Wrapped in raw beauty from the first few steps, hikers on Raven Cliffs Falls Trail savor October-red sourwood trees and the rushing white water of Dodd's Creek.

For the most waterfall "wows" per hiking mile, this trail, on the edge of the 9,100-acre Raven Cliffs Wilderness, is impossible to match in all North Georgia. And it's no more than a half-hour from several mountain towns full of fall activities — Helen, Hiawassee and Blairsville. In addition, Unicoi State Park, two miles north of Helen, offers a lodge, restaurant and campsites.

PETER McINTOSH/mcintoshmountains.com (ENLARGE)
Dozens of waterfalls provide gorgeous incentive to hikers along Raven Cliffs Falls Trail.
PETER McINTOSH/mcintoshmountains.com (ENLARGE)
High school English teacher Holli Richey, who studies wild plants as an avocation, enjoys the cascades sluicing along a segment of the trail. Among the flora she spied: pipsissewa, rattlesnake plantain, Solomon's seal and old man's beard.
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Unlike many hikes that lead to a destination river or waterfall, this easy creek-side trail, 2 1/2 miles long, presents stunning vistas all along the way. The dozens of waterfalls leading up to the 80-foot-high falls at Raven Cliffs, the trail's climactic end, are enhanced by this season's abundance of water and sun-dappled tree limbs felled by September storms.

Thanks to the U.S. Forest Service, the popular trail is quite passable, though a downed bridge close to the trail head presents an initial challenge: Wade across the shallow creek, or climb gingerly over the broken bridge and pile of debris? We choose to climb across the debris as the sun hits the trunk of a fallen oak, smooth and shiny from periodic gushes of brush-laden water.

After a dozen waterfalls, I stop counting — distracted by delicate fall wildflowers like the bushy lavender aster and wild hydrangea still wearing its lace caps.

Holli Richey, a Rabun High School English teacher whose avocation is hiking and studying wild plants, points to pipsissewa. A small evergreen shrub with striped leaves, it is sometimes called wintergreen. American Indians used pipsissewa as a medicine for all sorts of stomach and skin ailments, but some herb books say it can cause irritation if rubbed on the skin.

Richey, a University of Georgia graduate, worked during college at Goodness Grows in Lexington just outside Athens, a nursery known for its herbaceous perennials. We spot rattlesnake plantain, a plant with white-veined leaves that sports a tall orchid bloom in spring, and Solomon's seal, its small dark berries tucked underneath arching stems.

Farther up the trail, Richey is ecstatic to discover old man's beard, a fuzzy-looking parasitic plant that grows in the tops of trees. The storm winds have blown bits of it to the ground. A sign of forest health, it grows only where air pollution levels are low. You won't see old man's beard on trees in city parks.

We pass a campsite where campers have left pop cans and vow on our way back to pick them up. (A trash sack tucked in the backpack is an essential, even on a day hike.) Though the Forest Service posts signs urging a "no trace" camping ethic, not all adhere to it.

Seeing such carelessness, Richey bemoans the lack of outdoors education in public schools. When children get to know plants and critters in the woods, they become friends, she says. That's the best way to instill respect for nature.

As the trail narrows, we run into four hikers coming from the opposite direction and stop to chat. Raven Cliffs Falls is their favorite trail, says Linda Morris, of Atlanta. She and husband Charles have been hiking it for 20 years, making it a regular family outing at different seasons when their children were growing up.

This time, they were hiking with friends from Suwanee, Rick and Mary Tallant. The four were spending the weekend in Hiawassee, where they'd heard country singer Patty Loveless the previous night at the Georgia Mountain Fair.

After more give-and-take about favorite hikes, Linda Morris spots my notepad. "Oh no, you're the one telling the world about our special places — now the word will be out," she says.

The Morrises say this well-worn hiking path has remained much the same over two decades despite its popularity.

"Want to share one of our family traditions?" asks Linda, teasing her husband. Charles confesses that he dunks his head in Dodd's Creek each time he hikes it, summer or winter — and he can report that the water is pretty nippy already.

If you didn't know there were waterfalls in the hidden crevice between the giant rocks at the end of the trail, you might miss Raven Cliffs' highest drama. A short climb up a rocky area closer to the cliffs reveals the 80-foot cascading waters that have slowly carved an astonishing vertical sculpture — one destined to become even more spectacular over eons to come.

Watching a family with two young children playing on the rocks below, I recall the words of Benton MacKaye, the forester who first proposed the Appalachian Trail: "Set yourselves to make this scene what it should be in that far year . . . and the years of the earthen ages."

The shadows grow longer on our late-afternoon hike back. Photographer Peter McIntosh suggests we're just in time to catch a sunset on nearby Wildcat Mountain if we hurry.

Five miles north, on the Richard Russell Parkway, we stop at Hogpen Gap, a parking area where the Appalachian Trail crosses the highway. Scrambling up the AT for a steep 15-minute hike, we pause, breathless, at the Whitley Gap sign pointing left.

Just 200 yards away is a rock outcrop where a stunning panorama of deep blue mountains framed in orange awaits. Looking northwest toward the Nottely River watershed from the 3,700-foot ridge, we marvel at the blazing color — streaks of pink, aqua, orange and azure blue.

We relax on a large rock, sharing our backpack appetizers: apples, cheese, crackers and a bottle of wine.

The colors intensify by the minute: pink to purple, orange to red, red to deep garnet. They can't be fully captured even by fine photography. The fleeting sunset is seared in our memory as we grab our flashlights for the moonlit 15-minute hike down the ridge.

We pop a Louis Armstrong CD in the car stereo and drive home to the perfect lyrics: "And I say to myself, what a wonderful world."

RAVEN CLIFFS FALLS TRAIL