It turns out that I didn't realize until mid-morning on Wednesday that I was supposed to be on PTO all this week. #-o Thursday was spent planning and packing, and by Friday morning we were on the road to Brown's Park.
Brown's Park has been on my list of places to visit for their historical or geologic significance. In this case it was historical. Initially called Brown's Hole, on his exploratory trip down the Green River, John Wesley Powell felt that the name Brown's Park was more fitting. And like just about everything around here that Powell named, the name stuck. This remote 35-mile long, six-mile wide valley straddles the Utah/Colorado border just south of the Wyoming line. As such, along with places like Robbers Roost and Hole-In-The-Wall it was a favorite hideout for many western outlaws, including Butch Cassidy. If Utah sent a posse, slide into Colorado. If Colorado sent a posse, step into Wyoming. Brown's Park is nearly as remote now as it was 150 years ago.
We decided to get there by heading north-northeast from Vernal across the Diamond Mountain plateau and descending into Brown's Park via Crouse Canyon. With each passing mile the road became less and less significant before it degenerated into a narrow unmaintained jeep trail in Crouse Canyon.
The story continues via the photo captions. The linked photos map each's location.
We stopped by Strawberry Reservoir en route to allow the dogs to stretch their legs.
We arrived in Brown's Park where the Green River carves a short course through Swallow Canyon.
We found a great campsite right by a wave train on the northeast shore of the Green River.
Our camp along the Green River.
We found these animal remains among the cliffs near camp. We were told that there's a mountain lion den nearby and that the area is scattered with bones thanks to her handiwork.
The Green heads downstream from camp toward Swallow Canyon.
Sunset from camp.
Sunset from camp.
Saturday morning at camp.
Spots don't get much better than this.
The dogs recreate in the river, careful to avoid the stronger current away from shore.
The dogs recreate in the river, careful to avoid the stronger current away from shore.
Zoe is pooped, and it would only get worse.
A pair of drift boats floated past camp.
A pair of drift boats floated past camp.
The Gates of Lodore, where the Green River exits Brown's Park near the valley's southeast end in Colorado.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
Some desert color.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
The John Jarvie homestead in Brown's Park. Jarvie was a Scotsman who was among the first to settle the valley. He set up a general store and a river ferry. One night, two gunslingers arrived from Rock Springs, Wyo. They got into an argument with Jarvie over the contents of his safe, and shot Jarvie dead. They put his body into a boat and shoved it into the Green River. Searchers found his body when the boat became entangled in the reeds some 25 miles downstream.
As much as I loved our riverside site in Brown's Park, Mrs. Admin insisted upon picking up stakes and spending our second night on the quiet eastern shore of Flaming Gorge Reservoir, some 20 miles to the west of Brown's Park. We've been to Jug Hollow before, so we knew that the peninsula would offer ideal campsites far away from anyone.
Our camp at Flaming Gorge.
Perfect spot, no neighbors.
Mrs. Admin got a bit too much sun.
So did Zoe.
Zoe's giant water bowl.
After a burning hot day, Saturday's sunset arrived at last.
Mrs. Admin the pyromaniac.
We slept in until after 9 a.m. this morning, but knowing that today would be another scorcher we packed up quickly and made our way home the 3.5 hours via Rock Springs, stopping along US-191 to allow a herd of wild horses to cross the road at Miller Mountain.
Brown's Park has been on my list of places to visit for their historical or geologic significance. In this case it was historical. Initially called Brown's Hole, on his exploratory trip down the Green River, John Wesley Powell felt that the name Brown's Park was more fitting. And like just about everything around here that Powell named, the name stuck. This remote 35-mile long, six-mile wide valley straddles the Utah/Colorado border just south of the Wyoming line. As such, along with places like Robbers Roost and Hole-In-The-Wall it was a favorite hideout for many western outlaws, including Butch Cassidy. If Utah sent a posse, slide into Colorado. If Colorado sent a posse, step into Wyoming. Brown's Park is nearly as remote now as it was 150 years ago.
We decided to get there by heading north-northeast from Vernal across the Diamond Mountain plateau and descending into Brown's Park via Crouse Canyon. With each passing mile the road became less and less significant before it degenerated into a narrow unmaintained jeep trail in Crouse Canyon.
The story continues via the photo captions. The linked photos map each's location.
We stopped by Strawberry Reservoir en route to allow the dogs to stretch their legs.
We arrived in Brown's Park where the Green River carves a short course through Swallow Canyon.
We found a great campsite right by a wave train on the northeast shore of the Green River.
Our camp along the Green River.
We found these animal remains among the cliffs near camp. We were told that there's a mountain lion den nearby and that the area is scattered with bones thanks to her handiwork.
The Green heads downstream from camp toward Swallow Canyon.
Sunset from camp.
Sunset from camp.
Saturday morning at camp.
Spots don't get much better than this.
The dogs recreate in the river, careful to avoid the stronger current away from shore.
The dogs recreate in the river, careful to avoid the stronger current away from shore.
Zoe is pooped, and it would only get worse.
A pair of drift boats floated past camp.
A pair of drift boats floated past camp.
The Gates of Lodore, where the Green River exits Brown's Park near the valley's southeast end in Colorado.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
Some desert color.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
The Swinging Bridge is now out of commission, leaving only one passable river crossing in the entirety of Brown's Park. There doesn't appear to be any effort underway to rehabilitate this narrow, barely one-lane wooden bridge.
The John Jarvie homestead in Brown's Park. Jarvie was a Scotsman who was among the first to settle the valley. He set up a general store and a river ferry. One night, two gunslingers arrived from Rock Springs, Wyo. They got into an argument with Jarvie over the contents of his safe, and shot Jarvie dead. They put his body into a boat and shoved it into the Green River. Searchers found his body when the boat became entangled in the reeds some 25 miles downstream.
As much as I loved our riverside site in Brown's Park, Mrs. Admin insisted upon picking up stakes and spending our second night on the quiet eastern shore of Flaming Gorge Reservoir, some 20 miles to the west of Brown's Park. We've been to Jug Hollow before, so we knew that the peninsula would offer ideal campsites far away from anyone.
Our camp at Flaming Gorge.
Perfect spot, no neighbors.
Mrs. Admin got a bit too much sun.
So did Zoe.
Zoe's giant water bowl.
After a burning hot day, Saturday's sunset arrived at last.
Mrs. Admin the pyromaniac.
We slept in until after 9 a.m. this morning, but knowing that today would be another scorcher we packed up quickly and made our way home the 3.5 hours via Rock Springs, stopping along US-191 to allow a herd of wild horses to cross the road at Miller Mountain.
