If the grimy, decrepit, paint-infested remains of LA’s Murphy Ranch hike decided to have a wild rendezvous with the colorful, rocky delight that is Salvation Mountain,, and they chose the always delightful and surprising Riverside County as the birthing ground, Graffiti Falls would be their love child. Behold, a spectacle that might mislead you in the waterfall department (thanks, drought), but compensates generously with an abundance of graffiti.
The thrilling sense of danger begins right at the entrance, where you can't help but wonder if you've accidentally wandered into somebody's backyard on a very average-looking street. Well, reality check – you're borderline trespassing, and that seemingly ordinary house is your only gateway to the falls. It might be a tad awkward, especially if someone is at home, perhaps engrossed in a riveting knitting session by the window or some equally mundane activity. Yet, if you can navigate through the nuances of legality with a nonchalant spirit, then go forth full speed ahead on this uniquely peculiar journey.
Embarking on this adventure demands a seemingly uneventful 1.5-mile trek through the dusty trails that Riverside proudly showcases. As you traverse the path, your eyes will feast upon the riveting sights of charred grass, rocks with questionable shapes, and the occasional semi-interesting woodland critter that might scurry across your trail. While it may appear a bit lackluster initially, hold onto your hiking boots, for this journey promises to unleash a burst of excitement, dazzling you with radiant hues of light before you can even utter, "Is that a tumbleweed or a misplaced shrub?"
And when you’re getting close, Graffiti Falls is practically impossible to overlook. Picture a human kaleidoscope, but with an adorable dash of gang symbols and colorful expletives for that urban chic touch. Clearly, this one is a graffiti connoisseur's dream. While other hikes might offer a single tagged-up building or a water tower, Graffiti Falls is an "all in" effort by artists who seized control years ago. Nothing about this massive landscape screams "natural" anymore; it's more like a jarring wall of vibrant illustrations as if a rainbow had a bit too much to drink and rode a bumpy roller coaster on an empty stomach. What was once a powerful backdrop for a waterfall is now the mountain equivalent of 1980s NYC subway art – and it's wonderfully chaotic.
Feel free to explore and embrace your inner mountain goat in these parts, hopping from rock to rock to uncover all of the hidden corners. But heed this friendly warning: the cliffs play hard to get, the paths are as narrow as a tightrope, and the whole area is more disorienting than trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions. And also know that the entire scene is a "pretty distracting" visual circus, so try to maintain your composure as you bounce across this technicolor dreamscape or some level of vertigo might set in. Because remember: It's all fun and games until someone takes a tumble at Graffiti Falls.
Once your senses have had their fill of the magical realm that is Graffiti Falls, it's time to descend the trail, bid adieu to this vibrant masterpiece, and head homeward—or, to be precise, perhaps to someone else's home, with cops waiting for you, due to that lingering trespassing dilemma. But hey, who said adventures couldn't have a dash of unpredictability?
Alternatively, if you're feeling particularly inspired – or just happened to pick up an extra paint can on your way – why not turn your brief visit into a full blown staycation? Spend the night and contribute to the ever-evolving canvas that is Graffiti Falls. It's like camping, but with more dangerous paint fumes and less wilderness, and it's cheaper than any local Airbnb. Just remember to bring your artistic flair and a good sense of humor – after all, you're about to become part of the Riverside legend. Who knew a trail could lead not just to a destination but also to impromptu artistry? Only in Riverside, my friends.
NOTE: I've been informed that this trail is on private property and is closed to the public. Please do not trespass to view this site or otherwise disturb area homeowner
HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?
How did this happen? Well, I like to think that a large posse of taggers all showed up one night and went to work, covering every crevice with colorful paint, with a fearless leader barking "I want no stone left unturned, god damn it! We ned to be done by morning!"
However, the reality is that this natural canvas has been slowly and steadily filling up over time, with every youthful tagger in Riverside County getting their turn.