Jason and I gave my family members their pick between four potential activities as their birthday presents in 2023. A morning of rappelling down waterfalls was the wildest of these alternatives. In August, the brave individuals who chose this option headed into the mountains with a few canyoneering guides. Here is the synopsis of that soggy and slippery adventure.
A hanging valley is a valley that enters a larger one at a higher elevation giving the appearance that it is hanging.
Our group started on some 35-foot cliffs in Big Cottonwood Canyon to improve our minimal rappelling skills. Then, we moved over to Little Cottonwood and the Lisa Falls Trail. Lisa Falls is a popular destination as the hike to it is extremely short, and it tumbles at an unusual askew angle over imposing granite blocks. Although Jason and I had been to the waterfall before, we’d never explored the elevations above it. As we discovered, what’s beyond is even more impressive.
Short climbing makes hazardous paths less likely to cause substantial damage.The Little Cottonwood Canyon glacier was the largest on the Wasatch Range, taking up 12 miles and spilling five miles out of the canyon into Lake Bonneville.
Lisa Falls extends out of a hanging valley formed by a glacier tributary. This valley is distinctly U-shaped and once held heavy ice that flowed into Little Cottonwood Canyon’s larger glacier. That greater glacier covered 12 miles of the canyon in ice up to 850 feet deep at one time.
Granite chiseled by ice and augmented by a mountain environment makes for a charming spot to dangle.
We used short climbing to get up this hanging valley. For those unfamiliar, short climbing is a technique used to make difficult terrain safer to scale. It involves linking multiple people together via rope to decrease the chances of any of them falling unhindered.
Jason is both curious and daring, the perfect combination of attributes for an adventurer.
After we had climbed this attractive crevice, we rappelled down. We did five rappels, three of which were slick and drenching. When rappelling a waterfall, you must face away from the rock and only use one hand to descend. Otherwise, the force of the water combined with the slippery surface may turn you upside down and/or cause significant rock whackings. Asking the inexperienced to do one-handed, front-facing rappels is asking a lot. Apparently, most of the waterfall sections in this canyon are classified as 3C, with the last of those being 197 feet long. I’m too inexperienced to fully understand the substance of those ratings.
This active spout was an alleged “dry” route.
However, although our route was sometimes tricky, the views distracted us from being intimidated. The area was beautiful beyond our expectations. We had no idea Lisa Falls extends so far up the mountain on a path that is exceptionally gorgeous. The scenery also distracted us from our sogginess. It turns out, waterfalls are wet. Everyone returned sopping and nearly all returned with scrapes. Our niece received the most significant abrasions of the outing when both her knees banged against a rock during a descent. Still, no one was complaining. On the contrary, the magnitude of one nephew’s smiles increased in proportion to the magnitude of the soaking he was presently receiving. Unlike him, I elected to take two of the optional “dry” routes instead of going down the area with the heaviest current. One of these was far from dry, and I got thoroughly re-drenched from the waist down.
It may seem obvious that waterfall rappelling involves wetness, but currents still surprise.
What an awesome adventure! Our clothes came back smelling of pine and mountain mint, the scents that permeated that alpine water. Like our fits, our bodies too returned refreshed.
My family has been going to the Utah Shakespeare Festival off and on for decades. In the summer of 2023, my clan made this outing work again over a long weekend. Family members came and went at an almost comical frequency, and Jason and I were the constants who stayed through their arrivals and departures. From transformative phrasing to transformative proliferation, the two of us relished the unrelated opportunities of the unique surroundings. Here’s a little taste of our relish and spread.
The first group of family who joined us in Cedar City was a sister and two nieces. With them we shared A Midsummer Night’s Dream and pizza. That play is a favorite of mine as it is silly, witty, and full of jackasses.
Double Arch Alcove tempts mindfulness with cooler temperatures and countless rhythmic drips.
The next morning, as family members were traveling back and forth, Jason and I headed to the Kolob Canyons portion of Zion National Park. Zion was the third most visited national park in the U.S. in 2023. However, its Kolob Canyons district, located separately in the northwest corner of the park, sees far less tourists. Kolob is home to a number of box canyons, gorges with only one entrance/exit and walls 2,000 feet high. We journeyed down one of these on the Middle Fork of Taylor Creek Trail.
Taylor Creek is likely the most popular hike in Kolob Canyons. We saw a fair number of people as we headed up but had the alcove and the return route entirely to ourselves. What alcove? Double Arch Alcove is the primary draw for the Taylor Creek Trail. Double Arch Alcove, despite its name, contains no visible arches. Instead, there you will encounter a dramatic grotto with sandstone shelves stacked in towering layers and covered in thick moss. Not only is the scenery captivating, but the moisture and shade create mild temperatures and a melodic stereo of drips, which enrapture other senses.
Fife and Larson worked on their cabins together using materials brought to the area by horses.
Double Arch Alcove is this hike’s endpoint for most people, but we decided to investigate what secrets the canyon beyond might possess. We were rewarded with a waterfall about half a mile upstream in a circular chamber carved by water. As scaling this feature was impossible without gear, it marked the end of our upstream travel.
Although we started hiking around 12:30 and finished up at 4:30, catching much of the August afternoon’s heat, we got sweaty but not sickly. That was thanks to temperature highs that were uncommonly low, just in the mid-80s, a nice treat for Southern Utah in its most searing time of year.
If you are familiar with the Taylor Creek Trail, you may be wondering why it took us four hours to finish about 5.8 miles, especially with an online completion estimate of two hours. Some of the blame for our dillydallying lies in man not nature. This path passes two small historic buildings constructed in the 1930s, the Larson and Fife Cabins. These structures were once owned by Southern Utah State College (now Southern Utah University). Professors used them while grazing sheep or goats in the area before it was a national park. Of course, we had to stop for a closer look not just graze by.
A little dehydrated but otherwise in good shape, we met up with a mostly different group of family that night for Romeo and Juliet. You always hope the ending of that play changes, but it never does.
The next morning, we went to the Festival City Farmers Market. Although this bazaar is tiny compared to Salt Lake City’s, it was still fun to scan and purchase some local wares and grub. Afterward, we held a picnic in a park we often utilized when we came down to Cedar City as youngsters. Then, it was off to Jane Austen’s Emma the Musical. This performance included both beguiling tunes and Mr. Knightley. Need I say more? Macarons and bookshops followed. Then, The Play That Goes Wrong. The Play That Goes Wrong is hilarious and extremely British. It was first performed in London starting in 2012 and has been running there ever since. It’s a whodunit play within a play. Spoiler alert: everything goes wrong.
That was the end of our shows but not the end of our adventures. Jason and I have wanted to see the Pando for a few years, so we decided to make that happen on our return drive. The what, you ask? The Mando? The panda? Pando, the world’s biggest and densest living organism, is comprised of a single quaking aspen’s clones- 40,000 of them. It is spread over more than 100 acres and weighs 6,000 tons. Any gym rat knows that bulking up takes time, and such is the case with Pando. Its age is estimated between 3,000 and 14,000 years making it one of the oldest, if not the oldest, organisms on the planet. Where can you find this dendrophiles’ delight? It is located near the shores of Fish Lake about 45 minutes from both Richfield and Torrey. Acquiring outstanding views of Pando, however, takes a little more effort than just getting to the lake. It can be hard to differentiate Pando from the other aspens around it. Here are the deets on how we remedied that.
Pando is Latin for “I spread.”
We parked our cars on the lake’s south side at Sewer Lagoon Road, just a bit off the main highway (UT-25). Then, we walked down the road about a quarter of a mile to an access point for the Lakeshore National Recreation Trail, which goes around the entire perimeter of the lake. Cars with enough clearance can just drive to this trail access, but one car in our group was too low.
We took the Lakeshore National Recreation Trail to the Rim Overlook, which has a posted sign. Then, we continued for a quarter mile past a gate at the top of the hill until we hit a rock outcropping on the left side of the path (west) with a fantastic prospect of Pando and Fish Lake. If you are looking out from that viewpoint, where can you see Pando? It will be to the southwest with its northeast corner at the campground, just west of the group sites.
This vista was better than others we passed on the way. Though the route was longer than what we found outlined online, the 6.2 miles RT were worth it. The scenery was a beautiful mix of forest, shoreline, and wetland, and we saw no one while hiking. Despite its lack of traffic, the path was well maintained. Overall, I was impressed with Fish Lake, and I’d happily come back. FYI, the trail is mostly flat for about a mile and a half and then heads up a series of switchbacks. My mother, who is in her 70s, made it a mile out without any problems.
Our oversized weekend flew by with a few chaotic moments as family members arrived and left. However, it was less hectic than other years since group numbers were low at any given time. Jason and I didn’t let chaos or cultural masterpieces impede us from appreciating natural wonders. From monologues to monoclones, the outing was anything but monotonous.
There’s a lack of information about Fossil Butte National Monument online, probably because there’s a lack of tourists visiting it. I like tourist attractions that lack tourists, so I am going to share my experience and advice about this one.
Fossil Butte National Monument is near Kemmerer at elevations between 6,600 feet and 8,000 feet. Why does that matter? Studies have found that for every 1,000 feet of altitude you ascend, you gain an 8-10% increase in ultraviolet ray intensity. Translation? Expect to get more sunburned at Fossil Butte.
The electrolyte and fluid makeup of the body changes at higher altitudes prompted in part by hormonal alterations and fluid metabolism modifications. These changes can lead to increased urination. Translation? Dehydration is more likely at Fossil Butte. While I feel I should share those cautions, they aren’t the inconveniences we noticed most at the monument. The mosquitoes, on the other hand, we definitely noticed.
Sego lilies grow in the high desert.
The average amount of time a visitor that’s “really into fossils” spends at Fossil Butte, according to Trip Advisor, is 40-45 minutes. We spent nine hours there. Does that mean we are completely bonkers about fossils? Maybe, or maybe we just don’t have TikTok-sized attention spans. Either way, if you like to explore, it’s easy to spend a day at the monument.
At the monument’s visitor center, impressive fossils are on display. There are even coprolite exhibits in the bathroom. If you understand why that’s hilarious, this monument should be on your must-see list. There are also ample opportunities to learn at the center. We went to a ranger program, If Rocks Could Talk, and watched a couple short videos on the park’s fossils and quarries.
Afterward, we went hiking on a few of the monument’s five trails. There is next to no information on the internet about the hiking trails in the park, so here’s my contribution to online knowledge. There are two maintained trails in the park, the Fossil Butte Nature Trail and the Historic Quarry Trail. The park’s three unmaintained paths are Cundick Ridge, Eagle Nest Point, and Rubey Point. Here are the deets on the three paths we did… and another great opportunity for me to remind you to bring your DEET.
Fossil Butte Nature Trail
We were expecting this trail to be overly tame and lame, as “nature trail” is often code for a route that barely qualifies as hiking. Instead, we found a delightful path through an aspen grove and up a sagebrush steppe that was draped in emerald and rainbowed by ample wildflowers. We counted 34 distinct flowering species as we climbed, including sego lily, larkspur, flax, arnica, and Indian paintbrush. The trail is 1.5 miles and leads to a viewpoint overlooking the monument. While it is short, it heads uphill for a significant portion of its length, making it a decent workout. The mosquitos are persistent in a few sections, even in the middle of the day, so spray yourself down! This was our favorite of the hikes we completed at the monument. It was also the only footpath there we saw other people on. We came across two groups on it. So crowded! Not!
The Fossil Butte Nature Trail was brightened by over 30 kinds of wildflowers.
Cundick Ridge Trail
Although we couldn’t find much information on the unmaintained trails in the monument, we decided to attempt one of them. All three paths are on old dirt roads. Two, Cundick Ridge and Eagle Nest Point, start at the same spot and later branch. Rubey Point begins just a few minutes from the others. We drove by all three, and Rubey looked more overgrown, so we opted to try one of the others. As we began walking down the road for the other two, we commented that it was in pretty good shape for an “unmaintained” path. That opinion didn’t last.
The Eagle Nest Point fork looked overrun and faint, so we opted to head toward Cundick Ridge. Although the path remained obvious during the entire hike, sections were being reclaimed by tall grasses very successfully. The trail passes a power station or cell tower or something along those lines about a third of a mile from its end. After that, it becomes much less distinct, probably because the only vehicles that have traveled it in years have come to access that technological apparatus.
Fossil Butte has a singular look, which can be appreciated at the endpoint of the Cundick Ridge Trail.
The overlook at the terminus of Cundick Ridge, a windy endpoint, provides extensive views of the area. We saw no hint of humans from that vantage point or anywhere in route, which was a plus.
This trail is mostly flat, with just a few small hills. If you want a laid-back, secluded path and don’t mind wandering through vegetation, this could be a great option for you. As I have some issues with grasses, my calves became itchy from brushing against them repeatedly, but the reaction was manageable. Although the monument’s website claims this path is two miles, it turned out to be 2.5. This was the only hike we did at Fossil Butte on which we didn’t get bombarded by mosquitoes, probably either because of the higher elevation, wind, or lack of water.
Historic Quarry Trail
This hike is 2.8 miles if you include the spur to the quarry, which I’d recommend doing. If you are intrigued by the history of fossil collecting in and near the park, this is a terrific trail choice. If you hate mosquitoes, you may like it a little less. They swarmed us in certain spots undeterred by our layers of repellent.
This quarry was only utilized for three years before the formation of the monument in 1972.
The quarry accessed by this route was excavated for three years prior to the creation of the monument in 1972. The path also passes the tiny cabin of a fossil collector named David Haddenham who made a living off that pastime for 50 years starting in the 1910s. Plenty of informative signs and the chance to visit a genuine quarry make this a compelling path. Like the trek before, we encountered no other hikers.
This small A-frame cabin was built by fossil collector David Haddenham in 1918 for his seasonal fossil hunts.
Fossil Butte is fantastically uncrowded. If you prefer a peaceful hike to a flashy one, this might be your kind of place. I’d plan for more than 45 minutes though… like 8 hours and 15 minutes more. And don’t forget the repellent!
Thus ended our outing to Kemmerer. If you are the curious sort, it’s a magnificent place to go fishing.
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