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Published: September 21st 2009
Monday, August 23, 2009: Henry’s Fork (King’s Peak) Ashley National Forest, Utah
Author note: This hike in Utah took place about a month ago. I’m currently about a week away from starting back teaching college, and am currently sitting with Jennifer and Sophie, the dog, in a rain-soaked tent at Kettle Moraine State Park in southern Wisconsin) Even with the cold, I slept great at the National Forest (free) campsite, having been warmed by the previous night’s fire. We awoke early, around 8-9 a.m., and proceeded to lay out all the materials needed for the Uinta High Wilderness 3-day backcountry hike. The trailhead of origin, King’s Peak (the highest point in Utah) provided one of 3 trail access points to access the peak. We had decided against attempting to summit, instead planning on hiking in to camp, then spending the next day on a day hike, then walking out on the third.
Because Jennifer had no backpack, we crammed everything into my backpack, with her carrying a 2-foot, waterproof bag and a regular book bag. The contents were similar to what I had taken into Yellowstone’s backcountry, but twice the food, an extra sleeping,
and Sophie’s food, leash, etc. (she remained off the leash, to my memory, all three days. We bid the cows a goodbye, gathered our large amount of trash gathered from the site (including a cow dung-pattied frying pan, and drove the 3 miles south to the trailhead.
There were fewer cars than the weekend traffic, but still about 20 vehicles in the dirt parking area. We chatted with 3 hikers who had summated the peak, deciding to take their advice to hike to Dollar Lake, as opposed to Henry’s Fork Lake. So, at a crucial point 5 miles in, we were now to veer left, walking near the base of the left side of the expansive valley, as opposed to the opposite side, which, at parts, was at least 3-4 miles wide. We registered in the logbook, as to provide the proper spellings of our names for the Salt Lake City news media should we fail to reappear. Being a “high wilderness” area, there are no fees for the backcountry hikes, which is nice.
Summiting the highest peak, King’s Peak, which is 13,528 feet high, is no walk in the park, as apparently some think. 1000s of
people per year hike from the parking lot to the summit, then back down again in one day. Such a task, however, is no easy feat, and organization and planning, even for a fit individual, is a necessity. The hike’s distance from the Henry’s Fork Trailhead, is approx. 32 miles (16 in and 16 out), with a somewhat large elevation gain (approx. 4,100 feet). This led to our decision to not push ourselves to make summiting a priority. Our speculations as to the seriousness of hiking all the way up there was confirmed by seeing a flyer on the bulletin board calling for a “lost dog.” Apparently, on Saturday, two days before, a climber, while “scrambling,” or “climbing large boulders,” had continued on to the summit when his dog refused to continue to follow. The situation was complicated by a snowstorm, which can occur with somewhat great regularity, even during the summer months, on mountains over 14,000 ft. Although the snow melted the next day by 10 a.m., 4 inches had fallen. This guy exhibited poor decision-making by putting his pet in jeopardy. In addition, there had to be 2 helicopter rescues by 2 hikers, one of which was totally
High Uintas Wilderness
Ashley National Forest, Utahcaught off guard by the snowstorm, who were unprepared and/or unskilled.
A 20 foot river is the starting point for the hike. The trail, which, in general, heads in a southerly direction, follows the Henry’s Fork River, gaining elevation from a very tight trail. The 5 miles gradually lead to a heavily-wooded ridge, finally opening up to the expansive valley, with 1000-ft. + rock walls and peaks surrounding all sides. The river, at the entrance to the valley, has a log bridge to make crossing easy. As were neared this point, we actually met the man who had lost his dog. He sadly told the story of becoming separated from his dog. He had traveled back to Salt Lake City, but had taken a day off work to come back and look for it. Judging from his appearance, he was a “reggae-type” white dude, with processed dreads tucked under a Jamaica-inspired, colorful floppy hat. He refused our food offer (he appeared to have none), and we promised him that we would be on the lookout for his dog (the poor thing—it’s only two real options were to die a slow death of starvation/lack of food, or be attacked
Henrys Fork Trail
High Uintas National Forest, Utah by another animal larger than it, perhaps a pack of coyotes). An ending closer to a “Hollywood” one was that the dog was found by other cool hikers, who would then take the weak and dirty animal out of the harsh environment. Throughout the whole trip, especially with bouncy Sophie there to keep us entertained and content, we would state, “That dumbass
lost his dog!”
We also met a group of nice mid-20s kids, who all lived in the same apartment complex in Salt Lake City, who were also planning to hike at Dollar Lake, and then planned to summit King’s Peak the next day. Perhaps the most interesting hiker was a man we came upon leaning on a rock resting. It was approx. 4 p.m., and we still at least an hour to Dollar Lake (we had already been hiking 5 hours, having begun at about 11 a.m.). He was a pilot from United, whom had flown from Paris overnight, to Salt Lake City through Chicago. He was also a self-proclaimed “50 High Pointer,” meaning that his hobby, started 6 years earlier, was to summit all 50 states’ “highest points.” He had bagged 46, with only Utah,
Utah Flora
High Uinta Wilderness wildflower Oregon, Washington state, and Alaska’s peaks remaining. This trip however, was a bust, as he realized that it was not in his powers to make the entire King’s Peak hike in one day. The Gunsite Pass scramble was extra tough, especially when it started snowing. He was carrying no tent or sleeping bag, and little food. He realized that he was “at the next level” concerning the remaining hikes, especially Mt. Hood in Washington and Mt. McKinley (Denali) in Alaska. These peaks, for most of us, require focused training and guides.
The hike, especially during the beginning with the hot sun beating down was tough; the trail was a mixture of rocks and packed dirt. It began to cloud over, and eventually it began to rain on us. There were few directional signs, only one to my count, and we (like several others) overshot Dollar Lake by a ¼ mile, seeing its waters behind us. We were both really tired and cranky, so we planted our tent 20 feet off the Lake’s water (technically, a tent under any conditions should be placed a couple of hundred feet from a lake’s shore, but it was obvious that folks had camped
there before). We made use of the remaining Cody, Wy. Sierra Trading Club instant hikers food, and were pleased with the Vegetarian Chili (of course, most all food, no matter how bland, tastes great after 6-7 hours of hiking). The sun came out again and provided excellent views and pictures of the approx. 40-acre lake.
Jennifer got up early the next day and went for a short walk around on a bird-viewing quest. She was lucky enough to see a Moose, an animal that would elude me the entire trip. I woke up and took a short walk around the lake myself—the water was really spectacular there—so pure, and full o fish, which one could see swimming around (they were mostly mountain rainbow trout).
We packed some nuts and “power bar-type” food and continued to follow the Henry’s Fork Trail. We walked ½ mile up the trail, passing a huge rock “corner” and walking up a gradual trail that led to a series of 20 long switchbacks. This gain in elevation is necessary to get to Gunsite Pass, which was our turn around point, and took 30 minutes to climb; we moved over the tops of huge
boulders, over snow patches and holes between the rocks. At Gunsite Pass, we could see (although not identify at the time) King’s Peak, still 5-6 miles away. One must travel back down to another valley, and then climb much like we had just done to scramble to the top. At the top, we added our own cairns to the large number that had been previously made (including one 15-20 feet high) and took a couple of pictures. Jennifer was on the lookout for Ptarmigans, who live in the rock hillsides during the hot summer seasons, but there were none to be seen this day.
The hike back to camp took only half the time of the initial 4-hour climb, and we were exhausted by our return. We made dinner and went to bed shortly after sundown. I took an evening swim in the lake, reacting out loud to the coldness of the mountain water.
In the morning, we packed, reveling in the notion that our packs are now lighter, as we’ve eaten a bulk of the food. We walked out, passing very few people. The 8-mile hike was again long, especially the last 3-4 miles. We
made it out around 1 p.m., where I shed my shoes and sat in the cold river…
There was only one more big stop on our time in Utah together…Antelope Island State Park, located in the Great Salt Lake approx. 30 miles north of Salt Lake City…
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