Mineral Fork: a return to the past

Years ago, there was a place called "Mineral Fork" high in the Wasatch Mountains, in Big Cottonwood Canyon. Actually it's still there, but years ago, you could drive up in it in four-wheel drive vehicles. It wasn't easy. There were some waterfall crossings that were pretty intense back then. We went up there once in the 1970s in my friend's FJ40 Toyota Landcruiser ( I later owned one, and I have missed having it ever since I got rid of it in the early 80s). All of us were teenagers out for a fun four-wheeling experience.

My friend's Landcruiser was a lot like this except baby blue.

We drove up to a mine that I later found out was called the Wasatch Mine. People had been here before us, long ago, working in the side of the mountain, looking for precious metals. That road may have been started by them--or maybe it existed even further back and was some kind of Native American trail, or even a game trail in places. Now, while it's still open to ATVs and is the only place in Big Cottonwood that allows that, it is a great place to take a hike. No ATVs were up there this day, and if they were, they would've had a challenging time getting past a tree that had fallen across the trail. I have heard that before long ATV access will no longer exist up here.
The reason being is partially because not many people hike here. They find other more popular destinations, like Lake Blanche, Desolation Lake, and nearby peaks, like Mt. Raymond and Gobblers Knob.
I knew this. I had been up this trail several times since the four-wheeling days in the seventies. The first time was soon after that time. I hiked up in there. I think I was still a teen, but maybe I was 20. Anyway, I was young and dumb and failed to pack water. There is a stream up there that comes right out of the mine, turning the rocks orange. The water is contaminated, but I didn't know that then. I was mad with thirst and bent down to drink out of the stream. I didn't feel all that good afterward, but I didn't die. Although maybe, if I get cancer sometime in my life, it will end up being because I put that contamination in my body way back when. You never know.
This past Wednesday, I had been planning a hike with my son Ben, who was going to take me to breakfast and then hike with me as a birthday present. My birthday had been a few weeks ago, but we had scheduled the hike for my staycation week. The night before, Ben ended up having car problems and had to take his car to the mechanic. He wanted to be available if they called him, so he had to cancel (and hopefully reschedule) the hiking portion. We still went out to breakfast and after that I drove up to the "trailhead". Wanting to still do the original hike with Ben, I had decided to do Mineral Fork instead of our original plan, which was to hike the Alexander Basin trail to Gobblers Knob.
There is no sign at the beginning of  the Mineral Fork trail. At least not right at the roadside. All I can say is that it's above the S-curve, but before you get to Mill D, and it's a gate on the right side of the road. Hike back in there, cross the stream, and you'll see a sign there identifying it as Mineral Fork, about fifty yards in.
I began hiking at 9 am. There was only one other vehicle parked near the gate. I had no idea if whoever was in the car had gone up the Mineral Fork trail, or maybe had used it as access to fish Big Cottonwood Creek, or something else.

These waterfalls are just above the road

The trail is fairly steep and switchbacks back and forth across the stream a couple of times before finally making its way back into the canyon.  It's mostly through wooded areas, so there's protection from the sun for a large portion of the trail. This particular day, was overcast, so there was more sun protection, and less opportunity to get any great pics. In addition to the steepness, there's a lot of loose rock on the trail. I had a time deadline, so I thought I'd hike up until about 11:00 and then turn around. I knew that I'd be taking a bunch of pics, which would slow me down, so I had no idea if I'd make it to the Wasatch Mine, which was three miles back in. My goal would be to get beyond that and up to the Regulator Johnson Mine, which is another two miles, and then up to the ridge, to look down into Lake Blanche and over to Sundial Peak.
I made it to the mine just at 11:00 and took a few pics. The history of mining in these mountains was evident throughout the upper canyon. Definitely interesting for the history buff as well as the hiker.
It had begun sprinkling, so I tucked my camera away in my pack and headed down. I found some wildflowers that I had to try and get some good photos of though, and the camera came back out. The rain still hadn't

Wasatch mine tailings and wildflowers

intensified, so I left the camera out.
When I was maybe 2 miles back down, a guy came up behind me and passed me. I assumed he was the owner of the other vehicle I had seen down below. That's the only person I saw on the trail.
It's a Beautiful hike with many possible picnic sites and places to rest. If I would've begun earlier, I could've made it to the other mine and possibly the ridge. I will have to keep that in mind for future adventures.

Looking up at the Wasatch Mine and upper Mineral Fork

The Wasatch Mine

Hiking and Four-wheeling: American Fork Canyon

The Moon was Beautiful low in the eastern sky

I have been on vacation this week and with our original plan of spending two nights in Colorado canceled, I figured I could hike twice this week. Today was the first one. On the agenda was the Tibble Fork Loop hike, which I had heard a lot about, but never done.
I got up early, hoping to see the sunrise while I was up there, and actually I got up there a lot faster than I thought I would and sat back in the new Tibble Fork parking lot to try and get some pictures of the little smile of a moon that was rising in the eastern sky.
Once it started getting light, I headed over to the dam as that was where the trail head was supposed to be. I parked down below it, on the pull out area between the road and the dam. Once I crossed the dam I could see the trail, or what I believed to be the trail, heading up the side of the hill. There were a couple of spots of yellow ribbon around the base of the trail.

I went back later and took these two pics of the trailhead when it was light.

Same picture, but from a distance back on the dam.

I wasn't quite sure that it really was the trail because A) there was no sign indicating so, and B) there was a trail going off to the left, as if it was going to circle the reservoir. I decided that the one going along the side of the lake was not the trail, so I skirted the ribbon, trying to avoid the eroded areas, and worked my way up the trail.
Once on the trail I found that someone had cut trees and branches and put them across the trail.

They had to cut down a lot of scrub oak to cover this trail.

It was definite that someone was trying to discourage hiking on that trail, but I kept going--mostly because there hadn't been a sign at the trail head indicating that the trail was closed. After a while of climbing over the branches, the trail met another one angling in from the left and the branches and small trees no longer covered the trail.

I was able to get up high early enough to catch the light on nearby
peaks.

I made my way up through scrub oak and maple, and then gradually, found myself amongst the quakies and pines as I climbed in elevation.  At about this point it dawned on me that I had forgotten to pay the fee that is charged for doing anything in American Fork Canyon. I had heard of some people who had gotten caught for that and had ended up paying a hefty fine, and I debated heading back down the way I came. But I decided I would just hike fast instead. In a few minutes, I found a junction and one trail headed left over to Mill Canyon, the other part of the loop was that way.

The trail to the right led to Mud Spring. I turned and looked at the other side of the sign, as if I was coming up from the Mill Canyon side and saw that the trail I had come up had officially been closed.

Yep. I had come up the closed trail. Oops!

I had actually been surprised by all of this because it seemed like I had seen several trip reports from people hiking this loop, and none of them had mentioned the closure. Maybe it has been very recently that they have closed it. And there was no actual sign on the Tibble Fork end that noted the closure. I felt bad, but there was really nothing I could do at that point.
I still wasn't sure I was on the right trail though because I hadn't really studied the map and didn't actually know the name "Mill Canyon" so it didn't really mean anything to me on the sign. I met two women coming up and they confirmed that I was on the trail that looped back. One of them was wearing something that to me looked like ranger clothing so I was a bit worried that I might get in trouble for hiking up that way I had. But there had been no badge, so I figured that her hiking clothing just kind of resembled ranger gear and that she was just another hiker.

In the midst of peace and contentment, there are still signs of civilization.

You can still find pockets of color.

The reds are hard to come by now.

Up there at the top, the trail meanders through some large meadows. There wasn't a lot of color left--just patches really---but it was still Beautiful. There is another fork in the trail and it was pretty self-explanatory.

The next sign I saw showed me the way back to Tibble Fork where I was parked.

And it smelled so good and clean up there! I made my way down Mill Canyon, taking pics along the way, still a bit worried as to whether or not I'd have a ticket waiting for me on my windshield.

Looking north 

Stream crossing for motorcycles and bikes.

This looked like a ladder in the sky to me.

Once back, there wasn't a ticket and I breathed a sigh of relief then headed to the fee station to pay my fee so I could be legal for the rest of my stay. I had decided that I wanted to do a little driving on dirt roads, so I headed up to Silver Lake Flat. Along the way I noticed that the Granite Flat Campground had a hand-scrawled sign that you could have a picnic in there, but you had to pay $8 and your canyon fee didn't count. I decided that there were probably better places to have picnics and that my canyon fee would suffice for those other places.

Not that I was stopping to eat. I had jammed down my peanut butter sandwich shortly after getting back to my vehicle and wasn't planning on eating again until I got down out of the mountains. I had promised Ann that I would get home early because I had gotten up at the crack of dawn. There are certain pleasures that only can happen as you are awaiting the sunrise, and I wanted those perks, but that would be at the expense of not staying as long into the afternoon. Part of being a caregiver.
I drove through the stream that gurgles into Silver Lake and headed up the dirt road toward Red Baldy and the other peaks up that direction.

Looking toward Mt. Timpanogos from the Silver Flat Lake Road

Looking north, toward Red Baldy, etc.

From the road above Silver Lake Flat

From the trailhead parking just above Silver Lake.

I didn't spend a lot of time up there, just enough to give my hubs a workout, and to get a few pics of the peaks and remaining colors. And, as always, to leave myself feeling a little bit unsatisfied, so I would be sure to come back. I found a few more trails to take and a few more roads to drive. What more could a man want? I thanked God for letting me have a great time in his world, and headed back down to civilization.
The adventure was over, but another one is just around the corner. I can't wait.

I had a great time. Wish you were here!

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.