Labor Day weekend, so we had to get out of Dodge. We were looking to stay remote, so we opted for the Erickson Lakes in the far western end of the Uinta Mountains. Stephan and I hatched plans, and his friend Natalie came along for her virgin backpacking trip.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source= ... 8&t=p&z=14
Hard to believe that this area is only 45 minutes from Salt Lake City. Or it would've been, were it not for the last 7 miles on Norway Flat "Road" east of Samak, rising north from Mirror Lake Highway (UT 150) which took 90 minutes to negotiate. Most hiking trails I've been on are smoother!
This road is completely impassable without a high clearance 4x4. We only hit bottom once, at a spot near the end where folks had already stacked rocks to smooth the drop off a ledge. The thought of trying to get back up that spot lingered in my head all weekend.
But we made it to the end, beyond which motorized travel is prohibited, and booted up to hit the trail. The trail first drops precipitously into a gorge, then gradually climbs back out to a bog that's already showing signs of the waning summer as it's now brown rather than green:
We briefly lost the trail here, as we would several times during the trip. This is an extremely uncrowded portion of the Uintas and much of the time there was no visible trail. All we could do is look ahead for the next cairn.
After crossing the bog the trail ascends very steeply to Big Elk Lake. We lost the trail again as we approached the dam, scrambling hand over foot up a small cliff to reach the lakeshore.
There were four guys fishing from the cliffs at the northwest end of the lake as we walked up the east shore, rounded the north side and began to once again ascend steeply to Erickson Pass. Thankful for the stiff breeze, we finally reached the top and began descending to South Erickson Lake. I stopped in my tracks for a moment, having spotted in the distance some large creatures milling about the lake's inlet. Moose? Elk?
Cows.
The portion of the Wasatch-Cache National Forest we were in is open range summer grazing land for several herds, and one had decided to spend the day at our planned destination. We got closer, but the cows wouldn't let us approach within 50 feet, stomping off into the brush when we got too close for their comfort. We arrived at the lake to find a well-established campsite along with a homemade corral built amongst the trees, but instead we pitched camp in some nice grassland near the shore that was wonderfully devoid of peppermint patties.
We had a very curious audience as we pitched our tents:
They emerged from the trees as we made camp, getting as close as they dared and then just stood there, staring. The two black ones in the photo and a third white one would return repeatedly -- they were the gutsy ones, or perhaps they were just the herd's designees charged with keeping an eye on us. Who knows?
We filtered water, gathered firewood and prepared dinner at camp:
I dropped a line in the water, as much out of a sense of obligation for having renewed my fishing license that morning as anything else. Nothing, not even a nibble.
Natalie attempted a circumnavigation of the lake -- not as easy as it sounds due to a heinous scree field along the south shore -- as Stephan and I wandered down to North Erickson Lake, finding another beautiful body of water filled with lily pads, reflecting the ridgeline beyond as the sun set:
As we sat in camp, the four fisherman from Big Elk Lake walked through en route back to their camp at Shingle Creek Lake. Their catch? 22 trout! :shock:
We built our fire and settled in. Four deer snuck past our fire for their evening drink from the lake. Just before complete darkness, I saw movement in the forest approaching our fire. At first I thought it was a cow, but it was a trail runner thankful to be back below treeline before nightfall, with his two dogs in tow. He asked directions to the Smith & Morehouse trail. No light, no food, and just a fanny pack with a couple of bottles of water, he was still a good six or seven miles from his vehicle. We all shook our heads in disbelief as the conversation turned to the Darwin Awards.
I retired a little after 11. Nat and Stephan stayed by the campfire until around midnight. Temps plummeted, but I was snug in my bag as I drifted off to sleep, not waking up until well after 9 a.m.
In the morning I brewed a pot of coffee, then completed my own circumnavigation of the lake as Natalie and Stephan went down to North Erickson. I tried my hand at fishing again. Nothin'.
We prepared breakfast and broke camp around noon, hitting the trail.
We crested Erickson Pass, taking in the view to the northwest down to Big Elk Lake.
We lunched after crossing the bog again.
That last climb out of the ravine damned near killed me, but we reached the truck and made it down Norway Flats Road in a relatively speedy 80 minutes. And yes, we made it back up that nasty spot on the first try! \
/
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source= ... 8&t=p&z=14
Hard to believe that this area is only 45 minutes from Salt Lake City. Or it would've been, were it not for the last 7 miles on Norway Flat "Road" east of Samak, rising north from Mirror Lake Highway (UT 150) which took 90 minutes to negotiate. Most hiking trails I've been on are smoother!
This road is completely impassable without a high clearance 4x4. We only hit bottom once, at a spot near the end where folks had already stacked rocks to smooth the drop off a ledge. The thought of trying to get back up that spot lingered in my head all weekend.
But we made it to the end, beyond which motorized travel is prohibited, and booted up to hit the trail. The trail first drops precipitously into a gorge, then gradually climbs back out to a bog that's already showing signs of the waning summer as it's now brown rather than green:
We briefly lost the trail here, as we would several times during the trip. This is an extremely uncrowded portion of the Uintas and much of the time there was no visible trail. All we could do is look ahead for the next cairn.
After crossing the bog the trail ascends very steeply to Big Elk Lake. We lost the trail again as we approached the dam, scrambling hand over foot up a small cliff to reach the lakeshore.
There were four guys fishing from the cliffs at the northwest end of the lake as we walked up the east shore, rounded the north side and began to once again ascend steeply to Erickson Pass. Thankful for the stiff breeze, we finally reached the top and began descending to South Erickson Lake. I stopped in my tracks for a moment, having spotted in the distance some large creatures milling about the lake's inlet. Moose? Elk?
Cows.
The portion of the Wasatch-Cache National Forest we were in is open range summer grazing land for several herds, and one had decided to spend the day at our planned destination. We got closer, but the cows wouldn't let us approach within 50 feet, stomping off into the brush when we got too close for their comfort. We arrived at the lake to find a well-established campsite along with a homemade corral built amongst the trees, but instead we pitched camp in some nice grassland near the shore that was wonderfully devoid of peppermint patties.
We had a very curious audience as we pitched our tents:
They emerged from the trees as we made camp, getting as close as they dared and then just stood there, staring. The two black ones in the photo and a third white one would return repeatedly -- they were the gutsy ones, or perhaps they were just the herd's designees charged with keeping an eye on us. Who knows?
We filtered water, gathered firewood and prepared dinner at camp:
I dropped a line in the water, as much out of a sense of obligation for having renewed my fishing license that morning as anything else. Nothing, not even a nibble.
Natalie attempted a circumnavigation of the lake -- not as easy as it sounds due to a heinous scree field along the south shore -- as Stephan and I wandered down to North Erickson Lake, finding another beautiful body of water filled with lily pads, reflecting the ridgeline beyond as the sun set:
As we sat in camp, the four fisherman from Big Elk Lake walked through en route back to their camp at Shingle Creek Lake. Their catch? 22 trout! :shock:
We built our fire and settled in. Four deer snuck past our fire for their evening drink from the lake. Just before complete darkness, I saw movement in the forest approaching our fire. At first I thought it was a cow, but it was a trail runner thankful to be back below treeline before nightfall, with his two dogs in tow. He asked directions to the Smith & Morehouse trail. No light, no food, and just a fanny pack with a couple of bottles of water, he was still a good six or seven miles from his vehicle. We all shook our heads in disbelief as the conversation turned to the Darwin Awards.
I retired a little after 11. Nat and Stephan stayed by the campfire until around midnight. Temps plummeted, but I was snug in my bag as I drifted off to sleep, not waking up until well after 9 a.m.
In the morning I brewed a pot of coffee, then completed my own circumnavigation of the lake as Natalie and Stephan went down to North Erickson. I tried my hand at fishing again. Nothin'.
We prepared breakfast and broke camp around noon, hitting the trail.
We crested Erickson Pass, taking in the view to the northwest down to Big Elk Lake.
We lunched after crossing the bog again.
That last climb out of the ravine damned near killed me, but we reached the truck and made it down Norway Flats Road in a relatively speedy 80 minutes. And yes, we made it back up that nasty spot on the first try! \
/
about "desolate, brown, scorched suburban hell" were aimed at the Ogden/SLC/Provo corridor, and not at the rural places Admin mentioned earlier.
