These majestic Tahoe waterfalls won't last much longer. Hike to them while they're still going.

But places like Shirley Canyon are getting so popular, it’s easy to see how they’re getting loved to death. When I drove up to the trailhead a couple weeks ago, the parking area was a traffic jam. Cars were lined up alongside the road, one after another. Other cars were idling, waiting for a spot to open up. Many drivers simply ignored the “no parking” signs and pulled up on illegal parking spots. 

And honestly, none of this surprised me. Tourism in Tahoe has well exceeded parking capacity at small trailheads like this one, and people tend to follow the crowd, even if they’re acting as if they’re above the rules.

My husband and I got lucky. We found a legal and legit parking spot close to the trailhead, but then I opened the car door and I nearly stepped onto a green bag full of dog poop that had been abandoned on the side of the road in the dirt. Abandoned dog poop bags are almost as common as crowded parking lots at trailheads. And I ask myself — do people actually think someone is going to pick up their dog poop bags? Or are they just forgetful? Or is this something worse? 

Then my eyes adjusted next to a dirty mask and a neon plastic chip bag in the bushes.

These days, Shirley Canyon is one of the most well-known hikes in Lake Tahoe, but it wasn’t always that way. There was a time when you could easily have these waterfalls all to yourself, even on a hot summer afternoon. When I was a kid — so a few decades ago — my mom would take me and my siblings here to go swimming in the pools, and we’d hardly see another hiker for hours. Truth be told, I think those moments still exist if you get up early enough, or go hiking mid-week, or when it’s snowing. 

But you have to work a lot harder to have places as well-known as Shirley Canyon all to yourself.

I admit, I did not pick up the green bag full of dog poop. But I did pick up an unused pet baggy that was also left in the dirt and tied it on to my dog’s leash to put it to better use later. I put on sunscreen, tied up my shoelaces and set off on the trail, bound for waterfalls and happier thoughts.

The trail is at the back end of Olympic Valley, just behind Squaw Valley Ski Resort. (Last year, the ski resort committed to removing the racist slur in its name in 2021, but it has yet to announce a new name.) 

As Shirley Creek spills down thousands of feet of elevation, the trail hikes upward for about 4 miles into the canyon. The farther along you go, the harder the hike gets. The first half is really where most of the waterfalls are. The second half gets steep and scrambly as you navigate rock slabs and manzanita bushes. If I’m honest, I’ll tell you that I rarely do this hike for the second half. I am here for the waterfalls.

I could hear the sound of rushing water just a few steps onto the trail. Even with so many people around, it’s still easy enough to tap into that forest bathing mode, when the modern, developed world gives way to trees, dirt and fresh air. We all need more of this.

Shirley Canyon is a choose-your-own-adventure type of hike. Beginners might find themselves on a sunny boulder surrounded by rushing water and decide to settle in for a picnic. More experienced hikers can take the trail all the way to the top, to the headwaters of the creek and the upper elevations of the ski resort. You can also take a shortcut back down if you time your hike right and catch the area tram back to the parking lot.

Because of the high trail use, erosion has all but erased the trail in some places. In other spots, multiple paths lead up the boulders and rocks alongside the waterfall. I spotted blue paint marking the way up and did my best to follow the trail. But a good rule of thumb is to just keep the waterfalls on your right. You’ll find your way eventually. 

Sometimes you do a hike so often you forget how incredible it is. 

This dawned on me when I felt the familiarity of the trail, which has many memories all along the way. I recognize the waterfall I used to swim under, and the rocks we used to picnic at. I remember playing a game where I could only step on rocks. Muscle memory kicked in as I hopped from one rock to another. Even after all these years, the waterfalls still inspire me to stop and take a photo.

The first set of waterfalls are more like water slides, with clear water rushing over golden boulders. On a hot day, bring a bathing suit so you can sit here and let the water cool you down. 

A little higher up, waterfalls spill into knee-deep pools. When the flow of the creek diminishes, these pools turn into wonderful little swimming holes. 

I followed the creek up a canyon, going from one waterfall to the next. The scenery is every bit as idyllic as it sounds. 

As a writer, I often get asked about the ethics of sharing a place like this with so many people. I grew up in Tahoe. I’ve seen this place change as much as anyone. But here’s my honest opinion: Even though places like this are clearly impacted by overuse, it’s not up to me to decide who gets to experience them. Keeping places like Shirley Canyon a secret is a form of gatekeeping. 

Instead, let’s talk honestly about the impacts of littering, of illegal parking, so we can love these places and preserve them. I believe in the power of nature to inspire all of us to take better care of our home planet. 

On the trail, I crossed paths with many different kinds of people. Young and old. Tourists and locals. Some wore yoga pants. Others wore jeans. Some had that tired look on their faces, indicating a solid day’s hike as they made their way back down the trail. 

After those first waterfalls, I found myself on a mellower section of trail, shaded by giant trees. Sunshine washed over flat boulders next to the creek. And I saw families sit down to have lunch or just get some mountain rays of sun. Kids swam. Others walked by quietly. 

I kept going. The biggest waterfall was still ahead. 

I knew I was close when I crossed the stream and the slope steepened. Then I heard a roar echo through a narrow slot in the canyon. Here, the creek dives down a steep ravine as the trail climbs up higher and higher. It’s easy to lose your footing here, so I treaded carefully to get a good view of the waterfall. It mesmerized me. And my eyes flickered up and down, following the water as it was suspended mid-air. 

After a while, we turned around to head back down the canyon. About halfway down, I hopped down a couple rocks to a bend in the creek, where I saw a flat boulder. This tiny little corner was empty. It was quiet. It was just me. I sat down for my own picnic, and all was right in the world.