Tooele County Highpoint: Deseret Peak

Despite growing up within the shadows of Deseret Peak, Tooele County’s highest point, its 11,031-foot-high summit had eluded me. The summit ridge of the Stansbury Range shares many similarities with the high peaks of the central Wasatch Range: glacier-carved peaks and valleys, clear-as-glass alpine lakes, and fragrant flower-filled meadows. The only thing missing are the troves of people that can make an otherwise peaceful wilderness hike feel more like a trip to a crowded amusement park. A recent trip back home to Tooele proved to be the perfect time to see what I had been missing all of these years.

As has been my habit lately, I planned on ascending Deseret Peak starting from the very bottom of the range. This meant riding my mountain bike up the canyon road, rather than driving, to get to the hiking trailhead. With an early start, I left my car behind at a small parking area near the junction of South Willow Canyon and Mormon Trail roads. Working into a comfortable pedal rhythm, I steadily climbed toward the mouth of South Willow where pinion, juniper, and cottonwood trees partially obscure several private cabins. Just past the cabins, pavement turns to dirt as you enter the Wasatch-Cache National Forest. A prominent ledge of white, heavily pitted, volcanic rock streaks awkwardly across the north side of the canyon prior to passing the charming and well-kept South Willow Guard Station.

Continuing up canyon, the rich aroma of sizzling sausage and pancakes originating from one of several campgrounds filled the canyon bottom, making it even harder to choke down the last bite of my on-the-go Pop-Tarts breakfast.

Less than a half mile past the guard station near the Medina Flat trailhead, I was surprised to find that the Forest Service had gated and closed the upper half of the canyon (as of 7/9/2009). A press release attached to the gate states that until repairs can be made to the flood-damaged road, the area behind the gate will be off-limits to any motorized vehicles. Walking my bike around the gate, I continued up canyon.

The last two miles of the canyon road take you through two sets of short limestone narrows that are just wide enough for the road and the cold, bubbling South Willow Creek, which up to this point goes largely unnoticed. After a set of switchbacks, the grade steepens as you enter the aspen-enshrouded Loop Campground, and finally to the top of the loop where two newer outhouses and ample parking mark the trailhead for Deseret Peak. Here, I found a hiding place for my bike, changed into my hiking shoes, chomped down an apple, and headed up the trail.

Navigation on the trail is a cinch - every trail junction is well signed. The trail splits just after crossing a perennial creek less than 1 mile into the hike. I chose to go left up Mill Fork which is the quickest and most straightforward route to the top. If you do the suggested loop hike, this is where you will close the loop on the descent.

As you gain altitude in Mill Fork, sweeping views of the Stansbury's central massif become frequent. Looking back down Mill Fork, the conspicuously wide "U"-shaped form of the valley is proof that huge earth-gouging glaciers once flowed here during the last Ice Age more than 12,ooo years ago.

Tight, steep, and loose switchbacks lead up the headwall of Mill Fork to a saddle where the trail again splits. Veer west on the right fork and climb to the mountain’s summit ridge where you will be greeted with your first views to west toward Skull Valley, the Cedar Mountains, and the featureless Great Salt Lake Desert in the distance. The trail follows the summit ridge northward skirting around a false summit and passes a small saddle. Be sure to take a few steps off the trail to this saddle for an impressive view straight down into the steep-walled cirque at the head of Dry Lake Fork. A cirque is where the highest and thickest part of a glacier carves out a bowl in the bedrock that later fills with water forming a lake. The picturesque North and South Willow Lakes a few miles to the north are good examples of cirque lakes. For some reason the cirque basin below here rarely holds water, thus the name Dry Lake Fork. From the Dry Lake overlook it's less than a half mile to Deseret Peak.





Once on top, I snacked on crackers and soaked in the vistas. Don’t miss the stone shelter on the peak’s southwest side that was originally built by a surveying crew in the late 1800s. Through the summer haze, I could make out the Wasatch Range rising to the east beyond the subordinate Oquirrh Mountains. To the north, brilliant white salt flats provide much-needed contrast to a rather monotonous scene where Great Salt Lake waters transition seamlessly with the identically hued sky. Looking closely at the Cambrian-age Tintic Quartzite that composes the summit ridge to north, you may notice that the rock layers are tilted toward the west. If you follow the intervening ridge between South Willow and Mining Fork canyons to the east, note how these same layers tilt steeply in the opposite direction. This large dome-shaped fold, or anticline, runs along the range crest for several miles. The thick section of very durable Tintic Quartzite exposed in the core of this fold does not erode easily and is likely responsible for much of the range’s height.

The quickest way back to the trailhead is to retrace your steps, but I highly recommend tacking on an extra half mile and continue following the summit trail to the north as I did. After passing around the west side of a couple of small peaks, the trail drops down into yet another previously glaciated valley: Pockets Fork. After a half-mile hike down Pockets Fork, turn right at another trail junction and head south toward Dry Lake Fork where the best views yet of the impressively steep and rugged east face of Deseret Peak will unfurl before you. If hiking in late summer, you can expect wildflowers here to be waist high. The trail crosses a few creeks then heads eastward back to the first trail junction and finally to the trailhead.

Despite being a holiday, the only other people I saw on the trail were a couple dragging some rather stubborn pack goats (that appeared to be causing more trouble than help) up the trail.

After recovering my stashed bike, I finished off the last of my water, strapped on biking shoes and coasted down the bumpy road. Just as I was approaching warp speed down a straight-away section of the road, I spotted a stick across the road that could be easily cleared with a little bunny hop. But just as I got close enough to initiate my launch, the stick moved! The realization that this was a rattlesnake created an instant surge of adrenaline, and let me tell you, I think I could have cleared a three-foot-high log!

Final Adventure Stats:
Miles Traveled: 22.25 total (14.5 bike/8.75 hike)
Elevation Gained (feet): 6350 total (2300 bike/4050 hike)
Time (hours): 7 total (2.5 bike/4.5 hike)

If You Go:
From Main Street in Grantsville, turn south onto West Street which eventually turns into Mormon Trail Road once outside of town. Five miles from Main Street, look for the signed turnoff for South Willow Canyon. The normal trailhead for Deseret Peak is 7 miles up the canyon where the road ends at the top of the Loop Campground. Call (801) 558-8016 to check on the status of the road closure above Medina Flat. If forced to begin at Medina Flat, add on another two miles of road walking to get to the trailhead. Most reasonably fit hikers should be able to complete the 8.75-mile loop in 4 to 6 hours.

Zion's Grand Loop: The Narrows and Orderville Gulch

Zion National Park, with nearly 2.5 million yearly visitors, is one of the most heavily-visited parks in the National Park System. The large crowds along with the resultant shuttle and backcountry permit systems devised to lessen the impact of said crowds, had always turned me off to exploring much of the park.

I eventually realized that these things are really not nuisances at all (the shuttle buses are actually way more convenient than negotiating the narrow roads and limited parking areas with your car). And despite the crowded conditions at many of the main attractions off of the Scenic Drive, there is vast acreage elsewhere in the park that will satisfy the staunchest of solitude seekers.

Once past these unfounded hang-ups, I decided I had to do the crown jewel of Zion - the infamous Narrows of the North Fork of the Virgin River. But is it truly the best hike Zion has to offer? After some research I discovered that many Zion regulars declare Orderville Gulch, a large tributary to the North Fork, as one of the "must-do" hikes in Zion. So which hike was I to do? I decided to try and do both, and not only that, but both in one day.

The Zion Narrows is typically done in two days with a camp midway through the canyon. Orderville Gulch is a bit shorter but still described as a long day hike. Could it be done? After a few hours of research I came up with my plan: leave a mountain bike at the top of Orderville Gulch in the evening, camp at the upper North Fork trailhead, start out down the Narrows at 5 am and hopefully get to the confluence with Orderville Gulch with enough daylight to hike up Orderville Gulch to my bike and cruise back to my car at the North Fork trailhead.


Above: with my bike in place, a good night's rest, and plenty of energy to burn, I was off before sun-up as planned.

The first few miles give little indication of the huge chasm that you soon enter. Here, the North Fork meanders through broad grass-covered meadows - perfect for grazing cattle which were plentiful.

Above: the old Bulloch cabin on the edge of a mountain meadow near the North Fork.


Before you know it, sheer walls of Navajo Sandstone tower overhead and you're forced to walk right in the cold river.








Above: the confluence with Deep Creek. Here, the flow of the river is nearly doubles.




Above: a short "subway" section.




I knew I had to move fast if I was going to complete the loop before dark. I was able to run on the more stable sand and gravel bars. But it was slow-going when the river is wall-to-wall, covering slippery unseen boulders. A trekking or old ski pole (or two) is a must to maintain balance.

By 9:30 I had started to catch up to hikers that had started the day before; so far, so good - ahead of schedule.


Above: refilling the Camelbak at the luxuriant Big Springs.


Above: yellow and red Columbine line the canyon wall in one of the deepest parts of the Narrows.

Below: Even with stopping to take quite a few photos, I flew through the Narrows to the mouth of Orderville Gulch in about 6 hours and I was feeling pretty confident at this point. But it didn't take long for my plans to unravel.

The first mile or so of Orderville is spectacular. Lots of wading and scrambling over small waterfalls, and even a couple of short swims. Unfortunately, my adventure came to a premature end when I got to a relatively short chokestone and waterfall that I could not pass. I believe in the past that this could be climbed, but recent floods had deeply scoured out the plunge pool (the water was well over my head) and I couldn't reach any hand holds, no boulders to chimney, no nothing - I was toast. There was no way I was going to backtrack against the current all the way back to my car.

Defeated, with my tail between my legs, I had to bail out back to the North Fork and down to the Temple of Sinawava where I caught a shuttle to the Visitor Center and begrudgingly called Sue (I hate having to get bailed out by my wife!) for a ride.

Not all was lost. I was able to check the Zion Narrows off my need-to-do list, and I got to see a good chunk of the equally exciting Orderville Gulch. I'm determined to see the rest of the Gulch, but I think I'll try it from the top.