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.

Great hiking and fun fishing in the Uintas

On Friday I got up at 4:00 to try and get to the Ruth Lake trailhead in the Uinta Mountains early. I actually ended up leaving the Salt Lake Valley at about 5:15 after forgetting my worms and having to drive back a few blocks to retrieve them. Almost like when someone gets distracted when talking on the phone (hands free), and misses their exit ramp on the freeway.
The drive up was uneventful. I say that, but really as I approached Bald Mountain Pass, off to the side of the road was an entire herd of mountain goats. I stopped and took a few pics of them, then continued on my way.

Right off the road, a herd of mountain goats.

The trailhead parking was already quite full when  I got there. I found out later that there were quite a few Scout troops and families camped by all the lakes that fed off the Ruth Lake trail. Most of the cars there were from folks who had spent at least one night camping. I was envious!
Up to Ruth Lake, the trail is pretty well distinct. Along the way, I saw a bull moose sneaking his way along the edge of a large meadow. At that moment I wished that I had decided to pack the extra weight of my zoom lens, but I was still able to at least document that he was there.

If you look closely, that dark brown spot in the center of the pic is a bull moose sneaking through the trees.

I found the first of several Scout troops at Ruth Lake. They had camped right on the trail and I skirted around them. My goal was to make it to Teal Lake and get some quality fishing time. After skirting the Scout camp I was unable to locate any trail heading toward Teal. I decided to pull out my trusty GPS and just head for it cross country.

Ruth Lake

It was a bit rugged in parts, and I found out that if you're climbing down rocks, you should avoid stepping on Englemann Spruce needles. They roll like tiny logs beneath your feet and I nearly slid down the cliff face I was trying to climb down.

Wild flowers are still flourishing up high. Not for much longer though.

One of the other lakes I had been interested in fishing was Jewel Lake. I got withing spitting distance of Jewel and decided to move on to Teal, thinking that I could always stop at Jewel on the way back if  I was so inclined.

I think Jewel Lake was the prettiest one.

Teal Lake

I made it to Teal after passing one more large group of tents. And then found still another group camped on the edge of Teal. I went around to the other side of the lake to try my had at fishing it. I had noticed the day before that my reel was feeling a bit sluggish--hard and jerky to turn the handle--and I had tried spraying some WD-40 inside part of the mechanism. It had seemed to loosen things a bit, so  I thought I'd be okay to take that particular set up on this trip. Unfortunately, it still had problems, This reduced my options to basically putting a hook on and a bubble and tossing it out there hoping a fish would go for the worm on the hook. I was sure glad at that point that I had remembered to go back and get them! Using spinners was out, and bubble with fly  was too, since reeling in slowly and steadily wasn't an option. I tossed the worm out  there and waited. The wind kept changing directions and my line and bubble would sometimes cooperate, and sometimes not. I ended up catching one fish from that lake in about an hour. That's not really what I call good fishing, so I decided to hike out and find another lake along the way in which to fish. I ended up at Cutthroat Lake.

Cutthroat Lake

At Cutthroat Lake the wind was doing the same thing, although I caught two fish in about an hour there, and both of them would have been keepers if I was keeping fish, which I wasn't.

Brook Trout, pan-sized, and I had not brought my backpack stove.

Tiger trout

After I caught those two though, it slowed way down and I decided that I had probably missed the window of opportunity for good fishing on these particular lakes. I often find that early morning fishing and just before dark are the best times to fish, and my hike into the first lake had taken me until about 9:15. Still, I hadn't been skunked. I left Cutthroat, and headed toward Ruth Lake. As I was leaving Cutthroat, I stopped and talked to some Scouts, probably 15-16 year olds and asked them if they had followed a trail up to that lake or had come cross country, telling  them I had been just traveling cross country. One of them spoke up and said that apparently there was a trail, but it added two to three miles to the hike so they did the cross country thing too. He also said that they had had a lot of fishing success at Ruth.
I never found the trail, but just followed my GPS, negotiating the easiest way around boulder strewn ravines and dead trees. When I got back to Ruth Lake, there were tons of people on the western side, so I made my way around to the eastern side to try fishing for a while longer. I probably stayed for another half hour and had no bites. It was clouding up and I decided that since the fishing wasn't all that good, it wasn't worth getting caught in a rainstorm--especially with no dry clothes in the 4runner--I would head out.
Some observations: even at over 10,000 feet, sitting in the direct sunlight was hot. I expected it to be cooler up there. It was cooler than in the valley, but hotter than I expected. Another thing was, I expected a lot more mosquitoes and was pleasantly surprised in that regard. I had sprayed myself with Off before heading up the trail and never had to reapply it. Thirdly, my new Columbia hiking pants are winners. Much cooler than my camo pants, and better than my REI hiking pants. My most important observation though was that even though the fishing wasn't as hot as I would've liked it to be, I still had a great time. It's just nice to be outside doing things in the Uinta Mountains. And the cross country thing always is an adventure, adding unexpected challenges. I'm ready to go again any time.

Ah, the Uintas! I'll see you there!

Mt. Raymond hike: the fourth time's the charm

As I began thinking about the hikes I wanted to do this summer, first and foremost I added Mt. Raymond to the list. Mt. Raymond has been my nemesis. Not because it's a particularly hard peak to bag--it isn't. But because for whatever reason, I had been up there three times previously only to be thwarted in my attempts to reach the top. The first time I went, was way too early and there was still a huge amount of snow along the ridge. I stopped about a quarter mile from the top. The second time I went with my son Ben and we got up near the top, to where you have to do a bit of scrambling, and his tread-less shoes stopped him from proceeding. I didn't want to go on without him, so I turned around at that point too. The third time I went with my brother Mike. He stopped at the saddle between Mt. Raymond and Gobblers Knob and told me he was happy to wait. That time, there was snow up the ridge, but I had a couple of guys up ahead of me breaking the trail, so I followed them. Within about 400 feet of the top, they stopped and gave up. They were much younger than me and I wasn't about to try and prove my manhood by breaking the trail the rest of the way myself. I turned around too.
This time, I made sure I was going late enough in the season that snow wouldn't be a problem. Let me begin at the trailhead.
There are several ways to get to Mt. Raymond. For those who don't know, Mt Raymond is located in the Wasatch Mountains, basically behind Mt. Olympus, which nearly everyone who lives along the Wasatch Front is familiar with. Anyway, it can be reached from either Millcreek Canyon, or Big Cottonwood, and I suppose from Park City if you wanted to walk that far. Many of the trails in the Wasatch are interconnected.The routes most people choose are either Bowman Fork from the Millcreek side, or Butler Fork from the Big Cottonwood side. Though I have been up to Gobblers Knob from Bowman Fork, all of my recent attempts at Mt. Raymond have been from the Butler Fork trail. This one was no exception.
The Butler Fork trail begins rather innocuously about 8 miles up Big Cottonwood Canyon. After about 100 yards, there is a stream crossing and right after that, the trail gets amazingly steep. Large portions of this trail are in the 30 to 45 degree angle range, and a lot of that is early on. In fact, since I already knew this, I nearly changed my hiking plans because I have been having trouble with my legs feeling like lead lately.
The early going on the steepest section (steepest until the final ascent up Raymond's ridge) was rough, but I just took it slow and kept going, resting for a few seconds when necessary, then soldiering on. After about a half hour, I came to a fork in the trail. The right fork leads to Dog Lake, and the left fork goes to Mill A Basin. That's the way to go to get to Mt. Raymond. Soon after the fork, the trail goes up through a kind of meadowy area, with scattered clumps of quakies. The undergrowth is very lush and there are some biting flies in this area. There were wildflowers in abundance here and I especially noted the Queen Anne's Lace and made a mental note to get a picture of it on the way back.

Queen Anne's Lace was in abundance on the lower portions of the trail.

Wildflowers were everywhere and this is my one "accidental" good picture of them close up.

After the meadow area, the trail switchbacks a few times to get to the top of the ridge. As I neared the top of the ridge, I heard some "huffing" behind me. Thinking that it might be a black bear, I increased my pace trying to keep up above and ahead of whatever it was making the noise. A few seconds later, I looked back to see a runner huffing up the trail. We talked for a few seconds, then he went on ahead of me. Just as he was about twenty feet in front of me he said, "there's a bear!"
He kept moving toward whatever he saw. "Don't get too close," I warned him.
"There's a bear down in here, a black bear," he said. I caught a glimpse of something then and it wasn't a bear. "Oh, it's a moose," he said.
He said he'd never seen any moose along this trail I told him that I had. Then he continued on. I was left to reflect as to why he would continue moving closer, especially when he thought it was a bear. Maybe it's because he felt unafraid with me nearby in my Captain America shirt and Indiana Jones hat. I have no other answer.
As the trail joins the ridge, there is a faint un-marked trail to the left that goes to Circle All Peak, which offers a rather nice view of Big Cottonwood Canyon. A great destination for a shorter hike. I had never taken this trail, but I promised myself if I had time I'd do it on the way down. The trail isn't as steep at this point and follows the ridge for a short distance before working its way around a mountain, then up through some quakies to the saddle between Mt. Raymond and Gobblers Knob. This time I made it to the saddle in about two hours. Oddly, the runner was the only person who passed me on my way up. It's usually a fairly popular trail and I was surprised at the low number of people I saw hiking it.

Mount Raymond as seen on the way up.

This little fella landed on me and I took it's picture.

My next step was to follow the ridge to the top. This was the same ridge that had stopped me before when it had snow on it. There wasn't any snow this time. It was go time. My legs had held out this far, and I knew I wasn't going to let them stop me from reaching my goal this particular day. It took me about an hour or so, but I made it to the top. Along the way I passed a couple that were perhaps in their sixties, coming down with two dogs. I asked them if the dogs had made it all the way to the top. "Yes," the man said."They are surprisingly sure-footed". I was petting the one nearest to me, a border collie. They told me to be safe and I told them to do likewise and they headed down.

The south side of Big Cottonwood Canyon is very prominent from the ridge. Here, you are looking toward Sun Dial Peak and the Lake Blanche area.

Some scenic dead trees along the route to the top.

Some of the best flowers were right up on the final ridge.

A few minutes later I was really surprised that the dogs had made it. There was a bit of scrambling and I remembered my younger days when I had taken my dog up Mt. Olympus and had to turn back after reaching the last stretch because the dog couldn't do it. This scrambling wasn't quite as difficult as the Oly scrambling, but it was enough that I was impressed with the dogs.
About 15-20 minutes later, I was up on top, soon joined by another older man. He sat down as I did and he said, "nice of the clouds to protect us a bit from the sun."

Cannister used for writing logs, such as "Wasatch Rebel was here - 7-22-2016" There was no pen in the thing so I didn't write that.

I agreed, stating that as long as I wasn't seeing any lightning, I was good with it too. I asked him if he'd ever been up there before. He told me he had, and I told him that I had been thwarted in my previous attempts.
I ate my lunch and eventually the guy left and I was up there myself. I took several pics with my wife's camera. It's a Nikon Coolpix S6200, and I'm not familiar with it at all. I found myself unable to take any clear close-ups of flowers, except once, by accident. I had left my trusty Canon behind because I didn't want to pack the weight. It's always a trade-off. I know how to use the Canon though, so the quality of my pics would have been a bit easier for me to control. I had figured that since I had been up this trail numerous times, I had already taken most of the pics I would take this time. Of course, it always looks different, so that was just a way to reason myself out of carrying the heavy thing.

Just to prove I was up there.

I looked across the canyon and saw Cardiff Fork, a destination to add to
my bucket list.

Spectacular views of the Wasatch above the timberline

After taking the pics, I headed down, and just before I got to the part where I'd need to do a lot of scrambling, I sat for a while and contemplated my situation.

Wildflowers lined the edge of the ridge, just before I went down the face

The saddle between Raymond and Gobblers Knob

Down below, off the face of the mountain, was a trail that headed over to the Mill B trailhead. If i went down the face instead of the ridge, I might be able to save some time, cut that trail and take it back to the Butler Fork trail. I decided that's what I would do. I found out very soon that it wasn't going to be easy, and a little while longer I found out it wasn't much of a shortcut. The going was steep with loose rock everywhere, and I had to carefully place each footstep to avoid slipping in a cascade of rock. It took me longer than it would've to go down the ridge, though I think I saved a bit in distance doing it that way. At any rate, it was an adventure and once I was five minutes into it, there was no way I was going back up to the trail. I eventually made it to the Mill B trail I had seen from above, certain that I had found no shortcut, but just as certain that I had explored where few had gone before me. There's always a trade-off.

This is where I came down.

And from further away you can see how steep it is, but not how loose
the rocks are beneath the vegetation.

The meadow at the base of Mount Raymond is stunning.

Once on the trail I headed down. It was pretty uneventful until I got to the ridge just above where the guy had seen the "bear". The moose had moved up on top and another one was with it and I spooked them as I walked down the ridge. I tried to be careful as a female moose with a baby can be very protective. I wanted to make sure that wasn't the situation. It appeared that there were two adult females together. Still, I was wary as they were ahead of me, near the trail. I talked softly to them and took some pics, before gradually easing my way past.

This moose had a wound of some kind on its hind quarters.

Another picture of the same moose. Its companion was a little more
camera shy.

Just past the two moose was the spur trail to Circle All Peak. I took it as I had promised myself. It is very short and took me about five minutes to get to the peak where I could peer into the canyon.
I finished the hike about 45 minutes later, tired, but exhilarated. The beauty of the Wasatch never fails to amaze me. And, I had accomplished my main hiking goal of the summer--finally summiting Mount Raymond.