Another weekend in the great outdoors!
Tele Jon and I decided to head east to Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area to spend a weekend kayak camping. For those not aware, Flaming Gorge Reservoir was created by damming the Green River east of the Uinta Mountains in 1964. What resulted is an 85 mile-long lake spanning the Wyoming-Utah border that flows through everything from farmland and rolling badlands in the north to spectacular canyons in the southern portion in Utah near the dam.
The southern end promised the most interesting kayaking, so we struck out from Salt Lake City around 7 pm on Friday night for the 170-mile drive to the put-in at Sheep Creek Bay, southeast of the town of Manila, Utah. We figured that it was better to get close on Friday night to enjoy the flatter water and cooler temperatures of morning paddling on Saturday.
We figured to get a bite to eat in Ft. Bridger. Despite the town's well-known reputation due to historical significance we were shocked to find only a tiny hamlet pop. 150 consisting of little more than two bars/drive-through liquor stores and a post office. No food. Looking at the map the largest town in the region appeared to be Lyman so we headed over there, where our only option appeared to be a pizza/sandwich/video rental store. Oh, well...we grabbed a sandwich and kept driving. We should've held out for the town of Mountain View, for at least their gas station included a Subway.
Our plan was to pull off the road on BLM land about 30 miles northwest of the town of Manila and camp. Finding a fence across the road where we planned to pull off, we backtracked slightly to camp beside a dirt road near Lonetree, Wyoming, which appeared to consist of two houses. We pitched our tent in the dark, save for the glow of the truck's headlights. Waking up at 6:30 we found ourselves at an odd crossroads, with desolate badlands to the north...
...and green irrigated farmlands to the south stretching to the Uinta Mountains on the horizon.
After breaking camp and downing a quick coffee we pressed on, stopping in Manila for permits before pulling into the put-in at Sheep Creek Bay.
After loading up our boats we headed northeast along the red cliffs that form the northwest side of the bay, and after just less than 2 miles pulled onto a beach across the lake from Kingfisher Island ...
...to unload the boats and set up camp.
We'd use this site as a basecamp over the next two days as we'd explore the southwest corner of Flaming Gorge.
It was time to strike out again, crossing the broad bay ...
...en route to Horseshoe Canyon.
All of Horseshoe Canyon is a designated no-wake zone, making it perfect for paddling. Spectacular cliffs begin nearly 1,000 feet above the water and continue well down below the waterline. The water is crystal clear, and you can see rocks 20 or 30 feet down before the lake floor drops into the abyss in between. Trout were visible everywhere. Traveling in a kayak allowed us to hug the cliffs, ducking into coves and paddling into waterline caves.
Upon exiting the canyon, we paddled through The Narrows and entered a small bay on the north shore...
...before returning to camp after a little more than 11 miles on the water.
The sun blazed through the afternoon heat at camp. Jon watched an osprey swoop down from the cliffs behind us and scoop a fish out of the water right next to where we were seated, and fly off to the horizon. I decided to throw a lure in the water from shore, and landed a smallmouth bass on my second cast. Fishing equipment problems, though, squashed any thoughts of fresh fish for dinner, and once the sun dipped behind the cliffs I retired to the tent for a one-hour nap.
I remembered the charcoal, but Jon forgot the grill (and his tent, for that matter! :shock: ), so I fashioned a lakeside grill from three green twigs and grilled up my ribeye to a perfect medium rare.
We watched the full moon rise acoss the lake, but exhaustion killed any ideas of a moonlight paddle and we called it a night around 11 pm.
Awaking again at 6:30, we fried up some bacon and cooked oatmeal before breaking camp, loading the boats and pushing off into the lake again. This time we planned to circumnavigate Kingfisher Island, taking a side spur well into Red Canyon in the process.
Although it wasn't as spectacular as Horseshoe Canyon, huge cliffs nonetheless lined the eastern end of Kingfisher Island and we explored much as we had the day before.
As we passed a large landslide on the eastern shore of Kingfisher Canyon, I heard some rocks tumble. I looked up and spotted four mountain goats -- two adults (one wearing a tracking collar) and two young -- grazing for snacks amongst the rocks. The were surprisingly unconcerned about us, and allowed us to approach right to the edge of the shore without scampering off.
No more than a couple of hundred yards later we watched an osprey return to her nest high atop a sheer cliff.
We continued across Hideout Bay and into Hideout Canyon, exploring a couple of deep side coves before heading back. Surprisingly, even in early afternoon the lake surface remained like glass.
The caretaker at the Hideout Draw boat camp bid us a friendly greeting as we paddled past, asking which way the Gulf of Mexico was. We continued to play along the cliffs on the other side of Kingfisher Canyon before completing our circumnavigation of Kingfisher Island before heading back to the boat ramp after putting in a little more than 12 more miles on the lake, right as thunder began to rumble in the distance.
All in all, Flaming Gorge was a fabulously adventuresome paddle. Of course, as to be expected on a midsummer weekend, there were lots of powerboats out. The lake is large enough, though, that they were seldom a bother, and by paddling early you not only avoid the heat of the day, but most of the waterskiers and go-fast boaters anyway. It was mostly trolling fishermen before noon.
Tele Jon and I decided to head east to Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area to spend a weekend kayak camping. For those not aware, Flaming Gorge Reservoir was created by damming the Green River east of the Uinta Mountains in 1964. What resulted is an 85 mile-long lake spanning the Wyoming-Utah border that flows through everything from farmland and rolling badlands in the north to spectacular canyons in the southern portion in Utah near the dam.
The southern end promised the most interesting kayaking, so we struck out from Salt Lake City around 7 pm on Friday night for the 170-mile drive to the put-in at Sheep Creek Bay, southeast of the town of Manila, Utah. We figured that it was better to get close on Friday night to enjoy the flatter water and cooler temperatures of morning paddling on Saturday.
We figured to get a bite to eat in Ft. Bridger. Despite the town's well-known reputation due to historical significance we were shocked to find only a tiny hamlet pop. 150 consisting of little more than two bars/drive-through liquor stores and a post office. No food. Looking at the map the largest town in the region appeared to be Lyman so we headed over there, where our only option appeared to be a pizza/sandwich/video rental store. Oh, well...we grabbed a sandwich and kept driving. We should've held out for the town of Mountain View, for at least their gas station included a Subway.
Our plan was to pull off the road on BLM land about 30 miles northwest of the town of Manila and camp. Finding a fence across the road where we planned to pull off, we backtracked slightly to camp beside a dirt road near Lonetree, Wyoming, which appeared to consist of two houses. We pitched our tent in the dark, save for the glow of the truck's headlights. Waking up at 6:30 we found ourselves at an odd crossroads, with desolate badlands to the north...
...and green irrigated farmlands to the south stretching to the Uinta Mountains on the horizon.
After breaking camp and downing a quick coffee we pressed on, stopping in Manila for permits before pulling into the put-in at Sheep Creek Bay.
After loading up our boats we headed northeast along the red cliffs that form the northwest side of the bay, and after just less than 2 miles pulled onto a beach across the lake from Kingfisher Island ...
...to unload the boats and set up camp.
We'd use this site as a basecamp over the next two days as we'd explore the southwest corner of Flaming Gorge.
It was time to strike out again, crossing the broad bay ...
...en route to Horseshoe Canyon.
All of Horseshoe Canyon is a designated no-wake zone, making it perfect for paddling. Spectacular cliffs begin nearly 1,000 feet above the water and continue well down below the waterline. The water is crystal clear, and you can see rocks 20 or 30 feet down before the lake floor drops into the abyss in between. Trout were visible everywhere. Traveling in a kayak allowed us to hug the cliffs, ducking into coves and paddling into waterline caves.
Upon exiting the canyon, we paddled through The Narrows and entered a small bay on the north shore...
...before returning to camp after a little more than 11 miles on the water.
The sun blazed through the afternoon heat at camp. Jon watched an osprey swoop down from the cliffs behind us and scoop a fish out of the water right next to where we were seated, and fly off to the horizon. I decided to throw a lure in the water from shore, and landed a smallmouth bass on my second cast. Fishing equipment problems, though, squashed any thoughts of fresh fish for dinner, and once the sun dipped behind the cliffs I retired to the tent for a one-hour nap.
I remembered the charcoal, but Jon forgot the grill (and his tent, for that matter! :shock: ), so I fashioned a lakeside grill from three green twigs and grilled up my ribeye to a perfect medium rare.
We watched the full moon rise acoss the lake, but exhaustion killed any ideas of a moonlight paddle and we called it a night around 11 pm.
Awaking again at 6:30, we fried up some bacon and cooked oatmeal before breaking camp, loading the boats and pushing off into the lake again. This time we planned to circumnavigate Kingfisher Island, taking a side spur well into Red Canyon in the process.
Although it wasn't as spectacular as Horseshoe Canyon, huge cliffs nonetheless lined the eastern end of Kingfisher Island and we explored much as we had the day before.
As we passed a large landslide on the eastern shore of Kingfisher Canyon, I heard some rocks tumble. I looked up and spotted four mountain goats -- two adults (one wearing a tracking collar) and two young -- grazing for snacks amongst the rocks. The were surprisingly unconcerned about us, and allowed us to approach right to the edge of the shore without scampering off.
No more than a couple of hundred yards later we watched an osprey return to her nest high atop a sheer cliff.
We continued across Hideout Bay and into Hideout Canyon, exploring a couple of deep side coves before heading back. Surprisingly, even in early afternoon the lake surface remained like glass.
The caretaker at the Hideout Draw boat camp bid us a friendly greeting as we paddled past, asking which way the Gulf of Mexico was. We continued to play along the cliffs on the other side of Kingfisher Canyon before completing our circumnavigation of Kingfisher Island before heading back to the boat ramp after putting in a little more than 12 more miles on the lake, right as thunder began to rumble in the distance.
All in all, Flaming Gorge was a fabulously adventuresome paddle. Of course, as to be expected on a midsummer weekend, there were lots of powerboats out. The lake is large enough, though, that they were seldom a bother, and by paddling early you not only avoid the heat of the day, but most of the waterskiers and go-fast boaters anyway. It was mostly trolling fishermen before noon.
