We had a vacation planned for early July. It became our fourth or fifth one canceled due to COVID… I’ve kind of lost track. Although the original outing was impossible, we didn’t throw in the trip towel. We believed we were entirely capable of coming up with an acceptable alternative. Our acceptable alternative turned out to be much more than satisfactory.
To pick a location for our altered excursion, Jason and I did a deep dive into all the home rentals in the state. Being open to even the obscurest areas gave us plenty of interesting options. A charming cabin was available at a place called Eagle Point. We didn’t let the fact that we had never heard of Eagle Point stop of us from reserving that sucker.
Eagle Point is in Fishlake National Forest. It’s at an elevation of 10,400 feet, keeping it almost 20 degrees cooler than our nape of the woods. In the middle of a hot July, we welcomed that negative 20. We also welcomed Eagle Point’s people deficiency.
On our first day in the area, Jason and I hiked to Delano Peak. Delano Peak is the highest point in the Tushar Mountains, Utah’s third-tallest mountain range after the Uintas and La Sals. It isn’t a typical 12,000-foot+ summit. In our experience, mountains that lofty are usually nothing but massive piles of rock near their tops. Delano was a rolling, grassy contrast. Hardy wildflowers in two dozen varieties colored the hillsides almost up to its pinnacle. However, it was also extremely windy. I had to wear three jackets at the summit. Good thing I am generally overly prepared. In addition to being blown about, Jason and I both got elevation sickness at Delano’s apex in the form of a bad headache that centered around our left temples. Maybe we are getting old, but I’d like to think it had more to do with us being substantially elevated than moderately outdated.
Before I move onto another subject, I believe the trail to Delano Peak deserves a few sentences of its own. This path gains 1,650 feet in 1.5 miles. That’s one foot up for every five feet forward. It’s the kind of steep that gives you grief in both directions. Maybe that’s why we saw more mountain goats than people along route. One human and his canine companion were the only non-hoofed creatures we came across.
My sister and her family joined us the next day. We rented two RZRs, one named Nightwing and the other Martian Manhunter. During the morning, we used our superhero RZRs to access the Lake Stream Trail. We hiked four miles roundtrip to enjoy superb outlooks on Mount Holly and Lake Peak. The path faded into oblivion in some places, discernible only by the occasional marking post. At one point, we completely lost the trail and ended scaling up a long, sheer hillside without it. That may not have been an entirely great idea, but we managed to gracelessly triumph. We encountered 33 different species of resilient wildflower on this hike, many of them diminutive, and zero people.
That afternoon, we maneuvered the RZRs through the Paiute ATV Trail, a system of paths that spans hundreds of miles and is rated one of the top five ATV trails in the United States. Unfortunately, we picked an access point without consulting our map. Had we done so, we might have noticed the section we were headed for was marked “steep, rough, and rocky.” We may have also seen this warning, “Use extreme caution when on these routes.” For RZR novices such as ourselves, no amount of caution could have made up for our deficit of skills. I think that segment took 20 years off some members of our group while others nearly wet themselves. There was some discussion whether we should continue up Sawmill Ridge on Paiute after our rough start. Trail won over road. Fortunately, the rest of our drive was more about the scenery than the obstacles. We made it past Mud Lake to a windy ridge affording fantastic views of Mount Belknap and Mount Baldy.
The rest of our hours were filled with air hockey and ping pong tournaments, along with old 80s movies. Before heading home the next day, we spent a couple hours at Puffer Lake allowing the fishing inclined to reel away.
Most years, Jason and I travel so much our vacations become a bit of a hectic blur. On some occasions, they’ve become two parts enjoyment and one part exhaustion. In contrast, each trip we’ve taken during COVID has taken on all the significance of salvation. Eagle Point will always be part of the squishy space in my heart.