Winter Magic in Cuyahoga Valley: Hiking to Blue Hen & Buttermilk Falls When They Freeze

In winter, Blue Hen Falls and Buttermilk Falls offer two of the most rewarding cold-weather hiking destinations in Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Reached via the Buckeye Trail, Blue Hen Falls transforms into a striking scene of ice formations, frozen cascades, and snow-dusted sandstone cliffs, making it one of the most photographed CVNP winter waterfalls. Adventurous hikers can continue beyond Blue Hen Falls and carefully navigate off-trail to Buttermilk Falls, a more secluded waterfall that truly shines in freezing temperatures. In winter, Buttermilk Falls often becomes a dramatic curtain of ice spilling down the ravine, rewarding those willing to walk just a bit further.

Trailhead elevation 650'

Water seasonal from Spring Creek or year round at the Boston Mill Visitor Center

Don't miss bringing microspikes to climb behind Blue Hen Falls

Hiking to Blue Hen Falls & Buttermilk Falls

As the snow begins to melt following the coldest three-week stretch Northeast Ohio has seen in nearly five decades, I pull into the Boston Mill Visitor Center in Cuyahoga Valley National Park. I stop inside to chat with a ranger about a few lesser-known waterfalls not marked on official park maps, then head out on the blue-blazed Buckeye Trail for a winter hike to Blue Hen & Buttermilk Falls. The stone staircase at the start of the trail is as slick as I’ve ever encountered, and in true fashion, I slip and fall before I’ve even gained much elevation.

The hike to Blue Hen Falls isn’t the most scenic in CVNP. There are no sweeping views, and the hum of traffic from nearby I-271 fills the air for much of the hike. After a heavy snowfall, however, the staircases about a third of the way to the Blue Hen transform into icy slides. After descending the first set of stairs—and falling twice more—I abandon any sense of dignity and ride the rest of the way down on my rear end.

At the bottom, a narrow footbridge crosses an unnamed stream before the trail climbs out of the ravine and briefly follows Boston Mills Road. Once back in the forest, I slip and fall yet again—completely normal for me. A short distance later, another footbridge spans Spring Creek, the stream that feeds Blue Hen Falls. Less than 100 yards beyond the footbridge, I’m standing above the falls.

A slick descent brings me down to the base of the falls, where I snap a few photos of the frozen 15-foot waterfall—and fall again. Not my day. Blue Hen Falls is stunning in winter, but the thick ice surrounding it makes climbing behind the falls nearly impossible without microspikes.

I stick around for a bit, chatting with a gal from North Carolina who’s visiting family in the area. She shares tips for an upcoming trip to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and I return the favor with recommendations for lesser-known CVNP waterfalls. From there, I set my sights on Buttermilk Falls.

There are two ways to reach Buttermilk Falls in winter. The first is an unofficial footpath that begins beyond a sign reading “End of Trail,” above the falls.

The second—and more scenic—option is to simply follow the frozen creek downstream to the top of the falls. This route requires navigating around and under several fallen trees, but after recent trips to Twin Sister Falls, Contour Falls, Raccoon & Romane Falls, and Crazy Man's Hollow Falls, I'm game.

After roughly half a mile of creek walking, I reach the top of Buttermilk Falls and find massive clusters of icicles clinging to the west wall of the gorge.

I walk to the crest of the falls and look over. From past trips to Buttermilk, it doesn't look that steep from below, but up here it looks much different.

Another careful (and slippery) descent brings me to the base of the falls, where I stop to take in the scenery. Buttermilk Falls drops roughly 30 feet over layered shale and rock along Spring Creek, forming what looks like a massive frozen slide. Towering hemlocks frame the falls to the south, while huge icicles hang from the gorge’s northern wall. Photos don’t do it justice—this is winter hiking in Cuyahoga Valley National Park at its absolute best.

I spend about thirty minutes enjoying the solitude before retracing my steps along the creek back toward Blue Hen Falls. With the light now changed, I snap a few more photos before returning to the trailhead. Four slips and falls, a handful of Smoky Mountains tips, and two frozen waterfalls later, I’m back in the car—heading out to Brandywine Falls to see what winter has done there.