It was a Labor Day reunion for myself, Dan, Adam, and Mike in the small Utah border town of Bluff, as we prepared to set out across the state towards the Idaho state line. I was really looking forward to this because we had finished Arizona in May, and I had to drive home to Portland, passing Grand Staircase, Zion, and Bryce Canyon on the way. That was no fun. I arrived in Bluff early because I was traveling down through the Idaho backcountry but ran into road closures due to firefighting activity in the Boise National Forest and had to bailout and take the interstate. I took advantage of the situation and explored around Bluff, including Valley of the Gods. The rest of the gang rolled into town on Saturday, and we had our traditional kickoff dinner at the Canyon Smokehouse. The big decision that we had to make was how much time we would spend in the Jeep Mecca of Moab. We decided to table that decision until we were in Moab and had a better idea of how much time those trails would take, since none of us had been there.
We fueled up and topped off our water on Sunday morning and headed south out of Bluff towards the turnoff into Valley of the Gods. This leg would take us through Valley of the Gods, up and over Moki Dugway and then back into Bluff, where we would head north towards Blanding. 128 miles in all, but we were making good time as we rolled into Blanding for fuel and a snack. At the Canyon Country Bowling Center, which was gas, bowling, and an A&W restaurant, we spied three Jeeps in the parking lot and figured that they must be on the same route, but we could not locate the drivers. As it turns out, we would cross paths later in our journey. We headed west out of Blanding on Elk Mountain Road, before turning north into Bears Ears National Monument to find a place to camp for the evening. We split up, each looking for that perfect campsite, and while we were off looking, Mike ran into the three Jeeps that we had seen earlier in Blanding. Everyone was busy looking for campsites, so there was no time to talk. By this point, I was five or six mile west of the main road, Gooseberry Road, on a narrow trail called Deadman Point. The ominous sounding trail proved to be the perfect spot for the night, culminating in an overlook of several deep canyons. We were at 8,700 feet and, sure enough, clouds moved in against the mountain and it spit rain for about 20 minutes. It cleared up quickly, and we enjoyed the amazing views of the canyons, below.
The next morning, we packed up our Jeeps and headed back out to the main road, which continued east through Bears Ears. Evidently, it was some kind of hunting season because we began seeing more people out here in the forest. We stopped for a break at 10,300-foot North Creek Pass and got to chat with a gentleman who was local to the area. He said that it was bear season, and he gave us a great rundown on how they hunt and what they do with the meat. He showed us pictures of a huge black bear that his grandson had just shot, on a bow hunt. I have never eaten bear, and I am okay with that. We worked our way down the mountain, these roads were well maintained gravel, so we were making good time. We made a quick side-trip into Monticello, Utah for fuel and snacks. Again, we spotted the three Jeeps that we had seen earlier in Blanding, but they were heading out as we were heading in, and we did not get a chance to talk. Our plan was to push into Moab, so we headed back out of Monticello, working our way down to highway 211, which goes into Canyonlands National Park. We passed Newspaper Rock, then Dugout Ranch whose irrigated green fields stood in sharp contrast to the surrounding red rock, before turning onto Lockhart Basin Road, which would take us into Moab. We were not headed into Canyonlands today, but we would be back.
Today we would be skirting Canyonlands, which would remain off to our left as we traveled along Lockhart Basin Road. Bears Ears remained on our right; some 1,000 to 1,500 feet above the road. The views along the way are everything that southern Utah is all about; tall spires, red mesas and sandstone cliffs as far as the eye can see. The road was deceptively easy in the beginning, though it began to narrow and become rockier as we travelled north.
At some point we hit our first obstacle, which caused us to stop and study the situation. We would need to navigate a stretch of jumbled boulders and small ledges, that appeared to be the remnants of a flash-flood event. We were travelers, no rock crawlers, so our experience in these matters was nonexistent. We would become much smarter by the end of the day. We worked our way through the section with no issues, save for some scraping of the skid plates under the Jeeps. Several miles later we ran into a group of adventure bikes who were recuperating in the shade of a rock overhang. We refilled their water and gave them a heads-up on what they could expect, as they were heading in the other direction. They were beat, and happy to hear that they were almost out of the hard stuff.
We had another boulder-chute coming up, though. This was longer and tougher than the last one, with a large three-foot boulder on the left-side of the trail, that we had to get over, and then drop down the other side. I imagine that this stretch of road, roughly 200-feet long, looks like Class IV rapids during a flooding event. We picked our way through the area, scraping our skid plates and differentials along the way. After that, it was smooth sailing out to the Colorado River. It was late in the day, so we picked an open area along the rim of the river canyon, to camp for the night. As the sun went down, we spotted bright off-road lights coming down Lockhart Basin Road and as the first Jeep went by, we realized that it was the three Jeeps that we had been seeing for two days but had not really met. We flashed our lights, and they came down to the river where we were. It turned out that they were also looking for a place to settle in for the night, so we finally got to meet Gordon from Texas, Eric from San Diego, and Arno from Nevada. We had a great evening chatting about Jeeps and various adventures that we had been on. In the morning, Gordon, Eric and Arno continued their Utah Backcountry Discovery Route journey, while we decided to knock-out the Chicken Corners trail which was only about a mile back up the main road. We had also decided to spend the next two or three days in Moab, running some of the trails there.
The Chicken Corners trail itself is only about five miles long and, despite the name, it is not particularly scary. That part comes at the end, but I digress. Like everything in southern Utah, this relatively short trail has small ledges and tight squeezes between giant rocks. Nothing nearly as technical, as Lockhart Basin Road, just a fun little trail with amazing views of the Colorado River 1,000-feet below. At the end of the road is a short foot-trail to Chicken Corners Overlook, and it is this footpath that most certainly gives Chicken Corners its name. The trail is perhaps four feet wide and fairly level, but your mind will tell you that it is only two feet wide and slopes towards the 1,000-foot drop to the river, below. Just because I used to jump out of airplanes does not mean that I am impervious to heights. This trail will definitely get your attention. The hike is worth it, though, with amazing views of Canyonland’s Island in the Sky District on the horizon, and Dead Horse Point directly across the river. Also across the river, movie fans can gaze on Thelma and Louise Point where the two protagonists ended the show. Definitely an interesting place, and we probably did not spend enough time exploring the area around the Chicken Corners Overlook.
We were still about 20-miles south of Moab when we worked our way back out of the Chicken Corners trail, to Lockhart Basin Road where we turned north towards Hurrah Pass. Somewhere around the 4,780-foot Hurrah Pass, Lockhart Basin Road becomes Kane Creek Road, which runs directly into Moab. It also passes the notorious Pritchett Canyon trail, the hardest trail in Moab, which was well outside of our abilities. Our plan for the afternoon was a trail called Fins and Things, which we had heard was a great beginner trail. After Lockhart Basin Road I am not sure that we were still beginners, but one should always remain humble when it comes to technical off-road driving. The trail did not disappoint, and I will travel it again the next time that I am back in Moab. There are numerous sections on the trail that make you think, “there is no way that I can go up that!” But the “slickrock” as it is known, grips the tires with a fine layer of decomposed sandstone that allows a vehicle to seemingly defy gravity. If the rock is wet then yes, it is slick rock, as the layer of fine surface sandstone is washed away, but when dry it grips like no surface I have ever experienced in the Jeep. A factory stock four-wheel drive could easily run this trail, if it had enough ground clearance to go over the various rock stairsteps along the route. It was late in the day when we finished the trail, and we did not feel like traveling all the way back out of Moab to the spot along the Colorado River where we had camped the previous evening, so we got hotel rooms in town, and had a nice restaurant meal. Sometimes, roughing it is overrated.
We would spend the next few days in and around Moab, running trails like Hell’s Revenge, Steel Bender, and Elephant Hill all the way back south in Canyonlands National Park. We still had 600-miles between us and the Idaho border, though, so we finally headed out of town to continue our journey. Our goal today was Green River, which is only 50-miles north of Moab on the highway, but our route would be three times that long and only touch pavement a few times. It was going to be a long day. We headed east out of Moab past several of the Jeep trails that we had driven the past few days, and into the Manti-La Sal National Forest. We were climbing Kokopelli Trail, a narrow dirt road that was evidently a favorite with mountain bikers, and we had to clear the road several times as small groups would come screaming down the trail, catching air over the many bumps and undulations. At the top of the ridge, we hit the paved La Sal Loop Road and followed that down the other side. Red rocks and mesas were all around us, and we took in the sights from viewpoints over places like Castle Valley, Polar Mesa, Hideout Canyon, and The Narrows along Onion Creek Road. The roads were all wide and well-maintained, so travel was fast one we had cleared the Kokopelli Trail, outside of Moab. Exiting Onion Creek Road, we turned north onto the highway and followed the Colorado River for fourteen miles, before turning west on a rocky track that crossed a number of deep washes, heading towards the defunct Yellow Cat Mine.
The Yellow Cat was an active uranium mine in the 1940’s through the early 1960’s and was instrumental in supplying uranium for The Cold War buildup. This was a desolate place, and we did not see another vehicle on the twenty-five miles of road cutting through the area. As we exited the old mining district, we passed under Interstate 70, connecting the middle of Utah to Grand Junction, Colorado. Our destination of Green River was only 35-miles west on the interstate, but our route was first taking us up into the Book Cliffs Recreation Area, a sandstone escarpment that runs east towards Grand Junction. We began winding 1,000-feet up the Book Cliffs, with numerous deep canyons and high rocky outcropping on both sides of the smooth dirt and sandstone road. At 5,600-feet the road turned west along the Book Cliffs, winding in and out of the canyons for 25-miles, before turning south back down the escarpment, towards Green River. We were tired and hungry, but the road, which had been smooth and fast, slowly degenerated into a dirt single-track with deep washes, as the road flattened out. Mike almost got stuck in what looked like a large but shallow water crossing, which quickly swallowed his Jeep in 18-inches of thick mud hiding underneath the water. Fortunately, he was able to back out of the mud and we were able to find a makeshift route around the obstacle.
We got it into Green River, where we fueled-up and then made our way over to Ray’s Tavern for some of the best burgers and beers that I have had. We had pushed hard to make it 150-miles to Green River, so did not stop for lunch along the way. After the great meal, everyone’s plate was clean when we left to find a campsite for the night. Or so we thought.
Coming out of Ray’s Tavern we quickly noticed that one of Dan’s tires was flat. This is the first time in several thousand miles of off-road driving that I had seen a flat tire, but it is not uncommon. Off-road driving requires lower tire pressure, usually 12 to 20 pounds depending on the conditions, and that can lead to a higher chance of punctures due to the larger surface area of the tire contacting the ground, and in the high desert that ground has a plentiful supply of sharp rocks. With the sun setting, it was decided that Dan would swap his tire out, while the rest of us made it up on the San Rafael Swell to find a campsite. This would be 20-miles across sandy desert terrain until we hit Green River Cutoff Road, for another 20-miles of well-maintained gravel road. I do not have any auxiliary lighting on my Jeep, so I was sandwiched in between Adam and Mike, who both had their off-road lights blazing. Note to self: Even though I loathe driving at night, there will be situations that require it. We ended-up at large horse camp near the Wedge Overlook and were able to guide Dan in via radio. It had already been a long day when we stopped at Ray’s for dinner, so now everyone was thoroughly bushed.
In the morning, we made a quick trip out to the Wedge Overlook on the Little Grand Canyon and took in the views of the San Rafael River, some 1,200 feet below. It seemed every time you turned around in this country, there were red rocks and deep canyons. Those views were coming to a close, though, as we left the Swell and headed north through open range land towards the town of Wellington. We were traveling up a valley, with the Book Cliffs to our right, and the Manti-La Sal National Forest on our left. It felt odd to be travelling through flat terrain after so many days in the mountains. The respite would be a short one, as we would be climbing up Reservation Ridge into the Uinta Mountains later in the day. The guys fueled-up in Wellington – I was still fine with my 17-gallon auxiliary fuel tank that I had filled in Green River, so I just grabbed fuel for me – gas station burritos – and we headed out of town on Nine Mile Canyon Road. It is paved nowadays, but Nine Mile Canyon Road has a rich history as a wagon road, connecting then Fort Duchesne, to the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad that ran through Price. Even before the wagon road, Nine Mile Canyon was a major indigenous north-south route through the 1,000-foot-high western edge of the Book Cliffs and the Roan Cliffs, that cut east-west across the area, forming an imposing barrier. Nine Mile Canyon is nine miles in name only, as the deep canyon cuts some forty miles through the steep cliffs, with numerous side canyons branching off, along the way. Just a few miles shy of one of the many petroglyph sites along Nine Mile Canyon Road, called Pig Head Rock, we turned west through one of these branch canyons, called Argyle Canyon. This was some really rugged country, but as we worked our way some 25-miles up Argyle Canyon we passed a number of remote ranches and vacation homes. We exited Argyle Canyon at US Route 191 and crossed the highway onto a Forest Service Road that took us up and over Reservation Ridge at 9,500-feet. It had snuck up on me, but I realized that for several hours we were now traveling through terrain that was much more familiar to this Oregonian, with stands of pine and fir trees as far as one could see. We were traveling along the aptly named Reservation Ridge Road, with the Uintah and Ouray reservation off to our right, as we traveled due north along the high ridge for ten miles, before turning east-northeast on Timber Canyon Road.
We were soon traveling through the Strawberry River Valley with high canyon walls off to our left, and thick stands of cottonwood trees along the river, to our right. There were several water crossings in the valley, as tributaries drained down the cliffs to the river on the other side of the road. It was a warm afternoon, even at 6,000 feet, so we found a cool spot along the river amongst the cottonwoods to break for lunch. We all agreed that this setting was amazing and reminded us more of Colorado than the terrain that we had experienced in the early days of this journey. Each of these western states has so much to experience that it is impossible to do it in a single week-long journey, but these Backcountry Discover Routes do such a great job of capturing most of what each state has to offer. It is unfortunate that the entire pacific coastal region has so little public lands available, making one of the west’s most amazing regions difficult to experience in a meaningful way. There is a natural experience and a tourist experience, and I much prefer to see things as they have been for hundreds or even thousands of years.
The best teacher is experience and not through someone’s distorted point of view.
– – Jack Kerouac
After a relaxing lunch break, we exited the Strawberry River Valley and headed north across the Uinta Basin, towards the mountain range. The Uinta Range is the highest in Utah and the only western mountain range that is oriented east-west, instead of north-south. After summiting Reservation Ridge at over 9,000 feet earlier in the day, we had been traveling at mostly 6,000 feet through the Strawberry River Valley in the Uinta Basin most of the afternoon.
We climbed quickly to 10,000 feet before dropping back down several thousand feet, only to climb again to Bald Mountain Pass at 10,500 feet. Due to their east-west orientation and with us traveling south-to-north, the Uintas became a high-elevation rollercoaster of peaks and valleys, with stands of pine, spruce interspersed with numerous grassy meadows and high-elevation lakes and ponds. Unlike Bears Ears where the weather rolled-in to spit some rain on us in the evening, it remained completely clear in the Uinta’s. We began scouting for a place to camp for the night as we traveled across the well-maintained Mill Hollow – Duchesne River Road, which seemed an odd name for this road since we were at 9,500 feet. We eventually located a spur road that led us to an open area with endless views of the valley below, along with another mountain ridge on the other side. This Saturday would be my last night with the group, as work was beaconing on Monday morning – leaving me with just Sunday to travel 1,000 miles back to Portland. It is a small price to pay, for this kind of experience.