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Location: Heber City, UT
In the past three days since I arrived here in Utah from Minnesota, my body has been doing a good deal of acclimatizing to the altitude and weather. The altitude here in Heber City is around 5500 feet, while the Soldier Hollow venue is a few hundred feet higher. Because most of my training during the early part of this training camp is supposed to be easy, I decided to return to the mountains for one last adventure before getting into “regular” training.
The biggest sight in the Wasatch Valley is Mount Timpanogos. It’s a rugged beast of a mountain that rises straight up from Provo Canyon. The other peaks of the Wasatch Range look like foothills in comparison. The pictures in this article should help. Certainly not Eastern mountains by any means!
Every day when we came to the range during the U.S Development Team’s training camp last October I had to look at this mountain, begging me to climb it. It simply tortured me. Now, nearly a year later, I finally found the time and will to get it done.
The trail that I hiked starts just above Sundance, one of Utah’s lesser known ski resorts, at around 6000 feet, which is just a guess. It climbs up one of the canyons for a dozen miles to the highest summit of the mountain, which is at just below 12000 feet. Yeah, quite a hike.
From my experience two days ago, in which I certainly walked the edge of not being able to hike anymore for a while, I learned to stay on marked trails and be conservative in the mountains. Today, there was only one close cal, but, because I am writing this a few days later, you can be assured that I am still alive and well.
This story is really best explained through the fifty pictures that I took along the way. The scenery and topography is just difficult to explain in words only.
LOWER VALLEY
The trail from the parking lot is actually paved for a mile to a popular waterfall. In the lower part of the valley, the vegetation is really thick, probably because it is a rainforest by Utah standards.
UPPER VALLEY, MEADOW, SNOW FIELDS
After winding up through the valley, now on a dirt trace, the trail winds further up the canyon with numerous switchbacks, bypassing the half dozen fifty-foot cliffs. It then emerges into an alpine plateau where there is also a wide valley between the shear cliffs of the different parts of the mountain. A little further up the valley, there is Emerald Lake, which is a snow melt water lake at the foot of the highest summit of Timpanogos.
Up a narrower valley from the lake, a few snow fields led up to a pass, where it seemed I could access the actual summit. There were tracks on the snow, so I thought that this was the trail, which I had been told was used quite often. When I reached the final snow field, there was a snow chute that people earlier in the season must have used to descend quickly from the pass. Still thinking this was clearly the only route to the top, I embarked up it without trouble, using my ski poles whenever needed.
By the time that I reached the top of the snow field, there was still a good distance of climbing yet to the top of the pass. The elevation, which at that point must have been about 11000 feet, was certainly making me get to know my heart and lungs a little better. The pass had certainly become steeper as well, but since I was on a snow field, I felt pretty confident that, if I fell, I could either steer myself away from the few rocks in the snow, or stop myself with my poles since the snow was getting softer in the afternoon sun.
UPPER PASS, SUMMIT
Looking up, however, I was less confident. The rocks were a little larger than tennis balls, and when I started climbing them, they began sliding with my every movement. I grew a little worried, but thinking again that this was the official trail, I thought that it must be somewhat safe since thousands of people had climbed it that are in worse shape and less cautious than me. To my left, it seemed like the climb was less steep and contained larger, more stabile rocks. Carefully, I traversed the canyon wall, letting each and every rock settle before moving onward.
When I reached a safe outcropping of bedrock, which was thankfully a stabile rock, not prone to fracturing like the ones I encountered two days ago, I took my cell phone out and called a few people that I knew in the area to ask them whether this was indeed the correct trail. After a few tries, I finally contacted one of the guys who works at Soldier Hollow, whom I met yesterday when I was shooting at the range.
Steve reassured me that I was climbing in a safe area, and that it was the trail that he used most often. There was an easier trail, which I must have mistaken for one heading for a different mountain, but was considered the primary trail. The route that I was climbing was usually only used when the snow field reached all the way to the top of the pass, he said. I asked him for some advice about negotiating the rock slides. He told me that it is normal for the rocks to settle to some degree, but that traversing the slope, rather than climbing straight up it, prevents the rocks from losing their foundation and forming a large slide.
With that knowledge, I found the way a lot easier and safer. Sure enough, the rocks would slide, but then they would settle, and I could move further up and across towards the pass. I wonder if I could have used the same strategy two days ago, though that canyon was a little steeper and less stabile. Soon, I reached the pass, and could see a well-defined trail along the summit to the small shack on the peak. It was a narrow trail, but I felt better knowing that I was on an actual trail.
At the top of the pass, I considered either going down the way I had climbed up, or using the trail that Steve had said would be easier. It was an easy decision; I felt that there was a small chance that the other trail would be more dangerous than the pass. From the pass onwards to the summit, I could see Provo Lake to the west and the Wasatch Valley to the east. The remainder of the Wasatch Range was to the north, while the other parts of Timpanogos were to the south.
DESCENT FROM SUMMIT
At the peak, there is a small, open hut where I found two other hikers. They were planning on descending the way I had come up because they thought that it would save them a half hour. I asked them how difficult the other trail was, and they said that it was also a bit dangerous. They had never seen the pass that I had climbed up. After a few moments, I reassured myself that the main trail would likely be safer, and started on my way. They made the same choice.
RETURN TO THE VALLEY
The trail descended steeply, but the switchbacks were manageable. There were a few other hikers, and I even saw one woman climbing up in semi-dressy tennis shoes. I knew that this trail had to be easier, and I was right. The most dangerous section was a short, mildly steep slope down a dusty path. No rock slides. No cliffs below.
Above me, however, there were some amazing cliffs. Even more amazing were the mountain goats clinging to the side. I could not figure out how they had situated themselves on the ledge, but there they were, eating mountain plants without a worry of falling.
The trail wound around the mountain to Emerald Lake and the base of the summit I had just climbed. You can see the valley and snow fields I hiked up below.
SWIMMING, GROUSE, LOWER VALLEY
I had only planned for a five hour hike, so I was a little low on water. In order to decrease the amount I would need on the way down to sweat, I decided to jump in the glacial lake!
Further down the valley, I encountered a dozen grouse walking on the trail. They tried to race me and would not get out of the way, even if I tossed stones around them (but not at them). Finally, they became bored and let me pass.
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