I called my buddy Todd on Friday evening with a last minute idea. It reached 103ºF on Friday and threatened to hover near the 100-degree mark all weekend. I wanted to get out of Dodge, and Todd agreed.
By Saturday morning we were speeding eastbound on I-80. We've of course been backpacking in the Uintas many times, most often in the western end of the range where the Mirror Lake Highway (UT-150) winds from Kamas to Evanston, Wyo., reaching nearly 11,000 feet at Bald Mountain Pass. It's the only road to traverse the Uintas.
There are, however, other approaches as well. We've headed in once from the south, visiting the Grandaddy Lakes. We've never, however, come in via the North Slope from Wyoming. That's the way to reach the Henry's Fork Trailhead, the shortest route to Kings Peak, which at 13,589 feet is the highest point in Utah. You'd think, therefore, that Henry's Fork would be busy but compared with trailheads along the Mirror Lake Highway, it's remarkably quiet.
The North Slope gently ascends from the Bridger Valley of southwestern Wyoming through thick conifer forests, a marked departure from the arid Mirror Lake Highway heading eastbound from Kamas.
We reached the trailhead by 12:30 p.m., booted up and hit the trail, which enters the High Uintas Wilderness Area and follows the tumbling Henry's Fork as it drains some of the highest peaks in the range and carries the water all the way to the Green River in Flaming Gorge.
The sound of the bubbling brook was relaxing, which was just the ticket after a hellish week of work. Numerous parties passed us heading out. Too many, it seemed, for the few cars in the parking lot, but it only made sense that folks were heading home on Saturday, for this is Utah after all.
Sprinkles and for a moment a light shower drizzled on us as we hiked in. Temperatures hovered around 70, a marked departure from the blazing heat in the nearby Salt Lake Valley. By the time we reached Elkhorn Meadow, the skies parted sufficiently to grant us our first glimpse of the Kings Peak summit.
From Elkhorn Meadow, we branched west-southwest to ascend the west side of the valley. After a bit of climbing (we were beat after seven miles with full gear!), we bushwhacked cross-country to reach Bear Lake, which we had all to ourselves.
We set camp, but shortly thereafter found a far superior campsite, superior enough to pull up stakes and move.
After dinner I fished a bit, unsuccessfully, and played spades, and truly had my butt handed to me.
I had a restless, sleepless night. I'd brought the Bear Burrito again, but failed to realize that temperatures would dip into the 40s overnight. Frankly, I froze. With no sleeping pad, and only cold air beneath, the insulation in the sleeping bag compresses underneath your weight and provides no warmth whatsoever. I'd change position to let a different side chill, drift off to sleep, and awaken 15-30 minutes later uncomfortably cold. I'd repeat the process all night.
Note to self: don't bring the hammock tent if temps will dip below 50-55 overnight.
I began to sleep better once the sun broke over the horizon, so I didn't climb out of bed until 9:30 a.m.
We cooked breakfast, broke camp, and bushwhacked downstream to Sawmill Lake, finding the remnants of its namesake steam-powered sawmill beyond the far shore.
We plugged along to get back, pausing for a ramen noodle lunch beside Henry's Fork before reaching the truck at 2:45 p.m. today, over 14 miles after we started. Unlike Saturday, we only saw 4 other parties between camp and the truck.
For anyone interested in knowing more about this area, here's a Google Earth file with our track and photos included in the location where each photo was taken:
View attachment Bear Lake.kmz
By Saturday morning we were speeding eastbound on I-80. We've of course been backpacking in the Uintas many times, most often in the western end of the range where the Mirror Lake Highway (UT-150) winds from Kamas to Evanston, Wyo., reaching nearly 11,000 feet at Bald Mountain Pass. It's the only road to traverse the Uintas.
There are, however, other approaches as well. We've headed in once from the south, visiting the Grandaddy Lakes. We've never, however, come in via the North Slope from Wyoming. That's the way to reach the Henry's Fork Trailhead, the shortest route to Kings Peak, which at 13,589 feet is the highest point in Utah. You'd think, therefore, that Henry's Fork would be busy but compared with trailheads along the Mirror Lake Highway, it's remarkably quiet.
The North Slope gently ascends from the Bridger Valley of southwestern Wyoming through thick conifer forests, a marked departure from the arid Mirror Lake Highway heading eastbound from Kamas.
We reached the trailhead by 12:30 p.m., booted up and hit the trail, which enters the High Uintas Wilderness Area and follows the tumbling Henry's Fork as it drains some of the highest peaks in the range and carries the water all the way to the Green River in Flaming Gorge.
The sound of the bubbling brook was relaxing, which was just the ticket after a hellish week of work. Numerous parties passed us heading out. Too many, it seemed, for the few cars in the parking lot, but it only made sense that folks were heading home on Saturday, for this is Utah after all.
Sprinkles and for a moment a light shower drizzled on us as we hiked in. Temperatures hovered around 70, a marked departure from the blazing heat in the nearby Salt Lake Valley. By the time we reached Elkhorn Meadow, the skies parted sufficiently to grant us our first glimpse of the Kings Peak summit.
From Elkhorn Meadow, we branched west-southwest to ascend the west side of the valley. After a bit of climbing (we were beat after seven miles with full gear!), we bushwhacked cross-country to reach Bear Lake, which we had all to ourselves.
We set camp, but shortly thereafter found a far superior campsite, superior enough to pull up stakes and move.
After dinner I fished a bit, unsuccessfully, and played spades, and truly had my butt handed to me.
I had a restless, sleepless night. I'd brought the Bear Burrito again, but failed to realize that temperatures would dip into the 40s overnight. Frankly, I froze. With no sleeping pad, and only cold air beneath, the insulation in the sleeping bag compresses underneath your weight and provides no warmth whatsoever. I'd change position to let a different side chill, drift off to sleep, and awaken 15-30 minutes later uncomfortably cold. I'd repeat the process all night.
Note to self: don't bring the hammock tent if temps will dip below 50-55 overnight.
I began to sleep better once the sun broke over the horizon, so I didn't climb out of bed until 9:30 a.m.
We cooked breakfast, broke camp, and bushwhacked downstream to Sawmill Lake, finding the remnants of its namesake steam-powered sawmill beyond the far shore.
We plugged along to get back, pausing for a ramen noodle lunch beside Henry's Fork before reaching the truck at 2:45 p.m. today, over 14 miles after we started. Unlike Saturday, we only saw 4 other parties between camp and the truck.
For anyone interested in knowing more about this area, here's a Google Earth file with our track and photos included in the location where each photo was taken:
View attachment Bear Lake.kmz
