Hiking and Four-wheeling: Timpanogos/Sagebrush Flats

I knew I had a hike coming up this week, but I hadn't yet decided where to go. I wanted to go somewhere that I'd never been before. These days, since I am a caregiver for my wife, where I go and how long I stay is pretty much dependent on her. Once she and I talked about how long she felt comfortable with me being gone today, I decided that I wanted to go to Sagebrush Flats, up near Mt. Timpanogos. The thing is though, I had no idea what it was called, so I jumped onto the Facebook page "Hike the Wasatch" and started asking questions. It didn't take long before the good folks there had me up and running.
I found out that the name of the place I wanted to go was "Sagebrush Flats" and the name of the mountain I could see in front of Mt. Timpanogos was "Mahogany Mountain". I also found out that there are at least three ways to get there. There are two trails (that were mentioned) that begin at the base of the mountain, and there's also a road that goes into Sagebrush Flats. I decided to take the road, thinking that once I got there, there would be some hiking that I could do. There were two reasons I chose the road instead of hiking the entire distance.

The first reason was that with my limited time today, that sounded like the most effective way to use it. The second reason was that my owner's manual says that I need to drive my 4runner in four-wheel drive for ten miles once a month. Since my time hasn't permitted me to go four-wheeling often enough to meet the suggested amount in the owner's manual--and since I love four-wheeling nearly as much as I love hiking, that was enough to sway me into using the road. I figured that I could always come back and hike up the trail some other day. Although I didn't really need my four-wheel drive, except for one mud puddle where I would have gotten stuck in two-wheel drive, high clearance is a must on this road. As it was, it turned out nearly perfect.
The road begins up American Fork Canyon. You pass Timpanogos Cave National Monument, then pass the turnoff to Tibble Fork, and continue on up the Alpine Loop Road to the turnoff for Timpooneke Campground. As you continue up the campground road,  you will pass the parking lot for the trailhead to the top of Timpanogos. This one is appropriately named Timpooneke Trailhead as opposed to the other popular trailhead at Aspen Grove.
Once past the trailhead you continue on up the paved road which soon becomes dirt. Well, dirt, rock, and since it had been raining nearly all night, mud and mud puddles! These are some of my favorite places in my 4runner. On the way in, I drive through the puddles somewhat cautiously, but on the way out, once I have driven through them safely, I hit the gas hard. If you have never done it, I suggest it. Make sure you close the windows--or leave them open on whomever you'd like to soak!
Part of every expedition I go on is scouting for future outings and on this trip I found plenty of camping, hiking, and picnic opportunities.

After about five or so miles on this road, a left fork headed toward Utah Valley, and the right fork, headed straight toward Mahogany Mountain. I took the right fork as it looked like my hiking for the day was going to be up onto the mountain in front of me. The road ended in a loop with a trail heading off to the west. I took the trail and headed up. At that point, the trail was pretty much heading straight up, with no switchbacks. I had to stop and rest frequently, and the views of the surrounding land were amazing. Low clouds hung around the peaks, and I could see down into Utah Valley on one side, and Salt Lake Valley on the other. Wildflowers were in abundance.

Continuing up the trail, I noticed very quickly that there was no way I was going to stay dry. The undergrowth was soaking wet from the rain that had fallen overnight--the rain that looked like it could come back any minute. My shoes and socks were soaked through in the first five minutes of hiking, and once I got into the higher grasses and brush, my shorts became soaked as well.
The trail tops out on a little knob with incredible views before plummeting downward into another part of the flats, and then up again through quakies until it reaches the ridgeline. At least, I think that's where it goes. As I entered the part of the trail that went through the quakies, the underbrush got higher, and I realized that I soon would be soaked from head to toe if  I continued much further. Looking at my watch and noting the time, I thought that there would be no way to make it to the top, or even the ridge before I'd have to turn around anyway, so instead of getting soaked with no hope of getting to a place with any better views, I headed back down.

Looking northwest toward Salt Lake County

About halfway back the rain started again. lightly at first, so I left my rain jacket in my pack. The closer I got to the trailhead, the harder it began to rain. I stuck my camera under my arm a bit and decided I could make it the last quarter mile without having to put it in the plastic bag that I always carry for that purpose inside my pack.

When I got back to the vehicle, I decided that I'd like to drive down the other fork in the road for about five minutes or so, but on the way back to the fork I spotted a female moose and two calves. I couldn't get close to them (and didn't really want to because mama mooses can be dangerous) and I had left the big zoom lens at home, so I took the best shot I could with the equipment I had.

Mama moose and two babies.

After that,  I drove down the other fork a ways, including through a thrilling mud puddle, before deciding that I would one day come back and follow that road all the way. I turned around and drove back down, hitting the puddles along the way, a smile on my face.

The cliffs of "Timp" shrouded in clouds

Thankfully the mud puddles were more water than dirt.

The adventure was over, but once again, it had left me with more places to go and more things to find out. I would be back some day, but until then, there were so many places to explore, that I knew I would never run out.

One thing I'm always on the lookout for is a nice picnic area.

This is Make Out Rock. No further info provided.

Hiking: Desolation Lake

This past Thursday was the perfect day for a hike. I am glad that I have a rotating day off that allows me to hike without a lot of other people. It's a great blessing really. This time I decided to go to Desolation Lake, an approximately 7.8 mile hike. I had done this hike once before, when my two sons were much younger and I was too, although, I had been up this trail part way several times since then. One of the times had been on snow shoes with a group of friends.
I got off to a later start than I normally like. I began hiking at 7:41 AM, the sun already well up. Still the air was cool at first and I found out once again that my stair climber portion of my workout program was paying dividends. The first couple of miles, up to where the trail splits and the left fork goes to Dog Lake (.6 more miles from there) and the right goes to Desolation Lake (1.9 more miles), went easily for me. I generally get passed by some of the younger folk, and nearly every time by an old “billy goat” a gray-haired guy in his seventies. Since I never saw the billy goat, I started thinking that maybe I'm personally moving into billy goat status myself. I'm not even in my sixties yet, but eventually you've got to consider  with pride that the older you get and keep having adventures, the more billy-goat-like you become. I admire those older people who can hike like billy goats. I got passed later by a trail runner, and that's it for people passing me. It's not that I was hiking fast, it's that with less people, there are going to be less people who hike faster—simple arithmetic.

As I meandered up the trail, at first, the sounds of vehicles on the Big Cottonwood Canyon Road could be plainly heard below. As time went on, however, the sound dissipated and eventually vanished as I moved deeper into the canyon and higher in elevation.

Flowers adorned the path, still not in full splendor, but about ready to break forth in mid-summer radiance. A gentle breeze pushed the fragrant scent of the evergreens toward me. The sound that had been cars below, became birds now, and Tiger Swallowtail butterflies and others flitted here and there.
I enjoyed just looking at the trees and lush plant life, sure signs of an abundant water year, and the views of the surrounding peaks were fabulous.

By the time I got to the lake, my stair climber preparation had worn off and I was getting tired.  It had taken me about two hours and twenty minutes from trailhead to lake, and that included stopping to take a lot of pictures. I left the trail at the lake to get up higher and see what I could see, maybe get some better photos of the lake.

Coming back down and circling the lake, I found the spot, under snow, where my sons and I had stopped to skip rocks across the surface of the lake years ago.

Where the furthest left snow patch is, that's where we once skipped rocks.

There had been some perfect rocks for skipping back then, but since the area was under a couple of feet of snow, those rocks were nowhere to be found. Thankfully, I had picked up a nice rock on the other side of the lake and I got as close as I could to the place where we had thrown them before and let it fly. I guess I have an old goat shoulder now too, and hadn't warmed up properly—it hurt to throw. I thought that maybe I'd do better if I had done some spring training...

As I rounded the lake and got to where the trail split off and  went to the north east, up to the ridge, a mountain biker came roaring down the trail. I wasn't on the trail that time, but all the mountain bikers I had seen that day had been courteous and had been watching out for hikers.
I was reminded that I was very close to a very large population of people and that we all can enjoy our various activities in the mountains. For example, I saw no one having a picnic, but there were many nice areas to lay out a blanket and have some food if one were so inclined. There are always many things to do in the mountains.

I sat down then and took a few more pics, ate some of my snacks and then headed back down the trail. On the way down, I took more shots. That's what it's like, hiking with me. This time, I was trying to get some of the butterflies in flight. Most of them wouldn't land, so getting a still shot was going to be tough. I noticed that the Tiger Swallowtails were meeting members of the opposite sex and then disappearing. Probably to a butterfly motel room somewhere.

There's a butterfly in flight here somewhere.

I finally found one that stood still for a moment and caught this pic.

Finally I got back to the parking area, my heart and mind elevated and refreshed—my spirit renewed. As always, the adventure ended too soon, but I knew there would be another one, and I couldn't wait.