DAY ONE: Left my mother in law's at 6:30
am. Arrived at the Center Park trailhead 35 miles north of Duschene, Utah at 8:45
am. The last stretch of road up Hells Canyon was supposed to be very rough, almost
4WD reccomended, but had been recently graded and was no problem at all.
The
first few miles of trail were through a combination of second-growth open forest
and open park-like shortgrass meadows which we shared with several bovine companions.
Easy walking, though. All that changed just beyond the wilderness boundary. The trail
turned rocky and moderately uphill, and which gave Brian all kinds of problems. Not
so much the uphill, but the bouldery scrambling slowed his progress to a crawl. After
a 400-foot climb, we topped out above timberline to spectacular views both across
the canyon, and north to our eventual goal. When we started dropping down into Swasey
Hole, the slow progess returned as the trail cut right across a boulder field. As
we worked our way across Swasey, it became evident that we might not make our first
day goal of Spider Lake. Another slow rocky taverse around the ridge into Garfield
Basin confirmed it. We camped beside a small stream just inside the basin, having
taken 10+ hours to cover 91/2 trail miles. Brian was obviously tired, and might have
been suffering from the altitude-hard to tell with a kid who doesnt talk.
DAY
TWO: After seeing the difficulties that Brain had had the previous day, I abandoned
our previous plans of a distance hike up to the head of the Yellowstone Drainage,
then over the Porcupine Pass into Upper Lake Fork to see one of the most remote spots
in the Uintas. I guess we are remote enough here, and crowding was not a problem-all
week, there were a total of four groups in the entire Garfield Basin, and we were
the only ones not on horseback. Having decided that, we ate a big breakfast, and
moseyed up the trail about 21/2 miles to the largest lake in the Basin-Five Points
Lake. Upon arriving, we discovered it was, in fact, partially a resevoir, complete
with earthen dam and concrete spillway-and a dozen miles from any road(!). But it
was also a very nice place to set up a base camp to explore the Basin, with plenty
of campsites up in the trees to the south and west of the lake. I chose a spot well
back from the lake, where I thought the mosquitos would be less. (wrong). We spent
the rest of the day setting up camp, walking along the lakeshore-one of Brians favorite
activities-and I tried my hand at fishing (no luck).
DAY THREE: Up early, I packed
a daypack with lunch, camera, fishing gear, and of course, our raincoats, as well
as map and compass. After breakfast, we headed along our original route towards upper
Garfield Basin. As soon as we left Five Point Lake, we broke out into incredible
above-timberline alpine country. No bare rocks here, all was green and open, with
generous displays of wildflowers-mostly small, such as Asters, Bluebells, and Buttercups,
with an occasional red lupine. Creeks flowed from every direction from the high peaks
around us as we worked our way around Superior Lake. As we neared Tungsten Lake,
I spotted an unnatural-looking rock sitting on the top of the moraine. It just did
not match the grey and rust of the other boulders. Upon close inspection, the "rock"
turned out to be a fluffy baby blue bath towel, left to dry by the lake. If someone
had been taking a swim, I do not envy them, as the lake appeared to be filled directly
from snowmelt, and at over 11,000 feet, would be more likely to induce hypothermia
than refreshment. From Tunsgsten, we headed up the trail to North Star. Freed of
his pack, Brian seemed much more lively, and certainly covered more ground. He would
run ahead on the trail, then stop and wait for me while flapping his arms. At North
Star, with not so much as a bush in sight, I was surprised-and irritated-to find
a well-used fire ring. Where they got the wood I'll never know. Saw some big Cuttthroat
Trout swimming within a few feet of the shore, but in what was becoming a trend,
couldn't get a nibble. From North Star, we left the trail, looping generally back
towards camp cross country, just enjoying the scenery and fishing the small pothole
lakes-you guessed it, not a bite. We did detour up to a low spot on the main ridge,
and I stared straight down 1,500 feet into the Lake Fork Basin. What a sight! Open
alpine meadows, crisscrossed with winding ribbons of streams. Lambert Lake, our original
destination, looked like a small blue puddle tucked at the very head of the basin.
Big bare rust-red mountains, and not a sign of man to be seen. I have got to get
in there someday, though I do not know how or when. This trip was probably my best
shot, since upper Lake Fork is a long approach from any direction, and I do not come
to Utah every year by a long shot. That is the problem with backpacking. So many
trips, only one life. I hope God allows backpacking in heaven, its the only way I'll
get to all the places I want to go. The view from that gap in the divide *almost*
made up for it, however. As we picked our way down the mountain, the weeks first
thunderstorm caught us out in the open. Brian actually seemed to enjoy the rain and
hail. I was pretty nervous about the lightning until we got down to treeline. Saw
lots of Deer and marmots, a ptarmitigan (sp.?), several quail, and evidence (read:droppings)
of mountain goats. It stormed on and off all evening and most of the night. I did
manage to solve on this trip one of the more troublesome problems that I have had
over the years on extended trips with Brian. Without going into the gritty details,
lets just say that the solution involved a travel pack of daiper wipes and glycerin
suppositories. Just thought I'd throw that in there. :-)
DAY FOUR: Rained most
of the morning, so we ate a cold breakfast in our tent. Brian takes to being tent-bound
very well. While I read or look at maps, he just curls up in his sleeping bag and
wraps a coat around his head. It seems to make him feel secure or something, but
he can happily maintain this position for hours, occaisionally napping, but usually
just breathing deep and letting off a random bellow from time to time. When the rain
let up around 10:30, we just headed out again, this time staying within a mile or
two of Five Point, since the weather was threatening. Just rambled and gazed and
tried to match wildflowers to the Audobon book. Ate lunch around one, then headed
back, just beating another big thunder-bumper back to camp. The rain cleared off
about five, so I tried to fish again(you would think I'd learn), while Brian just
wandered around camp up the hill from me. Suddenly I realized I couldn't hear him
anymore. Jogged up the slope to camp-no Brian! The thought of Brian lost was completely
frightening, as dark was only a few hours away. Just as I was starting to really
worry, I noticed the tent flap was pulled back where Brian had dived in and sacked
out. Whew! Brian slept the rest of the evening, not even stirring when I pulled his
boots off and stuffed his feet in his sleeping bag about nine. Around midnight, he
did wake up for a few minutes, so I had him stand in the tent doorway and well, "go"
into the night and the rain. Good thing, since he had a full bladder and would certainly
have had an accident by morning. I can't believe I'm going to post this stuff on
the 'net, but I wanted to give a flavor of what it is like to be Brians companion
in the mountains for a week, and keeping track of his bladder and bowel is certainly
part of it.
DAY FIVE: Roused Brian at 8:00 for breakfast, which he ate and promptly
went back to sleep. Very un-Brian. He is usually up with the sun. If he was exausted,
you would think it would have happened after the first two days when he had been
under pack, not after the easy ramble of yesterday. My guess is that he had a bug
or something, but once again, he can't tell me anything, and he seemed to feel better
after his sixteen hour snore. We pulled out of Five Point about 11:30, just heading
back a couple of miles to an unnamed lake about a half-mile off of the trail. Arrived
just in time to take shelter under the pines from a tremendous hailstorm. It accumulated
about a half-inch on the ground in twenty minutes. Brian seemed a bit confused but
not worried. Remember, he likes to have a coat on. His hands were getting wet and
cold, so I stuck a couple of mitts on them, which he seemed to appreciate. In fact,
he was upset when I took them off a few hours later despite a warm sun. We found
one of those perfect camps by this lake-a flat waist level rock for a kitchen, tons
of down wood for a fire, sheltered flat tent site,-the works! Around 6:00, the clouds
cleared out to beautiful dinner/fishing/sunset weather. I fixed up a batch of brownies
for desert. Brownies always taste great, but five days from the road, there is nothing
to compare! (Except the treat on day seven, maybe. But thats a paragraph or two away.)
One last try at fishing, where I was officially skunked for the week. After the fire,
Brian and I sat in the tent door and watched the stars come out. He may not have
understood as I pointed out the three whole constellations that I knew-both dippers
and Orion-but he sat placidly and looked at the night sky for the better part of
an hour. It was another one of those semi-magical moments where he seems more in
my world than in the Autistic universe he usually inhabits. The night was the coldest
of the week, so I made sure he had on a jacket, as he tends to creep out of his sleeping
bag in the night. I snuggled deep into mine, and slept like a rock.
DAY SIX:
Time to start heading back towards civilization. (Sigh) Spent the day retracing the
same rocky trails that gave us so much trouble the first day. No pressure to get
to a particular goal, so I let Brian set his own pace. He obliged, averaging just
under a mile an hour. The boulder field that was so hard going down was even more
fun going up. I understand that these trails would pose little problem for a young,
fit backpacker, but for Brian, the rocky inclines are a major obstacle. We did find
a fine campsite to spend the night. Right at timberline, with a snowmelt stream for
water and a panoramic view down into the canyon of the Yellowstone River for a picture
window. It had only been used a few times judging from the state of the camp. After
a sunny day, a shower shows up just as I am fixing dinner, so we down our biscuits
in the rain and head for the tent for the rest of the evening. It rains until just
past midnight.
DAY SEVEN: Today is Sunday, and as such will be our day of rest.
After a relaxed pancake breakfast, I spend the morning reading scriptures, contemplating
my place in Gods universe, and enjoying being with my son. Brian seems to really
like our cathederal of pines, he just wanders around the grove, bellowing happily
from time to time. The morning is cloudy, but grows fair as the day passes-the opposite
of a typical Uinta pattern. Fixed a treat for lunch-Chocolate Chip cookies! The aroma
drives the natives wild. Two magpies start hanging around, just waiting for me to
turn my back, while a squadron of kamikazee chipmunks sends scouts dashing right
at my kitchen rock. The only solution seems to be to eat all the cookies as swiftly
as possible, so Brian and I dedicate ourselves to this ardous task, which we presently
complete. Temptation elimintated, the local color blends back into the rocks, so
I decide to wander up to the top of the bald ridge above our camp. Great view from
the top both up into the basin and down to the meadows where our Jeep awaits in the
morning. In fact, I think I can just see the trailhead and our car at the far end
of the binoculars resolution. Any fantasies that we are the first to trod up here,
however, are dispelled by the appearance of a tattered orange flag at the high spot
in the ridge (Surveyors?), and a windbreak/small campsite constructed in a spot of
krumholz pine. Oh well, it was a nice delusion while it lasted. Dinner and the evening
turn wistful as I talk to Brian, telling his how much I enjoy doing this with him.
He comes over and gives my dirty hair a big sniff, then giggles. Good old BJ.
DAY
EIGHT: A clear night, so I take the rainfly off of the tent so I can just pack it
up in the morning without airing it out. A fast breakfast of cold cereal, and we
are headed out by 8:00. Within a half-mile, we are clear of the rocky terrain and
back into the meadows and open forest. Without the weight of the weeks worth of food,
Brian makes much better time, but his dad keeps stopping for "rests", not
wanting this sojurn in the wilderness to end. But shortly after ten, a flash of green
metal thru the trees tells us that we are back to the trailhead and our Jeep. There
are two large, horsemounted parties of bowhunters preparing to head in, and we pass
a couple more on the drive down the canyon. This week will be a bit more crowded
than last with the beginning of hunting season. After a week of navigating by map
and compass, we actually get lost for a little while among the farm roads above Duschene!
But shortly after noon, I am parked in front of a gas station, calling my wife and
daughter to let them know we are safe, and grabbing a couple of sodas before the
two hour drive back to Orem and my family. The soda tastes good, but I can't help
but compare it unfavorably to ice-cold snowmelt. Like every trip, it was a wonderful,
magical time. With enough time in the mountains with Brian, I can handle just about
anything civilization cares to dish out.
Lorin John
aka "Buzzard"