Postcards From

I didn’t expect much from Cuyahoga. Wedged between Cleveland and Akron, it often makes lists named things like “Top 5 Worst National Parks”. No geysers or canyon rims here. Just a crooked river, some patchy farmland, and a forest learning how to be wild again. But we were passing through Ohio anyway, craved an escape from the mundane highway of endless farmland, and the idea of a national park tucked into an old industrial corridor was too intriguing to ignore.

I came in with low expectations and left with muddy shoes and contentment you only get from wandering without a plan. I followed along an old towpath where mules once hauled boats, and the river ran beside me. Slow, wide, and worn from a long history of abuse and return. It felt like a place still finding its shape.

There were waterfalls, old barns, and stretches of trail where it was just us and the sound of birds and bike gears clicking in the distance. Not spectacular, but peaceful. The kind of place that grows on you and that you can find appreciation for when you pay attention.

Getting There

Cuyahoga Valley National Park doesn’t have clear boundaries and an entrance gate like most National Parks. Instead, it consists of neighborhoods thinning out into trailheads and highways giving way to marshland.

The park stretches between Cleveland and Akron, making it one of the most accessible parks in the country. If you’re flying in, Cleveland Hopkins International Airport (CLE) is just under 30 miles away, with Akron-Canton Airport (CAK) to the south. Either way, you’ll want a car.

Most visitors start at Boston Mill Visitor Center, right off Riverview Road. From the north, you can take I-77 or I-271, then exit onto Route 303. From the south, it’s a straight shot up through Akron and into the valley. There’s parking at Boston Mill and at dozens of smaller trailheads throughout the park, though lots can fill up on weekends. We came through on I-80 (Ohio Turnpike) then cut down South. We had no issue finding parking at the RV Lot for the Boston Mills Visitor Center. However, we were told we may have trouble finding spots at other popular trailhead lots.

If you’d rather take in the views as a passenger, the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad runs through the park on select days, with stops in Independence, Peninsula, and Akron. It’s slow, scenic, and charmingly out of sync with the pace of modern life allowing you to slow down and take in the views.

History

Cuyahoga is an indigenous term meaning “crooked river”. The river curves and coils through this valley and ends up south of Lake Erie, working its way north. For thousands of years, this land was home to Indigenous communities who moved with the seasons and followed the river’s rhythms. Long before highways and railroads, the Cuyahoga was a highway of its own.

Then came settlers, and then came industry. The river became a workhorse. It was dredged, dammed, and made to serve the growing cities of Cleveland and Akron. Sawmills were built all along the river to harness its natural power. Then, in the 19th century, the Ohio & Erie Canal was built alongside it, connecting Cleveland to Lake Erie & subsequently, the Atlantic. Mules pulled freight boats through the valley and stitched Ohio into the fabric of a young and expanding country. You can still walk the old towpath today, where trees are reclaiming the edges and the air smells more like earth than coal.

By the mid-20th century, the area was a mess of factories, freeways, and forgotten farmland. Efforts began to preserve the area as a park, sparked by the Olmstead Brothers. The Civilian Conservation Corp began making the area suitable for recreational activities. Then, after years of abuse, the Cuyahoga River infamously caught fire in 1969 for 24 minutes. One of many times, really, but that was the fire that stuck in the national imagination after ending up on the cover of Times Magazine. It burned hot enough to spark something bigger: a wave of environmental change. The image of a flaming river helped launch the Clean Water Act and the modern environmental movement.

In 1974, the valley was protected as a National Recreation Area: an unusual mix of forest, farmland, and small towns, preserved not for its untouched wildness, but for its potential. In 2000, it officially became a national park.

Cuyahoga Valley doesn’t pretend to be pristine. It’s a park that wears its history in layers. Canal stones and train tracks, second-growth forest and old homesteads. It’s a place that reminds us nature doesn’t have to be far away or untouched or even that spectacular in the grand scheme of things to be worth protecting. Sometimes, it just needs a little time, and people willing to pay attention.

Fees

Unlike many other National Parks, Cuyahoga Valley does not charge any fees and does not require reservations

Top Things to Do

Boston Mills Visitor Center

We started at the Boston Mill Visitor Center, a bright yellow building tucked right along the road, with the Cuyahoga River running just behind it. We took the usual photo in front of the sign. One of those small rituals that you just have to do.

A ranger greeted us and handed over a free sticker to celebrate the park’s 50th anniversary (unexpected and appreciated). The exhibits inside were well done. They included lots of history about the canal era, the formation of the park, and the wildlife that lives there now. Outside, we wandered through the old railroad signs, benches, and small interpretive plaques that give a sense of what this area used to be. Walking around here, the past didn’t feel too far away.

Before hitting the trail, I picked out a postcard from the gift shop, got some advice from a ranger for the best way to spend one day in the park, and then headed for the Stanford Trail.

Brandywine Falls

1. Brandywine Falls Boardwalk

• Distance: 0.25 miles round trip
• Difficulty: Very easy
• Trailhead: Brandywine Falls parking lot
• Highlights: Quick access to the upper and lower viewing platforms of the 65-foot falls. Paved path and boardwalk. Great for all ages and abilities.

2. Brandywine Gorge Loop

• Distance: 1.5 miles round trip
• Difficulty: Moderate (some uneven terrain, stairs, and roots)
• Trailhead: Brandywine Falls parking lot
• Highlights: Walk through the woods, cross a footbridge downstream, and return along the other side of the gorge. A fuller view of the area beyond just the falls.

3. Stanford Trail

• Distance: 3.8 miles round trip
• Difficulty: Moderate
• Trailhead: Boston Mill Visitor Center
• Highlights: Forest, fields, wooden bridges, and a more peaceful, scenic route to Brandywine Falls. Less crowded than starting at the falls lot.

4. Stanford + Gorge Loop Combo

• Distance: ~5 miles round trip
• Difficulty: Moderate
• Trailhead: Boston Mill Visitor Center
• Highlights: Hike to the falls via Stanford Trail, then loop around the gorge before heading back. Best option if you want a longer, immersive route with multiple views.

Charlie and I took the Stanford Trail to Brandywine Falls because we liked the idea of arriving on foot. Most people drive straight there, pile out, snap their photo, and call it a visit. Nothing wrong with that, but I’ve always believed a place feels different when you earn it at walking speed. You also miss out on many of the small delights that walking in the woods bring you by driving.

The trail starts behind the Boston Mill Visitor Center and begins by following the old Towpath. Now a bike path, this was once where mules pulled boats along the canal. Stone lock walls still line the canal acting as reminders of a time when boats rose and fell with nothing more than water and well-timed gates. The path was quiet that morning. Turtles sun-bathed on logs and muskrats paddled along the river. Life that has returned to this river. Small miracles that we were able to witness.

The trail then gives way ot the woods. The trail is well-maintained and isn’t too steep consisting of dirt, roots, and early light that filtered through leaves in long, slow stripes. I crossed a few wooden bridges, skirted some patches of old mud, and passed through a wide open meadow that smelled like sun-warmed weeds. There were birds I couldn’t name and squirrels darting around.

The last stretch before the falls is the best part. On one side, rock ledges rise up, green with moss and cool to the touch. On the other, the land drops away into the gorge, wide and quiet, except for the sound that’s been building. The low, steady rush of water. You follow the boardwalk as it curves with the hillside, the falls still hidden but close. Then, all at once, there they are. Brandywine with water spilling over the ledge in a clean, white sheet. You can stand at the lower overlook and watch it fall, or keep walking and stand right at the top, where the creek slides past your feet and disappears over the edge.

Brandywine Falls drops 65 feet over rock that’s older than anything else around it. The top layer is sandstone, hard and stubborn. Below that, softer shale has worn away slowly, the way water always wins if you give it enough time. What you see now is the result: a wide, steady fall with a clean white curtain and a dark rock shelf behind it. In the 1800s, a mill sat here, grinding grain into flour using the same water that now draws hikers and appears on postcards. That’s long gone, but the water hasn’t stopped. It just keeps going, over and over, always moving onto the next place.

Ledges Trail

The loop is about 2.2 miles, tucked into the Virginia Kendall area, and it’s known for its massive sandstone cliffs, called ledges, that tower along one side of the trail. The rocks are covered in moss and streaked with age, with narrow crevices and little caves along the way. There’s also a scenic overlook where the trail opens up to a sweeping view of the valley below. It’s especially beautiful in the late afternoon or fall. From what I gathered, the terrain can be uneven in places, with stone steps and roots underfoot, but nothing too technical. It seems like the kind of trail that offers a lot in a short loop—shade, rock, quiet, and a sense that the landscape is older than it lets on.

Blue Hen Falls

The trail is about 1.5 miles round trip if you start from the Boston Mill Visitor Center, following a stretch of the Buckeye Trail before breaking off. It winds through shaded forest, over a footbridge, and eventually leads to a 15-foot waterfall pouring gently over a curved rock ledge. It’s not big, but it’s got that tucked-away feel—more of a pause than a destination. From what I’ve read and heard, it’s especially peaceful in the early morning or just after rain, when the creek is flowing well and the leaves are still dripping. If I’d had another hour, I would’ve gone. Next time.

Canal Exploration Center

The Canal Exploration Center offers visitors a glimpse into the rich history of the Ohio & Erie Canal, which played a crucial role in shaping the Cuyahoga Valley region. The center features exhibits with historical tools, maps, and scale models that demonstrate how boats navigated the canal system, including the use of locks and towpaths. It provides context about the daily lives of workers, the impact of the canal on local communities, and the engineering feats of the era. The center serves as a thoughtful introduction to the park’s industrial past and helps visitors appreciate the landscape beyond its natural beauty.

Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad

The Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad runs right through the heart of the park, following the old canal route in a way that feels both practical and nostalgic. It’s not the fastest way to get anywhere, but that’s the point. The train winds slowly past marshes, forest, and fields, the kind of landscape you’d miss if you were driving. Riders can hop on and off at different stations, or combine it with a hike or a bike ride—many people ride one way and walk or pedal the Towpath Trail back. The rhythm of the train, the old-fashioned cars, the way people wave as it passes—it’s all part of the quiet charm of the park. It reminds you that this valley was always a route, even before it was a destination.

Biking the Towpath

The Towpath Trail runs through the park, following the old Ohio & Erie Canal route for over 20 miles. It’s wide, mostly flat, and ideal for biking whether you’re out for a quick ride or an all-day wander. You pass old canal locks, stone foundations, slow-moving water, and stretches of forest and marshland that feel more remote than they are. The surface is crushed gravel in most spots, smooth enough for any bike with decent tires. What makes it even better is the Bike Aboard! program: ride one way, then hop on the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad for a $5 lift back. It’s the kind of setup that makes the park feel not just accessible, but welcoming and designed for people to move through at their own pace.

Local Farms

Scattered throughout the park are small working farms tucked between the trees and meadows. Through the Countryside Initiative, the National Park Service leases land to local farmers, keeping the valley’s agricultural roots alive. You’ll pass old barns, rows of vegetables, grazing livestock, and farm stands that feel more like neighbors than attractions. There’s even a vineyard in the park, Sarah’s Vineyard, just outside the boundary—where you can sit with a glass of Ohio wine and look out over the vines. In summer, one farm offers pick-your-own blueberries, the kind that stain your fingers and make a walk feel like something more.On summer Saturdays, the Countryside Farmers Market sets up at Howe Meadow, bringing together fresh produce, local cheese, baked goods, flowers, and the kind of friendly conversation that makes you want to linger. It’s not just a stop for snacks. It’s part of the landscape, part of what makes this park feel lived-in and local, not just protected.

Everett Covered Bridge

Tucked down a quiet road not far from the Towpath Trail, the Everett Covered Bridge is the last remaining covered bridge in Summit County. It’s a striking red structure stretched over Furnace Run, framed by trees that turn gold and crimson in the fall. The original bridge washed out in the 1970s, but the current one is a faithful reconstruction—a nod to the era when horses and wagons were the only traffic through the valley. There’s a short walking loop nearby, easy and peaceful, where the bridge becomes less of a landmark and more of a part of the landscape. It’s the kind of place you don’t need to stay long to appreciate—just long enough to hear your footsteps on the boards and the water moving underneath.

Bridalveil Falls

Bridal Veil Falls sits just outside the main boundary of the park in the Bedford Reservation, but it’s worth the short detour. A wooden staircase leads down to the falls, where a series of thin, lacy streams slide over smooth shale in long ribbons—hence the name. It’s not tall or thunderous, but it’s graceful and intricate, especially after a good rain. The setting feels tucked away: ferns, damp stone, and the steady whisper of water over rock. The trail is short and easy, under half a mile round trip, and it’s the kind of spot that rewards a quiet moment more than a long hike. Not many crowds, not a lot of noise—just one of those small, steady places that holds your attention without asking for it.

Wildlife Viewing & Bird Watching

Cuyahoga Valley doesn’t compare to other parks when it comes to wildlife. However, walk slow, look twice and you’re sure to find something. Along the Towpath Trail, especially near Beaver Marsh, there’s a good chance of spotting great blue herons standing like statues in the water, or turtles sunning themselves on a log. If you’re patient, you might catch a glimpse of a muskrat weaving through the reeds or a beaver slipping under the surface. In the early morning, the woods fill with bird calls: woodpeckers, chickadees, warblers. Even the occasional barred owl if you’re lucky and quiet. Deer move through the fields around dusk, often unnoticed unless you stop and watch the edge of the trees. It’s not a park that puts its wildlife on display—but it’s there, steady and close, if you take the time to notice.

Local Towns

Just outside the park, the town of Peninsula is the closest place to grab a meal or a coffee without straying too far from the trails. It’s small—one main road, a few historic buildings, and a mix of shops and cafes that feel like they belong here. The Winking Lizard Tavern is the local go-to for burgers and beer, and Fishers Café has been around since the 1950s—good for breakfast or something simple after a hike. If you’re willing to drive a little, Hudson to the east is a bit more polished, with coffee shops, bookstores, and nicer sit-down spots. Akron and Cleveland both border the park and offer just about everything, but part of the charm of Cuyahoga is that you don’t have to go far to find something. The park bleeds into these towns, and the towns lean back into it—it all feels connected. You can hike all morning, then be sitting at a café with pie by noon, and that’s part of what makes this place work.

Seasonal Tips

Cuyahoga Valley shifts with the seasons, and each brings its own rhythm. Spring is muddy but full of life—waterfalls run heavy, wildflowers start to show, and the trails wake up soft underfoot. Bring boots you don’t mind getting dirty. Summer is lush and green, with long shady walks and plenty of bugs (pack the spray). It’s the best time for biking the Towpath or catching wildlife at Beaver Marsh, especially in the early morning. Fall is the park’s showstopper—peak foliage usually hits mid-to-late October, and every trail feels like a postcard. Crowds grow with the colors, so go early. Winter is quiet and stripped down. Trails are open, and the Towpath becomes a corridor for cross-country skiing or slow, bundled-up walks. If it’s cold enough, Brandywine Falls freezes into a sculpted sheet of ice. No matter when you go, layers help—the weather likes to change its mind.

Reflection

Cuyahoga isn’t a park that overwhelms. It doesn’t rely on scale or spectacle. What it offers is quieter and layered. A mix of forest and farmland, waterfalls and stone ledges, towpaths and train whistles. But what struck me most is that this place almost disappeared. The river once caught fire from pollution. The valley was marked by neglect, sprawl, and industry. And somehow, through effort and intention, it was pieced back together. Trail by trail, farm by farm, one clean stretch of river at a time. It’s a national park now, but it still feels lived-in: towns just beyond the trees, cyclists on the old canal path, farmers pulling weeds beside hikers. The wild parts aren’t untouched, they’re reclaimed. And maybe that’s what makes it so worth visiting. Not because it’s pristine, but because it wasn’t—and someone cared enough to bring it back. It’s not wilderness, and it doesn’t try to be. It’s something else: familiar, resilient, and still becoming.