Mount Aire

Unfortunately I didn't make it out hiking very much last year. Maybe two or three trips, and they were all to places I'd been before so there was no need to post about them.

This year I want to be sure to do more hiking so I figured it would be best to start early. But, since it's already a couple months too late to start early I figured I'd just start now. 

And where to start? How about at the beginning of the alphabet. I've always wanted to climb Mount Aire but have never had the available time coincide with the proper motivation. It's a little farther away than most of the hikes I've done, and involves paying a fee to get into (well, out of) the canyon. Plus there are dogs. Dogs are supposed to be leased on even days, but I've never once seen a dog on a leash in the whole canyon regardless of the day.

The hike to Mount Aire is steep. It climbs nearly 2000 vertical feet in about 1.8 miles (2 if you believe the sign), giving it an average slope of about 20%. With an average stride length of 2.5 feet that means you're climbing 6 inches with every step. It's a tough hike.

I was able to get up the canyon by about 4:30, took a few minutes to change my shoes and change into my kilt (which is easy to do even just standing next to your car). But I failed to realize that it's still winter; maybe the 90 degree days were throwing me off. Apparently the top half of the canyon stays closed till July 1st, so I encountered a gate across the road about a mile and a half short of the trailhead.

So I started walking up the road the mile and a half to the trailhead, then started on the trail about 5:05pm. The trail was very well-maintained and easy to follow. It was steep with an occasional steeper section, but it wasn't too bad. 

I'd tell you exactly how far things were and how steep and all that, but I neglected to recharge my GPS batteries the night before and it died within a few minutes.

After a quarter mile or so the trail splits with the right fork going to Lamb's Pass and the other continuing up to Mount Aire. Shortly after the junction (or possibly before, I can't remember) there was a bit of a meadow area. Everywhere else the trees were thick and the trail was shady.

After some amount of hiking (I'd say about 2/3 the distance) I made it to the pass. From there the trail to the peak branches off to the right (shown above). It didn't appear that Spring had quite hit that far up, and the big leafy trees from the lower half of the trail gave way to short scrub brush. The trail also became much more overgrown with small branches clawing at my bare legs. On the plus side, the trail didn't seem as steep between the pass and the peak.

The trail even had a few switchbacks, making the ascent a bit easier. And, unlike many other peaks in the Wasatch, the trail was distinguishable right up to the peak. There were also great views along this section looking South to the mountains between Millcreek and Big Cottonwood Canyons. There was still quite a bit of snow on the North-facing slopes.

At around 6:45 I finally made it to the peak, which was a ridiculously slow pace for me. But considering how out of shape I've become and that this was my first hike this year, and throwing in the fact that the trail was unnaturally steep, I think I did okay.

I left the peak at 7:05pm and descended uneventfully. On the way up I only saw two other people (and two dogs). On the way down I saw 4 groups of people. There was a group of 33 college-aged guys carrying packs with at least a week's worth of stuff in them, which seemed odd for a 2-mile hike. There was a family of 4 (plus 2 dogs) setting up camp at the top end of the meadow, and 2 college-aged women carrying appropriately-sized packs. There was also a couple (with 2 dogs) right at the trailhead reading the sign. I was going to try to talk them out of doing the hike since it's so steep, but figured they'd learn that on their own soon enough.

From the trailhead I decided to take the Pipeline Trail back down to the car, mostly so I didn't have to walk on the road. I wasn't sure where the trail reconnected with the road, but I knew that it met up with the trail that goes up to Grandeur Peak. That trail was only a couple miles below where I parked so even if I had to go clear down there and walk (or hitchhike) back up I knew I'd be fine. My legs still felt pretty good and I knew the road wasn't very steep.

About 1.5 miles into the trail, though, I started panicking a bit. I had expected the trail to mostly follow the road, so I assumed it would be about the same distance. I also expected the trail to descend at the same slope as the road, but for a mile and a half the trail seemed to stay completely level, even going up a bit in a few places. I knew that I was at least 700 vertical feet above the parking lot and wondered how steep the descent would have to be when the trail finally started descending.

After just a brief moment of freaking out I was able to find a spot with a weak internet signal through which I was able to pull up a map of the canyon. It reassured me that there was indeed an outlet to the road just below the parking lot (well, 1/2 mile or so), and that the trail really did descend to meet the road. With that reassurance I continued down the trail to the road, walked back up to the car, and headed home.

I've not done much hiking in Millcreek Canyon, mostly because of the dogs and because the bottom half of the canyon, where I've hiked before, are pretty ugly. This hike gave me a new appreciation for the canyon and I'm excited to return and test out some other trails.

In all, I hiked about 9 miles, climbing at least 2700 feet. When the gate is open you could expect to hike 4 miles, climbing just under 2000 feet. Keep in mind that they charge a fee of $3 per vehicle as you EXIT the canyon,

Rainbow Rim (Grand Canyon)

I'm really getting behind in my posts. Hopefully I can catch up soon.

Back in June I went with some friends to Kamas with the hopes of doing Buckskin Gulch, one of the longest slot canyons in the world. We had a permit for our entire group, all the equipment we'd need, and two cars to be able to do a shuttle from one end to the other. The only thing we didn't have was clear skies.

The night before we were scheduled to drop into the gulch there was a flash flood. The ranger warned us that there would be knee-deep mud, shoulder-deep nasty pools, and possibly areas that were completely blocked off. Oh, and the road was washed out so we'd have to approach through Arizona.

After much thought and deliberation we determined that the dangers weren't worth the risk and that we'd try again another year. But we still had our backpacks loaded and ready to go so we had to find somewhere equally spectacular. The ranger suggested the Rainbow Rim in North Kaibab National Forest. It sounded like what we were looking for so we loaded back up and headed south to Arizona.

The Kaibab National Forest surrounds Grand Canyon National Park, and has a few areas that actually overlook the canyon. The Rainbow Rim is one of those areas. There are five big "fins" that stick out into the canyon with roads that head out to each one. There's a hiking/biking trail that connects each of the trailheads.

It's very primitive; we drove 40 miles on dirt roads to get there (they were nice dirt roads, though). There were so few people out there it was a little eerie. We hiked along the north rim of the Grand Canyon for 18.5 miles and only saw a handful of other people.

We drove both vehicles to the northernmost trailhead, then loaded everyone up into the truck and drove to the southernmost trailhead 20 miles away.

The hiking was pretty flat, but there were some places where we climbed a few hundred feet at a time. Looking at the map, we realized there would be 2 good places to sleep where we would likely have a great view of the canyon. The first was about 9 miles in and it would have been ideal. There were a few people who had driven in to that point and set up camp, but we could have shared the views. The problem was that 9 miles in would only put us halfway to the end of the trail.

We pushed on to the second area that looked good on the map that was about 12.5 miles in. It was a difficult first day, but it set us up really well for the hike out.

After we had camp set up and ate dinner we wandered around a bit looking for a good place to watch the sun set. We found a particularly perfect spot on a fin sticking about 100 feet out farther into the canyon with 1000' drops on 3 sides. It was amazing to see the light work its way across the formations in the canyon until the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

I was able to hang my hammock about 4' from the rim of the Grand Canyon. I would have been able to look out at the canyon all night but just before bed scattered rain storms came across the canyon (which was cool to see). Even though none of them hit us I figured it would make a lot of sense to put up the tarp just in case.

The next morning we packed up and started on the trail. We only had 6 miles to go to make it to the car and the end of the trail. We didn't stop much, except to take pictures at some amazing overlooks.

We all piled in the car and made the 20 mile drive to the truck back where we started. With about 5 miles left to go it started to hail. It varied between pea-sized and marble-sized, but there was so much of it the road turned into a river of hail. We were involved in what was going to become a flash flood downstream. It kept hailing for 20-30 minutes, during which time some of us had to jump out, grab packs from the trunk, and get in the truck. Fortunately I was driving the car and got to stay dry.

We heading back up the dirt road to Freedonia, then across the border to Kamas, and eventually to Parowan where we parted ways after an amazing adventure. We hiked (according to my GPS) 18.5 miles, climbing a few thousand feet (hard to say for sure), but ending up at the same elevation we started at. This was my first time seeing the Grand Canyon, but I can guarantee it won't be my last.

Pacific Crest Trail - Miles 324-342

For those of you who may not be familiar with the Pacific Crest Trail, it's a trail (unsurprisingly) that roughly follows the Pacific Crest, a chain of mountain ranges in California, Oregon, and Washington. The trail start at the Mexican border and ends at the Canadian border 2668ish miles away. As long as I've known about the trail I've wanted to hike the whole thing, whether in one 5-month epic journey or in the occasional weekend/weeklong trip.

Well, I finally got a chance to do a small part of the trail (about 0.7%). That's a pretty good start, though, right?

Annie won a ticket to a conference being held in California last weekend and things worked out such that we were both able to go. Because of the location of the conference we'd need to pass through Cajon Pass both going and coming back. Cajon Pass is where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses I-15, and there just happens to be a hotel there.

I'd been debating which section of trail to hike; there were a lot of things to consider: it's early in the season so my body may not be up to a long hike, but I had 32 hours to both hike and sleep and I wanted to make the most of it. I'd have to do a certain number of miles the first day to be able to find a suitable camping spot, so I'd have to be sure that the total miles for each day wouldn't be too much, or take too much time given the time constraints I had.

After much deliberation I settled on an 18-mile stretch between PCT Miles 324 and 342 (according to the quasi-official Halfmile maps (that would be starting 324 miles from the Mexican border). I had Annie drop me off on the side of Highway 173 just West of the Cedar Springs Spillway at Silverwood Lake. The weather report (which had been spectacular every day leading up to the day I left) said there would be high winds and a chance of rain. That's the first time I can remember the weather report being so right.

One unique aspect of long distance trails is that people who live near the trails like to do nice things for the hikers, helping them out however they can, often referred to as "trail magic". One common way they do this is by leaving food or water (sometimes ice cold) at places where hikers could use a boost. Not a half mile into my hike I came across my first "trail magic". There was a color with some fruit and bottles of water. There was also a notebook to sign in on; these notebooks act as registers so you can tell who's ahead of you on the trail. As I looked through the pages I noticed that only one person had passed before me that day.

The hiking was pretty easy, even with my heavyish pack. With water it was probably close to 30 pounds. It certainly could have been a lot heavier, but I'm hoping to get it lighter one day, too. Just a couple miles in I ran into a guy coming the other way. He looked like a very seasoned hiker; probably a few years younger than me. He asked if I was a thru-hiker (someone who does the whole trail non-stop in one season). I told him I was just doing a small section, but he still seemed excited to talk to me. He hiked the entire trail in 2014 and was doing certain sections southbound this year to try to run into as many thru hikers as he could. I wanted to ask if he ever worked, but it didn't flow naturally into the conversation. He was a very nice guy, though, and gave me a lot of good information about the miles to come.

The next couple miles followed the West side of Silverwood Lake, meandering around all the inlets, staying at about the same elevation for miles. 4.5 miles from where I started I came across the Cleghorn Picnic area, which looked really nice except for the heavy machinery ripping up the parking lot. I would have stopped anyway, just to check it out, but I knew I had a lot of miles to hike before dark. I didn't want to be setting up camp after the sun went down.

As I passed the picnic area, the trail ducked under Highway 138. As I was crossing past the exit ramp on the far side, trying to find the sign showing me where the trail went, a truck stopped at the intersection across from me. An older man hopped out of the driver's side and yelled across the road to me, "Hey, would you like an ice cold soda?"

That's all the invitation I needed. "I would love one," I replied. He opened up the back door of the truck and started digging through his cooler. In all he gave me a Ginger Ale (first one I've ever had; it was actually very refreshing), a Lunchables tuna pack, and a can of Pineapple juice. He said that he and his wife like to keep things on hand this time of year to give to the hikers as they come through the campground.

He also gave me directions on where I could top off my water supply, and how to rejoin the trail farther up the road. I was amazed at his generosity, even though I was only doing a night out on the trail.

I filled up my water, drank the Ginger Ale (while there were still garbage cans around to put the trash in), and kept hiking up the campground road to meet back up with the PCT. At one point it looked like I should have already passed where the road met the trail so I backtracked a bit looking for the sign, but couldn't find it. Eventually I just decided to keep heading up the road, and it wasn't long before I saw the trail again.

The trail is designed for hikers and horses so the average grade is less than 10% all along the trail (as far as I know). Most of the trails I hike here in Utah have a grade between 15% and 25%, sometimes more, so it was really nice to be on a trail that wasn't too steep. Of course the downside of the shallow grade is the distance. To climb up on top of a ridge the trail would wind around the canyon a couple times; never steeply, but it sometimes felt like I was walking miles to avoid a 25% quarter mile.

The trail eventually made its way out of the canyon with the campground and I was feeling really good. I had already hiked more than 8 miles, nearly half what I'd need to hike to make it to the hotel, and my body was in great shape. My feet didn't hurt, my back felt fine, my legs had all the energy I needed. I didn't expect to be feeling so good so early in the year. Maybe the elevation helped a little, too.

I started down into the next canyon and decided to have a "shoes off" break. I found a nice rock to sit on and took off my shoes and socks so I could check my feet for blisters or hot spots. They were just fine. I ate a Power Bar and took a few minutes to relax before hitting the trail again.

From the preparation I had done, I knew that the trail dropped to the bottom of Little Horsethief Canyon and that there should be good places to camp at the bottom. My goal for the day was to get there. The trail stubbornly stayed near the top of the ridge for miles, though. Finally, about 11.5 miles from where I started, I got to the bottom of the canyon and started looking around for a place to camp.

This year I added a hammock to my backpacking gear. Technically, it's a hammock, straps, a bugnet, and a tarp. All of that still weighs less than my tent, and is so much more comfortable. The only trick is finding a place to string it up. I also brought along a ground tarp to sleep on just in case I couldn't find any suitable trees, but I really wanted to sleep in the hammock.

After nearly a half hour of wandering I came across the only set of trees that would work. It was a really tight area, though, and took some real imagination to get the tarp to fit in between all the other trees. I wouldn't have bothered with the tarp if the weather had been better, but with the high winds and the possibility of rain I didn't want to risk not having protection.

Because the site was so tight I didn't have anywhere to set my stove to cook dinner so I just held it on my lap for the 3 minutes it took for the water to boil (JetBoils are great). Then, while the food rehydrated, I finished setting up camp: inflating my sleeping pad, pulling out the sleeping bag, etc.

I ate dinner, changed clothes, and climbed into the sleeping bag, only to get up another dozen times to adjust the tarp. Some time well after sunset I finally found the right fallen tree branches to attach it to (the ground was too cluttered to use stakes), and I put in my earplugs to drown out the wind and went to sleep. 

The next morning I woke up and checked my work e-mails. Yes, sadly I had cell service and a lot of code at work that had to be checked. I laid in the hammock a bit longer and actually fell asleep again. I had to have slept nearly nine hours. My typical night's sleep is 6.5-7 hours, and drops to 3 when I sleep in a tent. I'm glad I took the extra time to find a hammock site.

It didn't take long to break camp and eat some breakfast. I changed back into my hiking clothes and started back on the trail. Within a mile I felt two nice big fat blisters appear on my feet. It wasn't a surprise, I guess, but it made the last 6 miles difficult.

The trail started getting into areas with a little more human activity. There were some dirt roads with ATVs and motorcycles driving up and down, power lines running overhead, and the regular blowing of a train whistle.  The miles were much more difficult than they were the day before, but I still kept up a good 2.5mi/hr pace.

The wind was ferocious, though. It was blowing in from the South and would hammer the South-facing slopes. The trail moved from one side of the ridge to the other, shielding me from the wind half the time and throwing me to the wolves the other half. Of course, then there were the times when the trail went right on top of the ridge and the wind would blow even harder.

Still, the whole hike I felt very fortunate to be able to be out there, and experienced a few hours of absolute peace. I had no worries or problems except to figure out what I was going to order at the McDonald's restaurant at Cajon Pass.

Just before the trail ducks under I-15 there's a sign showing the distance to Canada: 2296 miles. I be back to finish those miles another day.

Just past that last sign the trail splits.

It was .4 miles to the McDonald's where I ordered a Jalapeno double, a ten pack of McNuggets, a large fry and a drink. Then topped it off later with a McFlurry. Mmm... It was enough food that I even skipped dinner entirely.

It felt really awkward walking into the McDonald's, though. I was the only smelly hiker in there, and felt about 10 feet tall. Everyone was staring at me. It was an odd feeling. After I ordered, though, an older guy came up and introduced himself as a hiker. He was coming from the North and had already spent the night, and was planning to spend the next night as well. He told me all about the conditions for the next 50 miles, what places to be sure to see, where to camp, how the water sources looked. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was done, but he made me feel much less out-of-place while I waited for my food.

I spent about an hour at McDonald's eating and making people feel awkward, then started walking up the street to the hotel. It was a steep road, and my feet were killing me. Just a little past the McD's a guy in a pickup truck beckoned me over. We talked for a bit. He asked if I was a thru hiker and what my plans were. He said he was out there to find hikers and supply them with treats. The entire passenger seat was filled with candy bars, cookies, fruit, etc. He offered me whatever I wanted, but I declined since I was already done hiking. It amazed me that he'd give up his Saturday to go sit by the side of the road hoping to help someone out.

As I limped into the hotel the lady behind the desk offered me the hiker rate ($10ish less than the AAA rate). I told her I was done with my hike and didn't deserve the hiker rate--I wasn't going on--but she insisted that I was a hiker no matter how few miles I walked.

It was a great hike, and a great way to start my hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. I hiked 18 PCT miles (about 19.5 total miles), climbed 3000 feet, and slept like a baby for 9 hours. Just 2650 miles to go.

Red Pine Lake...in a Kilt

It has been a month since this hike and I can't remember all the details, but it's slowly coming back to me as I look at the pictures.

Since I started hiking a few years back I've always wanted to see Red Pine Lake up Little Cottonwood Canyon. I came close last year, but the snow got too thick about a quarter mile short of the lake. My first thought on this trip was to spend the night at the lake, but with the limited daylight in October, and the fact that I'd have to leave for the canyon after work, (and the possible cold temperatures) I decided to just head up and back.

Another reason I was excited about this hike is that it would be my first opportunity to hike in my new kilt. I was a little nervous stepping out of the car with a kilt, but by a mile in I felt completely comfortable. I would estimate that only 10-20% of the people I passed even noticed I was in a kilt, and not one of them said a thing. It was a busy day on the trail, too; I probably passed more than 100 people.

The trail to Red Pine Lake is very easy to follow with the exception of the part with an actual sign. About a mile in there trail splits: The trail on the left goes to White Pine Lake, and the trail on the left goes to Red Pine Lake. Technically, the trail to Red Pine is the second left, but it's not real clear unless you've been there before.

I passed a couple looking at the sign trying to figure out which trail to take. I would have stopped to help, but it sounded like they just weren't sure which lake they wanted to hike to. I took the second left up the switchback, crossed the bridge over the creek, and kept heading up the trail. As I recall, it was about 3.5 miles to the lake, give or take a half mile. There were steep parts and less-steep parts.

I wasn't entirely impressed by the lake at first: it was October so the level of the water was pretty low. After passing to the other side of the lake and looking back, though, it impressed me much more. There were great reflections of the surrounding peaks in the lake and, well, maybe it was because the trail was flat as it passed to the other side of the lake.

As I started climbing the hill toward Upper Red Pine Lake I came across a dozen deer just hanging out. They just stayed there no matter how close I got. I probably could have jumped on top and rode one of them. It was crazy how close they let me get. I came across the whole herd again on the way back down. (I think this picture is from the way back down).

I came up a little short of Upper Red Pine Lake. The sun was setting too fast and the last half mile of trail was a bit more cross-country than I wanted to navigate in the dark. So with the lake almost within view I turned around and headed back down the mountain. It got cold as soon as the sun set, too, especially wearing a kilt. I had to put on my headlamp about 2 miles from the car, and couldn't see past the light reflecting off my breath in front of me.

I made it back to the car in complete darkness and went home. The total distance was about 8.3 miles with about 2300 feet of elevation gain. I'll definitely be back to spend the night some time. And I'll definitely be wearing my kilt.

Not Everybody Loves Raymond

A couple weeks ago Annie and I set out to hike Mount Raymond. Well, our first thought was Timpanogos, but as it got closer and more obligations set in both before and after the hike we knew our time would be more limited than we would like so we opted for a shorter (though maybe not much easier) hike up Butler Fork to Mount Raymond.

The trail starts at a smallish commonly overlooked parking lot just before the dogleg in Big Cottonwood Canyon. It's on the North side of the road and there are usually enough parking places for everyone hiking the trail. From time to time you'll see cars parked on the other side of the road, but not very often.

The Butler Fork trail, like most other trails in the Wasatch Mountains, starts out steep and gets steeper. There is a section in the first half mile of the trail that really makes you question your sanity, but it also lets you know why they've never bothered to build a bigger parking lot.

The trail goes about a mile (I can't remember exact distances and I'm too lazy to go get my GPS) and splits. The left fork continues up toward Mount Raymond (the Mill A Basin, specifically), and the right goes up toward Dog Lake. I've taken both trails. They're both steep but beautiful.

There are many (I lost count) switchbacks another half mile up the trail that seem to go on and on. At the last switchback there's a trail that goes south toward Circle All Peak. We didn't go that way this time, but I describe it pretty well in one of last year's posts.

After the switchbacks end the trail stays on top of a ridge running North and South. It's nearly flat and there are incredible views in both directions. This is the first glimpse you get of the Mill A Basin to the West with  Mount Raymond looming over it. When I hiked this trail last year I was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see more of Mill A (I went East instead of West from here). It was nice to get the chance to see it close up and with all the Fall colors.

At the North end of the ridge the trail ends at a junction with the Desolation trail running East and West. To get to Mount Raymond (or Gobblers Knob) go West. East will take you to Dog Lake and eventually to Desolation Lake.

The steepness of the first part of the trail had taken its toll on us and we were pretty worn out at this point and started making backup plans. I knew that the trail would lead us to a saddle between Mount Raymond and Gobblers Knob, and that we'd probably have great views there and enough of a sense of accomplishment that we could go home feeling good about ourselves, so we set our goal to make it to the saddle and save the peak for another day.

The views were amazing as we traversed the basin and switched back up onto the saddle. We sat down for a few minutes and had some food. After resting for a bit we decided to push on and at least see what the trail was like a bit farther up so we'd know what to expect for next time.

We didn't make it too far before the steepness and rockiness were too much to keep the hiking fun, so we turned around and headed back. If I recall correctly, we hike about 7.5 miles and climbed about 3000 feet. It was a grueling day but I'm glad we were able to hike together. Maybe we'll be able to finish our hike to the peak next year.

Beartrap Fork

A couple weeks ago I pulled myself away from my busy summer and headed out to the mountains. The days were already starting to get short so I knew I'd need to find a shortish hike. For some reason I decided to hike Beartrap Fork near Solitude in Big Cottonwood Canyon

Aside from the incredible views at the top I can't think of a single reason to hike this one again. Yeah, it was pretty, there were tons of trees, there was nobody else on the trail. All that's true, but the trail was so steep and overgrown that I had a hard time getting into a rhythm.

It might have also been the fact that it had been 5 weeks since my last hike. I'm still not sure how I missed 5 summer weeks of hiking, but I did.

The trail starts at an ominous looking gate about a mile and a half past the turn off for the Spruces campground, and about a mile and a half before Solitude's lower parking lot. There's no parking lot or sign, you just have to pull over at the right time and look for the sign above.

There were good views all the way up, but plenty of tree cover for hiking the trail during the day. The trail is pretty easy to follow, but there are a few places that are overgrown, and quite a few small trees blocking the trail. There's not anything that's hard to get past, but it wears on you a bit as you're climbing.

With all the rain we've had this summer the trail was still pretty wet; not muddy, but wet enough to be slippery. There are parts of the trail that are pretty flat, but the respite you get from those parts is more than made up for by the steep parts.

The last half mile before reaching the junction with the Wasatch Crest Trail is pretty much just straight up the side of the mountain. There's a trail, but it doesn't seem to be strictly followed by most people at this point. This part of the trail is out of the trees as well, which would make for some miserable hiking during the heat of the day. Fortunately I was racing the sunset and the heat wasn't a worry.

After a little over 2 miles of hiking the trail meets up with the Wasatch Crest Trail, which is primarily a mountain biking trail from Guardsman's Pass to Millcreek Canyon. I'd love to ride it one day, but for now I'm fine staying on my feet.

After a short, nearly level walk from the trail junction I found myself overlooking Desolation Lake. I had stood in this exact place a couple years before, but took the Mill D North trail instead. That hike is easily one of my favorites in the Wasatch. If I ever decide to see Desolation Lake again I bet you can guess which trail I'll take.

 Despite all the negative things I have to say about Beartrap Fork, it was a very pretty hike, and it got me to a beautiful overlook in half the distance it would have taken from Mill D. Of course, that came at a cost. I hiked 4.5 miles and climbed over 2,300 feet (21% average grade). I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a good workout or someone who wants to hike a trail without having to say hello to anyone.

Clayton Peak 2.0

On Tuesday my friend Casey and I headed out again to nearly the same place. Two weeks ago we parked at Brighton and headed West up to Mount Millicent. This time we went East to the top of Clayton Peak (Mount Majestic) on the Lake Mary trail.

We carpooled up the canyon and got a pretty early start. We were hiking by about 5:30pm and made good time up the first mile to the Dog Lake junction. With it being late and both of us being a bit out of shape we didn't even look out over the overlook because we knew we'd need to hurry to get back to the car before dark.

The trail is moderately steep until the junction with the Dog Lake trail, but after turning off on the trail to Dog Lake, then almost immediately turning left on the Clayton Peak trail, we hiked on relatively flat ground for almost a mile. The wildflowers and wildlife were all on display. One of the benefits of hiking during the week is that there's nobody around to scare the deer away.

We made great time between Dog Lake and Snake Creek Pass. Casey had never hiked this trail and was very impressed with the views from on top of the pass. We were able to see most of the Heber Valley (which may just be the most beautiful valley in the state) including some of Deer Creek Reservoir.

The pass sits at 10,019 feet according to my GPS, even though the sign at the top says 10,200'. Looking up at the 10,700 foot peak from the pass made it painfully obvious that the GPS was right and we still had 700 vertical feet to climb. At least we didn't have to walk far for all that climbing. Most of it was done in less than 1/4 mile.

We had great views from the top, even being able to see the Easternmost tip of Jordanelle Reservoir to the East. We saw more lakes from the top of the peak than we saw people on the trail.

The hike back down was uneventful (except for my slight detour to check out the trail up from the other side of the pass). We hiked about 6.5 miles and climbed about 2000'.