THIS MORNING WE ALL PILE into Mary and Lou's car and drive across the Rainbow Bridge to the United States side of the falls. Here the experience is very different than it is in Canada. The city of Niagara Falls, New York, at least the area around the bridge and the entrance to Niagara Falls State Park, appears to have seen better times. Much better. And probably a long time ago. The area is pretty seedy now. Of course, that shouldn't come as much of a surprise for those of us familiar with Philadelphia. Only a few blocks from the Liberty Bell and the birthplace of our nation there are areas you wouldn't want to walk through in broad daylight.

The American Niagara Falls is a different experience as well, but not at all unpleasant. With the exception of the Maid of the Mist observation tower and the Top of the Falls Restaurant, nothing here is modern and very little looks man-made. Many of the buildings date from the early part of the twentieth century, and were made to look old and Victorian even then (we've noticed that American park building designers seem to strive to achieve that "look"). Most of the park is centered around Goat Island (the large island which separates the American Falls from Canada's Horseshoe Falls) and several small satellite islands connected to it by footbridges. This is a world of walking paths and places where you can actually wade out into the river. It's so "natural" it almost seems dangerous, in a way.  There are no steel fences or other barriers to prevent you from getting into deadly trouble. But it's also refreshing to visit a park where you aren't forced into a narrowly-defined area. I guess the fact that we never hear of visitors being swept away and over the falls is proof enough that people can behave sanely after all. Still, if you have children who are difficult to control, this might not be the best place to take them.

Historically, Father Louis Hennepin, a French missionary explorer, is generally given credit for being the first European to see the falls. We have no way of knowing what might have been passing through Father Hennepin's mind as he gazed upon this natural wonder. But, according to information from New York State's Delaware North Park Services, what is known are his greatly exaggerated reports on what he saw. For example, he claimed that the vertical drop of the American Falls measured 1,000 feet, which would be pretty darned astounding, considering how impressive the actual 182 feet drop really is. It's understandable that subsequent visitors, lured by Father Hennepin's information, may have felt slightly let down.

OF COURSE, FATHER HENNEPIN didn't really discover the falls. The natives of the area were very familiar with the Home of the Thunder Gods for generations before. There are numerous folk tales, among which the most colorful and well-known is the legend of the Maid of the Mist. The story tells of a time of great hardship and drought, when various sacrifices were offered to the thunder gods by sending them over the falls in canoes. The ill-fortune didn't abate, though, and finally in desperation, the chief offered his lovely young daughter (have you noticed that these romantic legends never seem to mention what the princess might have thought of this idea). As her canoe went over the brink, she literally dropped into the arms of one of the Great Thunder God's sons, who immediately fell in love with her. She agreed to remain with him forever (a wise choice) and the happy Thunder God family celebrated by ending the tribe's suffering. The Maid of the Mist is said to still live in the midst of the falls.

The Maid of the Mist has also lent her name to one of the most exciting tourist attractions ever. Although a row boat ferry service was operating here as early as 1818, it was in 1846 that the first Maid of the Mist  cruise boat was launched. It was a coal-fired, wooden-hulled steamboat. Today there are four boats, diesel-powered and all-steel. Over the years, presidents, kings and queens, film stars, and countless other tourists have taken the world-famous cruise upriver to the base of the  Horseshoe Falls and back. It's one of the oldest tourist attractions in North America. Unlike the Spanish Aero car, this is no quite, scenic river cruise. This is a ride (maybe one of the few left in the world) that actually takes you along as a boat captain pits his skill and his boat's strength against a natural adversary. The fact that none of the Maids has ever been lost does nothing to detract from the thrill of the adventure. This is a real waterfall, and those are real currents, and there's a big difference between this and even the scariest ride at Disney World,

The boats leave out of two locations, one in Canada, at the base of the cliff across the street from Victoria Park, and the other here at the base of the Prospect Point Observation Tower. We get to put on the same plastic bag material as we had yesterday, only they're blue this time. Linda and I don't remember the rain gear being this flimsy a dozen years ago, but that was before the current environmental (and health) concerns. These are made to be worn-once-and-discarded, and are biodegradable. We were lucky enough to just miss one boat, so that put us at the front of the line for the next one. Upon boarding, we head directly for the bow of the boat, definitely the choice location for this adventure. As we get underway, the breeze makes our plastic sheeting billow out as though we're all big blue bubbles, making photography nearly impossible.

The little boat chugs out from the dock and heads off toward the base of the falls. That's the Horseshoe Falls; the boat cuts a wide arc around the treacherous, rock-strewn base of the American falls. Along the way we mentally adopt pet seagulls (rivergulls?) from among the wide selection offered for our viewing pleasure. The big diesel engine throbs. My, it sure seems like an awfully powerful boat for just this little excursion...

Before long, we begin to understand why. As we get closer to the base of the falls, the waves begin to get much higher. They march off in different directions from one another, and the swirling water causes the boat to jerk to and fro as the captain steers through them. The visibility begins to get shorter through the fog. The seagulls have left us now. A few minutes further in, and the fog is thickening into a hard, steady rainfall. It's difficult to see how this can be called "mist" any longer. Actually, it's difficult to see anything at all. The boat's engine is now screaming against the swirling currents and we're being hit by waves coming at us from all directions at once. You can't see anything in front of you -- it's as though someone in front of the boat has a fire hose turned directly on your face. Looking down at the water, it doesn't appear that we are moving at all. And now the thought occurs, "Oh no! This boat isn't struggling to push us farther INTO the base; we're already there. It's struggling with all its might to try and get us OUT!".

After what seems to be too long a time for comfort, the boat's movement starts to increase. The deluge they call "mist" begins to abate somewhat, and the boat's engine relaxes a little. Soon we're back out of the flood, and our seagulls return to see how we made out (and whether we've brought them any fish). By the time we get back to the dock, we've stripped off the plastic and are letting our soaked clothing dry in the breeze. The whole trip took about half an hour, and it's easily one of the best tourist adventures ever. Comparable to a good roller coaster ride, but a lot longer. Even if you choose not to do anything else at Niagara Falls, don't you dare miss the Maid of the Mist.

The Prospect Point Observation Tower (which is where the Maid of the Mist dock is located) is on the mainland on north side of the American Falls, not on Goat Island itself. To get to the rest of the park, we drive across the short Niagara Rapids Bridge to the island and park at a lot at the upstream end. From here, we can take an open-car shuttle (the "View-mobile") to all parts of the island. Our first stop is at another well-known attraction, the Cave of the Winds. Like most Niagara Falls attractions, this is a walk that leads to vantage points right up close to the falls, in this case the American Falls. We arrive at the staging area and pick up our raincoats. This time, instead of the flimsy plastic throwaways, we're given the old-style, reusable, full length raincoats we remember from before, bright yellow and made of heavy-gauge rubberized material. On this tour, we are also provided with special "footwear". After placing our shoes and socks into bags for storage, we slip our feet into what can only be described as "felt booties", designed to provide better traction on the soaked wooden walkways we will be encountering.

So, here we are, looking as silly as you might imagine a group of people in yellow rubber bathrobes and house slippers might look, standing in line in the hot July sun.

And a long line it is, too.

And it isn't moving.

And after awhile, it becomes clear just why it isn't moving. It seems the ancient double elevators that take visitors to the base of the falls is broken. Not both of them, thank goodness, just one. But that means there's only one elevator to bring people down and to bring them back up again. And if that one breaks, too...

So the maintenance folks are calling all over the county to see if they can get a replacement for the broken part, and in the meantime, everyone is waiting while the line ever so slowly creeps forward. By the time we finally get to the elevator doors we all feel as if we've known our line-neighbors since early childhood.

Leaving the elevators, we're free to walk out along a series of boardwalks leading around the base of Bridal Veil Fall. This is a narrow fall, separated from the main American Falls by Luna Island, on the north edge of Goat Island. It looks like the train of a bride's veil, or at least it does from a distance. From here it looks more like a violent torrent of water, thundering from 180 feet above us to the rocks at our feet. Although the Cave of the Winds tour once actually included the Cave of the Winds, that's no longer the case. Discovered in 1834 by Joseph Wentworth Ingraham, the Cave of the Winds was originally known as Ingraham's Cave. Ingraham insisted on calling it the Cave of the Winds, however, after an ancient cave in Greek mythology. For many years now, the danger of rockfalls has been too great to allow public entrance to the cave, so it's not actually a part of the tour which bears its name.

The wooden walkways and stairs lead us up, over, and around the base rocks until we reach what is called the Hurricane Deck. Here the wind that whips the spray into our faces is being driven by the tons of water rushing by us, and the point at which all that falling water actually crashes upon the rocks is only maybe twenty feet from where we stand.

Like the other Niagara Falls tours, this one doesn't have a guide or a schedule and we're free to spend as long as we like and to dally at any point. I really appreciate that. Besides the falls, there are lots of other interesting details, if you take the time to notice them. For example, the way the water trickles through the rocks along the edges of the falls. The water has been trickling gently here for centuries, and there are whole societies of flowers and plants and bugs living here, just a few feet from the torrential violence, who think this is the only world there is. It kinda makes you wonder a little about our own situation, doesn't it? I linger a bit and think about this, then catch up with the others.

For some reason (I don't think they've repaired the other elevator yet) getting back up doesn't take anywhere near as long as getting down was. In seemingly no time at all, we're sitting in the staging area, struggling to pull our socks up over our soaking wet feet. Then we catch the View-mobile to the Three Sisters Islands, where we can wander along trails that lead to vantage points. Goat Island separates the Niagara River, with the northern side going over the American Falls and the southern part (which is the side the Three Sister islands are on) destined to fall into the abyss at the foot of the Canadian Horseshoe. A very good place to see the American edge of the Horseshoe Falls is at Terrapin Point, our next View-mobile destination. The original Terrapin point, named for the turtles that once sunned themselves on the rocks here, was too unstable to allow for visitors to get near the edge, but in 1983, after yet another rockslide, it was dynamited and the remaining area made safe for tourists who can now stand only a few yards from the brink and watch the water surge over.

The park operates a restaurant here, the Top of the Falls, and we stop for lunch. While we were down at the base of the falls, it seemed as though the sky was clouding up, but it was hard to be sure, on account of the mist from the falls themselves. When we got back up to Goat Island we could see that it was indeed becoming overcast. By the time we finish lunch the clouds are thickening and it 's beginning to look more than a little like rain. Lou and I walk down the hill to stand at the edge of Terrapin Point while the females look in the souvenir shop. On our way we pass a wedding taking place on the lawn. Other visitors also look as if they might be dressed a little more formally than would be expected for sightseeing. This seems to be a popular place for weddings.

Well, any more weddings being held today had better hurry up, because the sky is beginning to get a lot darker. In fact, there are some ominous-looking, almost black clouds to the south of us with lightning flashes in them. The timing is right for us, though. We've seen all we want to at this point and we're quite happy leaving now. We drive back over the bridge to the Canadian side and do a little shopping before dinner. The thunderstorm is now reaching where we are, and it's an impressive one, indeed. As we drive toward Clifton Hill, the sky blackens severely and the wind begins to pick up and blow really hard. Visions of flying cows and witches on bicycles are running though my head, and I have a barely controllable urge to panic and run around looking for my little dog Toto. We had all wanted to see the Niagara movie at the IMAX theater and this seems like great time to do it. The movie lasts about an hour and a half and we figure the storm will be over by then. So we head directly for the IMAX.

Well, we were right, but we were wrong, but we were right, sort of. We arrive at the IMAX and, after rushing across the parking lot under rainfall not a whole lot lighter than the waterfall spray, we learn that we are right in time for the next show. Unfortunately, the next show happens to be the only one of the day which is done entirely in French (no English, no sub-titles). Okay, so now we're all wet, tired, hungry, irritable, and frustrated, and we're not readily agreeing on what our best course of action should be. Ideas range from "Let's just watch it in French", to "Let's wait an hour and a half for the next showing", to "Let's just go back to the hotel and forget about the whole thing", to "Why don't you just jump in the lake and I'll go move to another state, change my name, and forget I ever knew you!". Civility prevails, however, and we decide not to tear each other's eyeballs out and just wait here until the next performance. That turns out to be a wise choice, because (1) a quick glance at the weather outside is a convincing argument for not going back out there, and (2) the IMAX theater is also home to the Niagara Daredevil Museum. Wandering among the many exhibits of daredevil stories and paraphernalia is so fascinating that we barely have time to see everything before lining up for the show.

And, an hour and a half later when the movie is over,  we see that the storm has just barely ended, with the last remnants of light drizzle still falling as we leave the theater.

As nice as the Sheraton Fallsview Dining Room is, we all agree wholeheartedly that we don't want to eat there again tonight. There are dozens of fine restaurants in the Niagara Falls area, and we are choosing from the tourist books. Since Mary and Lou hadn't had a chance to see the Lundy's Lane section yet, we decide on a restaurant out that direction and go looking for it. We don't find it, but the drive is fun and we see lots of other interesting places. We even stop at one, but are told we'll have a long wait for a table and decide to look elsewhere. There's a Ponderosa Steak House in Clifton Hill, and even though that's not a "distinctive Niagara Falls restaurant", it's Liz's absolute-most-favoritest-ever place to eat and we all like steak. So that's where we go. Well, the Ponderosa Steak House in Clifton Hill turns out to be not exactly like others in the chain, but it was pretty good. It does have a buffet salad bar, and much better steaks than we expected.

We get back to the hotel, full, and tired, and happy.

Story and original photography copyright ©1999 by John Lipman. All rights reserved.