Hiking to Inspiration Point via the Hidden Falls Trail from String Lake

I tested my left knee with my hand, pressing into it with my fingers to make sure no pain erupted from the side. At around mile 8 of Saturday’s half marathon it had started to ache, and I didn’t want to injure myself by not listening to my body. At the same time, I was eager to make the most of my last full day in Jackson, Wyoming, and also wanted to flush out my legs after the long run the previous morning. 

One of my favorite characteristics of a good hiking buddy is their ability to take a pulse of everyone’s fitness levels or energy level before offering hike options as opposed to a set-in-stone plan. My cousin, who lives in the park (and helps visitors discover and learn everything they need to know prior to visiting), has that special ability. 

When myself and two other friends who were staying with her this weekend expressed our desire to get out into Grand Teton National Park Sunday afternoon, she came back with a careful recommendation. “Let’s park at String Lake,” she suggested, “from there, we can go up to the falls. Then, if we feel like we have more energy, we can go to the next lookout, Inspiration Point. We can decide how we feel after that.” 

This hike provided us with multiple “stop and turn around” points so that we could choose our own adventure based on how we were feeling. Perfect for a post-half marathon adventure. 

Picnic Supplies at Dornans

Knowing that we wanted to picnic on the shore of the lake after we hiked, we stopped in the little town of Dornans where there’s a grocery store/deli, a wine shop, a pizza place, fishing/bike/water floating device rentals, and the Chuckwagon (for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Views are great, food’s alright). You can read more about it here >

Parking at String Lake

As with most beautiful locations, it would have been easier if we’d arrived at String Lake earlier that morning. However, we wanted to take it easy the day after our run, and so had had a leisurely morning.  

This meant we arrived at the parking lot during peak lake-lounging hour (around noon).

There were three parking lots for lake and trail access. The furthest from the trailhead was the largest of the lots. We circled each once, then circled the big parking lot three times, before finally snagging the perfect spot in the middle parking lot. 

The whole thing felt similar to finding parking at Kailua Beach or Waimea Bay. It’s a master class in the art of patience, circling slowly until something opens up.

Pro Tip: Dornans rents electric bikes. The price is steep for a full day, but it may be worth if you have the funds. Both String Lake and Jenny Lake are not far into Grand Teton National Park, and are easier to access via bike vs finding a parking space. Plus, you know I’m a supporter of bicycle travel vs car travel when thinking about our environmental impact.

The Hike to Hidden Falls

A dirt path wound from the parking lot, along the lake, to the start of our hike. Small but clear signs directed ramblers to their destination. Ours was the Hidden Falls, which was listed as 2.2 miles away. 

We took note of some lakeside locations where we might be able to snag a seat after we returned from the hike. The trail grade increased slightly, guiding us up a slight hill. To our left, water flowed in rapids over rocks and I thought to myself, this can’t be the falls already?? We’ve barely even walked at all!

The Hidden Falls were five times the size of those initial gushes of water at the start of our mini trek.

The water rushed past, an icy blue and deep green that made our skin itch to stop and jump in (and reminded me of the ‘90s commercials for the frost glacier flavor of Gatorade).

We continued along the trail, leaving that rush of water behind and following along on the narrow dirt path. Summer had arrived and there was little shade on as we walked. Luckily, it was not a steep climb, relatively flat from start to finish, and we had incredible views of Jenny Lake to our left.

In the trees to our right, an Osprey shrieked into the cloudless blue sky. Another sat in a tree that hung over the lake, a fish caught in its talons. 

We continued to follow the dirt path, stepping lightly over streams, until a long line of people caught our eye. They were coming down a hill and winding further down along a switchback that twisted to the right where the path came to a halt at a boat ramp. 

The Boat Ramp on the Trail

You can take a boat shuttle from the Jenny Lake parking lot over to this trail. From the boat ramp, it’s only about one-half mile to the Hidden Falls. 

Pro Tip: The people who have taken the shuttle boat over from the parking lot will be standing in line to get back onto the boat both during and after your ascent. They seem to be a lot more understanding when you’re hiking up past them versus when we were hiking back down. A couple got a bit hot and bothered when we had to pass them on our way back down. My suggestion is to overcommunicate as you pass on the way back to the hiking trail that extends beyond the boat ramp so that they’re not surprised by you sneaking past and don’t think you’re trying to cut them in line for the boat.

We made it past the boat ramp line and up the taupe-colored trail to the right. The sound of water flooded our ears and we looked to our left to see a small river rushing over rocks.

We kept walking until we passed a wooden bridge to our right. Just past this bridge was a circular patch of dirt with a few trees here and there and stones set up to create tiers of dirt. It was an amphitheater so that visitors could sit and stare up at… wow!

The magnitude of the Hidden Falls made my heart thunder.

They may have been “hidden,” tucked in this small nook in the forest, but they were certainly not hiding. 

Craning my neck, I watched as water soared down in crashing tumbles. Other visitors scrambled to get a picture at the base, and honestly, who could blame them? It was magnificent, and I had to wonder about those first inhabitants of this land. What must they have thought when they came across this water fall? It must have been a powerful experience, and was still powerful that day.

How lucky we are to be able to exist in a world with such things.

I stood back from the crowd under the shade of the trees. The water from the waterfall, distant, was cooling the air so that I shivered after being in the heat so long. 

Inspiration Point, Grand Teton National Park

Once we’d had our fix of the falls, we discussed our next steps. We came to a collective decision that we each had enough energy to hike another half-mile up to the top of the peak to our right: Inspiration Point. 

The hike is fairly steep, though viewpoints along the way offer a respite should you need it. There’s no shame in stopping if it means you get to stare out across the endless watery blue of Jenny Lake where pines toast the sidelines. 

The path is set with stones that help you keep your footing on the sand-like terrain, and fat chipmunks (bellies filled with stollen trail mix) scamper to and fro, waiting for you to notice them. 

At the top of the point, we stopped and sat for a while, taking in the epic view. There’s something so soothing about staring out at vast bodies of water. 

As usual, I saw a rock in the distance and had to take a picture on it. I’m not immune to needing my photographic proof of visiting a place, so scampered over, and waited patiently for a boy to get his photo before I got mine. He wasn’t so thoughtful and decided to stay during mine as well, but I didn’t mind. No one would have believed I was alone in this place anyway.

When we’d gotten our photos and had spent time with our phones tucked away so that we could take in the views, we made our way back down the mountain. 

We struggled a bit to get past the boat ramp line (people thought we were trying to push past to cut in line or got disgruntled because we didn’t announce that we were passing loudly enough) but ce la vie. 

Nothing really stuck out in my mind apart from a Marmot sitting on a big rock. Having seen an Osprey and a Marmot, we started to list off the names of all the brands that have adopted the names of these animals.

As we treked back over streams and past the rushing water (not to our right) stomach growled and I realized that I was pretty darn hungry. It was time for relaxing by the lake with a handful of snacks.

Picnicking at String Lake, Grand Teton National Park

We set up camping chairs and opened our picnic items from Dornans: Mary’s black pepper seeded crackers, prosciutto and cheese rolls, tuna and crackers, a sandwich on rye, honey pretzels.

Mosquitos wanted to eat us, buzzing around while we sat beneath the shade of the trees, so we moved closer to the lake’s water where, surprisingly, the blood-suckers were less prevalent. 

I was wearing my bathing suit, but had forgotten a towel. Not feeling like I wanted to sit in the car soaking wet on the drive home, I scrunched up my shorts and waded into String Lake as deep as possible.

At first, the cold glacier water stung, but then it started to feel good, soothing my sore legs and working wonders on my aching left knee. My feet scrunched in the soft, silt sand of the lake bottom, carefully moving over the river rocks and twigs. 

We’d also brought my cousin’s inflatable stand-up paddleboard, but the thought of inflating and then deflating it was too much for that afternoon. Instead, we simply waded and sat and snacked and listened to the chatter that broke through the rustle of trees. People were laughing and playing on a variety of floating devices, calling out to one another but never in an obnoxious way. They laughed when they plunged into the cold water, and dared each other to dive in. 

When at last we felt the need to pack it up, we moved slowly, folding the chairs and grabbing the remnants of our snacks from the bear bin that stood like a careful metal soldier near the water’s edge.