the cliff. Upon emerging onto the parking lot, we looked up at the imposing rock edifice. How surreal that we had stood atop that striking precipice a half hour earlier.

The name Arethusa is derived from the Greek verb theo, meaning to run or hurry. The hike to Arethusa Falls and Frankenstein Cliff is worth hurrying to. But don’t rush once you’re there. With Bemis Brook, the falls, the cliffs, and the trestle punctuating this scenic loop, there’s simply too much to take in. It’s a perfect way to spend a day in the Whites. 

FOR MORE INFO

Hiking the White Mountains, 2nd Edition
by Lisa Ballard and James Buchanan
(FalconGuides, 2020).

The Macomber Family Information Center, located in the historic train depot at the top of Crawford Notch, has an information desk and sells hiking supplies and guidebooks.