Fall Special

Mount Beulah Scramble!!

Wasatch powder settled over my skis after a series of six turns down a steep inbounds slope at Brighton. Navigating the deep early season powder between exposed boulders and stunted trees was some work. As I paused to catch my breath, Wade was finding his way to the nearby upper end of a short but narrow chute. As I detected some hesitation on his part, and as he realized he had descended low enough to have eliminated any other ski route options, I pointed out from my better physical perspective how he might ski the chute. “You will have to hop turn off your start and shoot the gap between either of those 3 bushy trees then break back hard right and miss the rocks”. ‘Pretty straightforward’ Wade must of thought. He considered my advice and pushed off, split between the 2nd and 3rd bush trees, broke hard right and made another couple turns before stopping to look back up at me as if to say “your turn!” I pushed over to his starting point and was unpleasantly surprised by the difficulty of the maneuvers Wade had just executed. Sometimes I feel like Wade defers to me as the better skier of the two of us. But he had gracefully made simple-looking moves of this rather challenging sequence; Indeed my previous perspective wasn’t as simple as I had seen it. Shooting the gap between the trees wasn’t too bad. The hard right just after that had to be precise and very quickly executed or else I would be eating rock face for lunch. I hesitated, and then again. Finally I pushed off - The soft snow denied firm footing  (just as it must have for Wade), but I split the gap between the trees. I planted my right pole to pivot my body and momentum for the sharp right hand corner. I made the corner but found myself awkwardly off balance. My struggle to regain my stance was futile in the waste deep powder. Over I went. Right into 50 inches of Wasatch dust. No consequence. Gravity provided the option of continuing my “crash” as a roll to get my feet back under me and I put together 3 or 4 turns before I stopped again. Before I entered the chute and while staring at the limited width to execute the maneuvers, Wade had already earned my respect for making it appear basically effortless. He had thought it through and merely instructed his body to execute. No tumbling or rolling for him!

In September 2014, Wade and I set out for a 3-day adventure to Mount Beulah on the north side of the Uinta Range in northeastern Utah. We both needed a mountain experience to a challenging peak, somewhere beyond the Wasatch that was almost literally our back yard. We discussed the La Sals, the San Juans, and some other venues, but given time constraints we had to choose from areas closer to home. 

The Uintas are strewn with several peaks over 13,000 feet, and several more between 12,000 and 13,000 feet. But most of the peaks in the Uintas are benign compared to Western US standards, with shallow approach ridges and somewhat dull vertical relief. By no means do I mean to say the area is not beautiful and enjoyable, but compared to the Eastern Sierra or even the Wasatch, the Uintas are just ‘flatter’. As I combed a list of peaks in the western reaches of the Uintas, I came across Mount Beulah (12,557 ft). The pictures I found of it were striking; a sharper somewhat blocky peak adorned by multi-faceted cliff bands, and a long slope to the canyon bottom below. The best picture was of Mount Beulah painted by the setting sun in bright pinks and oranges set against storm grey skies. 

Certainly, this was more in the realm of the type of peak we were after. The closest mountains are actually Mount Beulah’s north and south sub peaks. These sub peaks made great side trips for us, making the trip more attractive. The only remaining requirement was satisfied by a large creek along our approach route and near enough to any camp we might make to provide a decent fishing experience we sought as a secondary activity.

We made plans and some Friday late in September we drove the entire 2 hours to the trailhead. We got started in late afternoon to avoid taking time off from work, so we knew we needed to hustle in order to reach a good location from which to attempt the summit. Wade did plenty of research of his own for this excursion so that we could both talk intelligently about our plans in the morning and what side-objectives we might include, such as South and North Beulah peaks. We agreed to attempt from the north side, thus we would include North Beulah Peak in our ascent itinerary for sure, and consider South Beulah Peak once we reached the Mount Beulah summit itself.

Wade and I enjoyed great scenery on our seven-mile approach to our campsite. In further support of the claim that the Western Uintas are relatively more rugged, the trail to camp passes a waterfall pouring off of a glaciated bench, the fall itself is probably over 200 feet tall. It’s cascade continues for several hundred more feet before reaching the dominant flat grades of the lower valley. Such a fall is rather uncharacteristic of most Uinta valleys. Unlike many Uinta trails, this trail incorporates a series of switch backs to gain the glacial bench from which the waterfall initiates. Night was falling and and we hadn’t found a great place to camp. Plenty of aspen in the lower parts of the canyon signaled the changing seasons and  the upper peaks had a dusting of snow from a storm a week earlier. The days were shortening, and this did not make our late afternoon approach a great idea, but just before it really got dark, we found a flat spot suitable for our tent. As we pulled in and removed our packs, I was shocked when the cold immediately hit my back. I had to put more clothes on immediately, it was probably below freezing and all I had on was pants and a tshirt. We headed to bed early for an alpine start to reach Mount Beulah the next morning.

The cool night was the only impediment to otherwise good sleep. We awoke and were moving just after first light. From our camp we headed cross country through thick but avalanche stunted trees. At times we could not even see the ground due to the thick foliage. Our intended route was a long and steep scree gully that could be reached only after crossing the debris runs left behind by the avalanches. Our trekking poles were our greatest asset in balancing across loose boulders and occasional tree stumps. After forty-five minutes of this debris slog, we obtained the more consistent incline and surface condition of the steep gully leading to the ridge line, some 2,500 feet above.

The going up the gully was your usual scree gully slog. Unstable rock and soils marred the way. Above us, there was only one last patch of stunted trees far up and to our right. Otherwise, the environment was alpine. Wade and I exchanged leads a few times. About half way up the gully, a chololate-brown vein of crumbly clay-like material extends across the gully. This made the going a little easier because it was essentially bed-rock and didn’t collect any sluff from above. So at least for a while, we could ascend easier, without the sliding and settling each step required lower in the gully. Just above this point, the gully split like a Y. From our vantage point, each branch appeared to terminate about the same elevation. Because North Beulah was north (or left) of our gully system, we chose the left gully to follow to the ridge. We couldn’t tell then that the gully died out onto the open upper slopes off North Beulah. After climbing about 2.5 hours, we reached the crest of the ridge and bathed ourselves in the eastern sunlight warmth. Once we got to the ridge, Wade and I were both pretty sure North Beulah was either an immediately adjacent knob, or just beyond the knob. Looking South at Mount Beulah, and judging our relative elevation from it’s summit, we knew North Beulah couldn’t be much higher than our current elevation. 

We dropped our day packs at the ridge and headed for North Beulah. The first knob was a false summit, but the true summit was only three or four minutes beyond across rocky but mild ascent. The summit of North Beulah is truly benign. Other than offering a fantastic view of Mount Beulah, there wasn’t much more to offer. Vertical relief to the east and west is dramatic, but this is the case along the entire length of this 12-mile long ridge. However it is a 12,000+ foot peak, so obtaining it’s summit warrants some attention if you are a peak bagger, and to gain good perspective of Mount Beulah’s north face. Also from North Beulah, you can gain a sense of a large un-named pinnacle forcing the approach off the ridge between North Beulah and Mount Beulah. From North Beulah, we descended back to our packs, and further down loose blocks and scree to a large saddle. From the saddle, it was all ascent to Mount Beulah, other than navigating around said obstacle. 

From memory I would guess this pinnacle to be over 100 feet tall. To go over it would require technical climbing equipment, which we did not bring. We opted to by pass this feature on its west side which involved some careful moves, 3rd Class probably, though a slip would not have been pretty. We encountered snow a few times from this point forward. Enough rock and boulders were available to mostly stay off the snow however, so we did not find ourselves wishing we had crampons or axes. The shoulder of the mountain steepened considerably, to the point that short sections of 4th class climbing were necessary. Exposure to vertical relief became more intense the closer we got to the summit, but to exaggerate the exposure is pointless. There are far more exposed approaches to be found in most mountain ranges. In a few places, we found the best route to be on the east side of the shoulder. But even here loose rock, snow and steep terrain required full focus. Any mistakes in footing could easily result in a fall over steep cliffs below. Our route flip flopped sides of the ridge, but as we neared the top, we could see our route would stay on the east side of the shoulder for a couple hundred yards, until the summit was reached. 

As with most alpine summits, the top was so close, but the going was slow. A band of blocky rock guards the summit and made us consider which sets of cracks fronted the least resistance.  Once we pushed through this band, we continued through boulders and gained the summit block proper from the south. Just before noon, we summited Mount Beulah! The summit block was about the size of 2 king mattresses. A cold breeze was sweeping the summit so we sat low and soaked up some sun for warmth. We noticed a large bird soaring on the the thermals far below in the valley to our east. Within a few seconds, the bird made an impressive ascent to an elevation towering over us, and we traced the bird as it crossed our ridge and beyond. In a matter of 15 or 20 seconds, that amazing creature covered more geography than we did in 7 hours! 

After a quick snack, we explored the southern extent of the summit area to investigate the likelihood of continuing to South Beulah. The going would be rough. From the summit, immediate cliff bands would force us west down very loose scree leading to even more cliffs. We could not see a clear path southward; too many drops. Even if we took the time to navigate this descent, we were probably ill-prepared (no rope/harness) for a safe traverse to South Beulah along knife-edge ridges and significant obstructions along the ridge. This face was the more dramatic side, the same side displayed in the aforementioned sunset photograph.

Sadly I was also developing the beginnings of a migraine headache. Unfortunately these come up on me sometimes. We brought plenty of water and were about half way through it at this point, so I do not know what the trigger was this time. Perhaps light?  In any event, Wade suggested we descend a steep gully, the last such access to the north end of the west face of Mount Beulah we passed on our ascent up the north ridge. Climbing down to this point required care on loose rocks and occasional ice. Every step a jarring of my frame sending another pounding revolt into my amassing pain.

The descent gully was very loose and steep. The limestone rocks and boulders were mixed with widely varying sizes, so that developing a stepping pattern within was futile. Wade and I were left to carefully navigating about 100 steps at a time. We found one or two scree runs that we could glissade upon, which just made me wish for more because it was so easy. We had descended several hundred feet vertically and several cliff bands below us prompted us to descend in a more northerly diagonal direction. We down-climbed a few short sections to avoid unstable boulders in the gully, and eventually found ourselves on the smoother terrain where dark colored soil bands traverse Beulah’s lower ramparts. From here though the going was steadily difficult and tedious. We had been descending for about one hour - not bad to have covered so much ground. But I was getting to a point with my headache of needing some serious relief. I sat and closed my eyes several times hoping the absence of sun glare might help. It didn’t.

We found our way down more loose terrain, some of which was obvious moraine from historic glaciers no longer present. At this point, we encountered trees once again, which only made the way-finding more grueling due to downed tree trunks and thick vegetation. After another hour and a half or so from this point, we arrived back at camp. As happy as I was about our ascent and descent, my headache was literally making me sick. I crawled into the tent and struggled to find a decent nap, but eventually picked up 20 minutes of actual sleep.

I felt bad about my headache and the whining Wade had to listen to. I’m not even sure what he did while a rested, but if I know Wade, he either read a book, explored the nearby creek, or graciously took his own nap against a tree!

My headache eventually subsided, so Wade and I enjoyed some stream fishing close by. We enjoyed a good campfire making use of a very small percentage of abundantly available downed tree material (the bark beetle infested this area in recent years). Night came and so did the cold. We went to bed about 9:00 and hiked out the next morning. We arrived at the car to find a flat tire awaiting us. Fortunately some forest road maintenance crews were in the area and after some slow careful driving on the flat, we aired up using an onboard compressor on one of their trucks. Aside from the astonishing Fall color display of yellow and red Aspens, the drive home was uneventful. The trip, though relatively simple, was a good one, not soon to be forgotten. 

Working up to the summit with Wade gave me a deeper respect for his decision making abilities relative to safety and sound judgement in the mountaineering context. If you can mountaineer with someone you trust to balance safety with goals, you tend to be a lot more safe while having a lot more fun! While skiing at Brighton that perfect blue-bird day, Wade not only demonstrated judgement, but also ability. Together with his natural skills mountaineering, he makes a good climbing partner. I would venture to guess we will set out for more similar adventures!