Wasatch Plateau 2019

For this year's July 4th trip, we went to the southern end of Skyline Drive in the Wasatch Plateau, north of I-70 and east of Salina. The turnout was much smaller than it was for my Memorial Day trip — Stanley, Beth, Giulia, Tony and my dog Toby. However, the weather was great, the scenery was delightful, and we all had a wonderful time.

We stayed at the fairly primitive Salina Creek Second Crossing campground. We were the only people there the entire weekend, which was great, if somewhat shocking. There are 20-odd bulldozed pull-outs plus a pit toilet, but no water, picnic tables or fire rings (and no fees).

Stanley, Beth, Toby and I arrived on Wednesday evening. On Thursday, we drove up Skyline Drive to the point where it was blocked by snow, then got out and hiked. The slushy snowdrift was at 10100 ft, about 2 road miles below the saddle where the road crosses the White Mountain ridge. White Mountain extends in a long arc to the southeast and forms the south wall of the upper Muddy Creek basin. It looks from a distance like it's as flat as a board on top, which isn't quite true, but it sure is hard to tell where the highest point is. There is a long strike valley that runs near the crest on the west side, in which are nestled the lovely Three Lakes.

I noticed a crag at the north end of the ridge and suggested that we hike to the top. We crossed some snow patches and ascended a short but steep rocky slope, and we were greeted by a fantastic view. To the north we could see Island Lake and the green basin of Twelvemile Creek, while off to west Molly's Nipple towered over the landscape. Stanley and I both checked the elevation with our GPSes and came up with 11093 ft, which is a little higher than the 11071 ft on the USGS map. For some reason, this bump is not considered to be the high point of White Mountain — that honor is bestowed on a 10804-ft bump toward the other end of the ridge.

We decided to walk down the White Mountain ridge to see what it had to offer. We followed Forest Road 13 for a while, crossing some wide and soft snow patches. When that road bent north to drop over the rim, we stayed high and followed the plateau. Eventually the plateau pinched out at a crag above broad Baseball Flat. I wasn't sure that we were going to get down, but Beth found a route and pretty soon we were down at FR 161 in the Three Lakes valley. We tried to follow the road back up to the saddle, but it was mostly under snow. Eventually we crossed a snowbank west to the next ridge, and came back out on Skyline Drive.

go to the White Mountain Ridge gallery

Tony and Giulia arrived at the campground on Thursday evening, after driving far up the sketchy road in their Honda Civic, looking for us. They joined us for the Friday hike to Mary's Nipple. Some maps refer to this 10984-ft peak as Molly's Nipple — the names appear to be interchangeable. Wikipedia says: “Mollie's Nipple or Molly's Nipple is the name given to as many as seven peaks, at least one butte, at least one well, and some other geological features in Utah. Some sources claim there are eleven geological features in Utah that bear this name. At least some of those names are attributed to John Kitchen — a pioneer of an early exploration of Utah, who named them to commemorate a nipple of his wife Molly.”

The trail starts as a muddy ATV track along Skyline Drive among glorious fields of larkspur, and contours up in fits and starts to Nipple Ridge. The ridge leads south to a plateau upon which the summit is perched like a flat-topped slab of cake.

The trail went up the right side of a long snowfield and led to a crack in the cliff band. The crack provides a number of class-3 routes above the cliff band, none of which were suitable for a dog. As the other folks moved on to the summit, Toby and I moved south across really crappy footing, looking for a better approach. Beth had gone up a series of gravel-covered shelves on this section, but the treacherous crud was too tough for poor Toby. We dropped down the ridge at the southeast corner and circled back to the crack so that I could at least recover my pack, which I had handed up to Stanley. When Toby and I arrived at the crack, Beth was there, and she offered to hang on to Toby while I went to the summit, which turned out to be just a hundred yards away. We had to wait for Stanley to haul my pack back down from the summit so that I could give Beth the dog leash and dog treats, but it was worth it — I was on top quickly and admiring the awesome view.

On the way down, the snowfield was easy to plunge-step, and we made great time. We hung out at the vehicles for a while enjoying the shade and the pleasant breeze, and checked my flower book to identify the flowers we'd seen.

We stopped on the way down at the point where the Great Western Trail branches off of Skyline Drive, and spent about 40 minutes walking along Dead Horse Ridge. The aroma of the chokecherry blooms was wonderful, and we saw plenty more interesting flowers.

go to the Mary's Nipple gallery

On Saturday, we drove east to the rim of Quitchupah Canyon. On the way, we stopped at the Jack Addley Monument. It's a mile down a rough and sandy side road, in a forest of ponderosa pines. A lightning bolt struck one of those pines in 1938 and killed both Jack and his horse, Old Star, who were under it. The people of Emery built a monument to Jack, which is quite touching. We walked the road past the monument to the rim of Convulsion Canyon, where we looked down on the noisy and dirty Sufco coal mine.

The meadows of flowers continued to be amazing as we drove further north and east. We took another side road through fields of paintbrush, flax, larkspur, globemallow and vetch, with sego lilies scattered widely. We parked in the shade of a forest of ponderosas, aspens, white firs and mountain mahogany. It appeared to me that the forest was recovering from a heavy cut (a clear cut?) — there were stumps of 170-year-old ponderosas, and many cut trees left on the ground. I'm guessing that the cut occurred some time around Jack's death.

We found an ATV track that wandered through thick manzanita brush to the rim. The rim is a big surprise when you reach it — the land drops off abruptly and falls 1500 feet over a series of cliff bands to Quitchupah Creek. I was pleased to see bristlecone pines, which I hadn't spotted on the previous days' hikes. We walked south along the rim, admiring the forest and the view. The manzanita and the mahogany made for some awkward bushwhacking in places, but it wasn't too bad as these things go. We worked our way up to a high point on the rim where there were some old boards from a survey marker. A mysterious hole in the ground opens up very near this high point, seemingly bottomless. We wondered what planet you'd end up on if you fell into the wormhole.

We found another ATV track that led away from the rim and back to the dirt road, so the return to the cars was pleasantly quick and devoid of mahogany thrashing. We continued to see interesting flowers, and I'm still scratching my head over some of them. Beth has encyclopedic knowledge of flowers and shrubs, and I learned a lot by following her around.

Toby was very tired at the end of the day, so I left early, as did Stanley and Beth. The poor overstimulated dog slept most of Sunday, but he seems to have recovered well.

go to the Quitchupah Creek Rim gallery