I took this walk, a few years back. It was an overcast July day, one that we rarely experience in this part of the country. Intending to fish the Yellowstone, I got side-tracked and ended up driving to Mill Creek. There was a trailhead. A sign indicated that a falls lay somewhere ahead. A couple of miles, not too far. I thought "what the hell, might as well go take a look." It turned out to be a nice walk, the clouds kept the usual daytime heat at bay. The trail wound through burned over country, fireweed bloomed profusely along the way.
The view of the falls was a worthwhile reward, the proverbial pot at the end of the rainbow.
Today I'd wager that the falls are silent, frozen by winters icy grip. An ambitious soul might get to take a look. Snowshoes or cross country skis would be handy though.