| Your grandpa is from Ibapah? Get on your boots. Trip Report |
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| Your grandpa is from Ibapah? Get on your boots.   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: Utah, United States, North America Date Climbed/Hiked: Jul 12, 2009 Activities: Hiking Season: Summer | Page By: JDrake Created/Edited: Aug 20, 2009 / Sep 25, 2009 Object ID: 543359 Hits: 910 Loading... Page Score: 87.17% - 6 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
Reason for goingA few months ago my hiking and climbing buddy Todd (Buckskin Marathon, Exposing Pete to Box Elder) and I were discussing our next adventure. I casually mentioned my interest in climbing 12,050 foot Mt. Ibapah out in the Deep Creek Mtn range of western Utah. “Ibapah?” he said, “My grandpa was from there, and I’ve got family ties to that part of Utah!” I smiled and said, “It sounds like we should pay a visit to the land of your ancestors then.” Todd readily agreed and I found myself fighting back a guilty feeling while thinking “does he realize I just talked him into driving four hours out into the middle of nowhere so I can continue my county high point quest?” But, I soon forgot my guilt and starting thinking about high desert mountains full of granite and green trees.
I’ve spent the last year living in Lubbock, Texas pursuing a graduate degree from Texas Tech. It’s been a great experience—I’ve even managed to pick up the Texas highpoint while out there—but I’ve been aching for a little elevation and alpine setting while being surrounded by the flat, dusty, cotton and cattle fields of west Texas. Sometimes I rode the elevator to the 4th (top) floor of the human sciences building just to get a different view. Sometimes at night, the clouds on the horizon look like the outline of mountains if you squint just right. You can tell the flat has gotten to me. Anyway, while the Wasatch are my home mountain range, I had the feeling I ought to pick a destination more remote since I had company for this trip. Todd and I picked a relatively non-eventful weekend for our trip out to the Nevada/Utah border, well, other than the wedding of his brother taking place that Friday and his parents flying in from their 18 month sabbatical in Vancouver, BC for the occasion. Still, despite the wedding festivities, the time constraints of being a father of three, and of course the anxiety brought on by the thought of hiking with someone of my immense athleticism, Todd was ready to go at our prearranged meeting time Saturday afternoon at 1:30.
Getting thereWe loaded all the gear in the back of the world’s most trusty 1999 Tacoma and began our journey northbound on I-15. I had printed off directions to our campsite at the trailhead and felt pretty good about getting there without much trouble. Soon we hooked up with I-80 westbound and began the drive out to Wendover, NV. After stopping three times and pulling over for Todd to go the bathroom we eventually got to Wendover where we gassed up for the isolation and dirt roads ahead of us. It was also at this point that I realized I was really hungry. Options? Not many, so I ended up driving through the Golden Arches for what—in my youth—was the pre-activity meal of champions: Big Mac Value meal with an extra Big Mac on the side. 30 minutes later as we made our left hand turn off of highway 93 30 miles south of Wendover I realized I wasn’t in my youth anymore and that 2000 plus calories of indigestible matter from questionable origins probably wasn’t the way to start the trip. This was our first mistake, the second came later, and courtesy of Todd…
After 17 or so miles we transitioned from paved road to dirt road and the fun began. Isolated thunderstorms were in the forecast and as we made our way the 12 miles or so to Gold Hill we were treated to isolated storms across the desert valley and the subsequent rainbows they were producing. We pulled into the sprawling metropolis of Gold Hill, Utah. Actually we didn’t even stop as we made the right hand turn at the only four-way stop in town – which was good because as we made the turn what can only be described as a wolf/dog/minotaur/beast shot out from under a porch and attempted to ram its hybrid body into our vehicle. Be warned, if you are traveling through Gold Hill keep an eye out for the red “house” on your right after making the turn. After making this turn we knew we had 5 miles to go before the road forked and where we were supposed to turn left. At just over 4 miles the road forked and Todd and I began our discussion. We both wondered if this was the place we go left, but turning left looked like it would go due east, and not southeast like we were expecting. We decided to go left. A couple miles down the road we encountered an open gate that looked like an entrance to private property. We turned around and came back to the junction. I thought to myself that Dean’s route description said nothing about taking the “first junction you come to that's close to 5 miles from Gold Hill," no, he describes it as being "five miles from Gold Hill." So, we relaxed and continued on down the road. What did we find at exactly the 5 mile mark from our right hand turn in Gold Hill? The road forked again and there was even signage confirming our correct direction. Incidently, if you miss this turn you will come to another junction with additional signage pointing you in the direction of Ibapah and Callao. In my opinion, if traveling in the dark, this is the only area that might prove difficult in navigating to Ibapah. A few more miles, a few more turns, a rocky drive through a wash, past a Pony Express historical section, and with the town Callao on your left you’ll eventually arrive at the CCC campground. We pulled in to see what it was like. If you are exploring the Deep Creek Range over multiple days this would seem a great place for base camp. If, however, you are like us and were coming out to day hike Ibapah, keep going to a sweet camping spot I will now describe. Past the CCC campground a few miles you’ll arrive at the Granite Creek road and take a right. Set your odometer, gps, or psychic ability at this stage because you are going to want to go exactly 5.1 miles to where this road dead ends at the trailhead and motorized vehicle restriction zone. We easily crossed the stream twice during this drive but did encounter a few problems with washed out road, decent sized rocks to avoid, ruts, and some tree branches that liked 10 year old paint. Also, it was during this drive that Todd made our second mistake. He casual said, “You’ve got to hand it to the old timers, their imaginations must have been incredible to come up with such an original name like Granite Creek for an area that has a lot of granite next to a creek.” Dude, not cool to mock the old timers in area – it’s bad karma, especially with your granddad being one of them…
The hikeSoon we were setting up camp in a granite bowl to the left of the trailhead. I set up the reliable Hammerhead 2 (a two person tent that fits one WasatchNut007 comfortably) on a soft bed of pine needles and began sorting gear for an early start the next day. Todd went to work setting up a bed of punji sticks because he can, and because Chuck Norris has nothing on him. Afternoon thunderstorms were again forecasted, so we wanted to be well off the summit area by that time. A perfect fire, three or four perfectly roasted Hebrew National hotdogs, a perfectly ice-cold Coke, and two perfect Tylenol PMs later I was tucked in with the alarm set for 5 am.
I got out of bed at 6:30 and woke to what only can be described as perfect weather. Todd and I quickly ate some breakfast, threw on the packs, and hit the trail. The early stages of the hike are more like an old road that you follow as you slowly gain elevation. It eventually turns into a well defined hiker’s trail and the elevation gain sharpens a bit. It was a beautiful morning and Todd and I passed the early miles quietly enjoying what we saw and occasionally chatting about how fortunate we were to be in a place like this. One thing I really appreciate about Todd is his appreciation for nature. A few years back he and I had a moment where we both realized we had not taken advantage of all that our state had to offer. We’d been to most big name places, but hadn’t seen many of the hidden gems that offer an increased opportunity for solitude, contemplation, and peaceful wondering. Ibapah is that place, we had the mountain to ourselves.
You cross the creek numerous times as you ascend up to the meadow at 10, 000 feet. I’ve included a few pictures taken as we made our way up there. I particularly enjoyed the views of Red Mountain against the blue sky, and of a small meadow (around 9K) that reminded me a lot of my experience hiking Deseret. You’ll find the trail ends where the meadow begins, and in my opinion, where the best of the hike begins as well. We explored the meadow, took a few pictures, discussed our best route, and broke out a little grub. The final destination is fairly obvious, but you have several options on how to get there. We came down a different way then we went up, and based on that experience here is what I recommend: cross the meadow and aim for the bald spot on the ridge west of the unnamed subpeak that I have officially now named as Mt Ed. SP page to follow soon. After leaving the meadow you begin to gently climb through the alpine forest of beautifulness that was one of my favorite spots on Ibapah. It’s tempting to want to wrap right staying well underneath the summit of Ed while trying not to lose elevation as you connect into the trail to Ibapah. We did this on the ascent, and in retrospective going for the bald spot on the ridge and then following the ridge to just below its summit before assaulting Ibapah is the better option. You’ll have some short class 2 sections of fun scrambling to deal with and the views to the west are stunning. Additionally, you’ll make much faster time if that’s an interest. Either way, your goal is to stay high on the ridge and connect with the well marked trail to the county high point. Probably one of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken is the one on the ridge with a large granite block right and the valley opening up center and left. I’ve included it, and feel strongly that you should grant me this one wish and vote highly for it. The western desert gods will be pleased with you. Cheeky, I know, but that’s how I feel about that picture. Okay, moving on. Not too much longer and Todd and I were switch backing our way to the top. For those of you like myself who are hydration challenged, lose copious amounts of potassium, sodium, and other minerals, and who break a sweat just waking up in the morning, I will give you some advice that has helped me: pack a serving of coconut juice no matter how much weight it takes up. Stuff rocks - it revived me on the final ascent up Ibapah.
The views from Ibapah’s summit are pretty spectacular. I had fun identifying mountains from previous climbs and found myself zooming in on what I thought was Swasey and Notch. I remembered standing on top of Swasey over a year ago on a cold May 1st. If you have never been to this area, I highly recommend you take the time and effort. Desert mountains are not what you might think, unless you’ve been there, and then you do know of what I speak. Ibapah had graciously allowed us to the top with little trouble; it would be on the decent that the mountain would have the last laugh so to speak.
Lessons learned Just before we left the summit I began to feel sick, not altitude sickness, but the kind that made me wonder what hostile bacteria the Wendover McD’s was including in their value meals. I didn’t feel that great, but because I had bonked the year before on a hot July 24th carrying 35+ lbs up and down the CCLT to Lone Peak (don’t worry, I still summited) I didn’t want to say anything. We’re competitive that way you see, and I wasn’t about to tell him of my troubles. Besides, I’m sure if I let him go ahead while I puked a bit I’d be fine. We identified our route down the ridge, picked out landmarks, and set off. We took the trail back to the low point along the ridge connecting Mt Ed to Ibapah and then stayed high as we made our way over to Ed. I believe Todd went over the summit and I stayed just below picking my way through the large rocks. Eventually we reconnected and made our way easily down this ridge toward the bald spot you should aim for on the ascent. This really is much faster going and more aesthetically pleasing than staying shrouded in the forest. We got to the bald spot on Ed’s ridge and decided to separate with the goal of meeting back together at the meadow.
A half an hour later we met up at the meadow as planned, but not in the physical state we planned. Todd was hurting. Bad. He had injured himself scree-skiing and wasn’t moving very well. In over 20 years of knowing Todd, I had never seen him in this much pain before (I wasn’t around when he blew out his knee). He wasn’t screwing around, or doing anything beyond his ability, but I won’t describe his injury or how he got it for the sake of brotherhood. I was concerned. Not the “will we get to the top” or “what’s for lunch?” concerned, but the “I may have to carry him out of here/stay the night and we’re a long way from help” concerned. It’s the one time I’ve been grateful for the obsessive amount of gear I pack for just such occasions. We took stock of our situation and Todd wanted to continue on. The camera went away and the rest of the hike can only be described as slowly making our way down while stopping frequently to gather strength. The truck seemed like it kept moving farther and farther away; I swear the gps was playing tricks on me. Eventually we got to the truck late in the afternoon and started the long drive back to civilization…
We made cell phone contact with our wives just outside of Wendover and told them the situation. Todd was doing better stretched out in the truck and we eventually arrived back in Utah Valley just after 10 pm.
That wasn’t supposed to happen, Todd is superman after all. He’s always the one slowing down for the rest of us, asking if he can carry extra weight, asking me to please put on my big boy pants and hurry, etc, etc. It was a good reminder of two things: injury can happen to anyone at anytime, and don’t mock those that have come before you because it’s bad karma – especially if it’s your grandpa who was a tough old goat and probably cursed you for making fun. We’re only now able to laugh at the second half of the lesson.
Pictures
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Utah Western Desert Ranges
