Hell’s and Winter’s Revenge

Utah’s last winter was relentless with a constant barrage of storms. While the season’s grip on most of Utah was unyielding, we headed down to our favorite sunny section of the state, Moab. We don’t often visit Moab in February, but it’s not that hard to convince us to go anytime. We were joined by the families of a sister and later a brother. Here’s how our winter trip away from winter turned out.

Hell's Revenge
Hell’s Revenge is rated a 6 out of 10 on difficulty without its optional obstacles yet it remains one of Moab’s most popular 4×4 trails.

Our first full day, we went on a Hell’s Revenge jeep adventure with Dan Mick’s Jeep Tours. Dan Mick is a legend in the jeeping community, and we were lucky enough to have the man himself as one of our drivers. His son Richard, a talented helmsman, was our other.

Moab the magnificent
Whether you are on foot or on wheels, Moab is magnificent.
Hell’s Gate
Hell’s Gate, a horseshoe-shaped add-on most jeepers skip, heads steeply down a ravine and then back up it.

The Hell’s Revenge 4×4 Trail is 6.5 miles long and only recommended for experts, hence our hiring of drivers. My sister’s family hadn’t done any jeeping before, and they were surprised by the ruggedness of the “expert” terrain. Going up the Baby Lion’s Back, a thin sandstone fin and the first substantial obstacle encountered on the trail, our niece’s delight grew in proportion to her mom’s terror. That pattern remained constant our entire tour. We did Hell’s Gate, an optional side loop through a treacherous gully, and added extra obstacles including the Escalator and Mickey’s Hot Tub. The Escalator was the craziest of the three. It was also crazy to have a legend like Dan Mick driving us. And yes, Mickey’s Hot Tub was named after him because he was the first person nutty enough to drive in it.

Mickey’s Hot Tub
Mickey’s Hot Tub is a deep pocket in the sandstone, one of the few in the area vehicles are allowed to crisscross.
The Escalator
The Escalator is a sequence of natural steps climbing up a slickrock wall that are almost undercut. According to our guides, it is the most difficult obstacle along Hell’s Revenge.

The next day, we hiked in Arches National Park, a place my sister had never been despite all her years in Utah. Although temperatures were only in the high 40s, the sunshine made the outdoors quite pleasant with a jacket or two as we trekked 2.5 miles RT to Tower Arch. Tower Arch is always a favorite of ours due to its lack of popularity. We also checked out Double Arch along with the Windows and Turret Arch on the Windows Primitive Loop, which is 1.2 miles and definitely not less popular. We finished that hike in the dark, which freaked my brother out a bit. It’s a productive day when you make your brother a little nervous in pursuit of a completely harmless activity.

Tower Arch
Tower Arch’s 92-foot span is willowy yet solid.
inside the tower
The same arch from a different angle can appear completely changed.

Along with cherished trails, we introduced the group to the Love Muffin Café and some of our other favorite Moab eateries.

a spire of solitude
One can find the solitude at Tower Arch that many of the other arches in the park lack.

On the way home, we stopped at the Athena Launch Complex near Green River, a place we promised a niece and nephew we would take them. We didn’t ruin anyone’s exploration with information about the purpose or identity of any of the fragmented remains at the compound. Instead, we let the group discover and brainstorm the functions of the lingering pieces before finally revealing all we had learned at and after our last visit. See my post on that last visit if you are curious about this intriguing defunct site.

Double Arch
Double Arch attracts tourists and filmmakers alike.

Our short but unclouded outing to Moab let us temporarily ignore the ferocity of winter and introduce family to some of our beloved routes and restaurants. It was naturally delicious!

Lodging in Limber

To rent a cabin near Solitude or Brighton Resorts in the peak of the downhill season, one must act in summer. That’s when we secured the Limber Pine Lodge for a little winter getaway with family in the later part of January last year. Reserving in summer requires faith that snow conditions will be adequate to justify all your efforts. Praying to the snow gods helps. On this occasion, our devotion was rewarded. The frost immortals blessed the slopes with more accumulation than hoped, and we gratefully accepted all they bestowed. You may recall that Utah’s last winter, 2023, was rather unbelievable. That’s the record-breaking snowbank from which this story emerges.

Solitude without solitude
My dad didn’t stay at the cabin, but he did join us for a day on the slopes.

The Limber Pine Lodge is located near the Milly lift at Brighton. Although a perfect location, as mentioned, renting a cabin for a snowboarding trip in January in Utah is always a bit of a gamble, but we hit the jackpot this time! Brighton had already accumulated over 120 inches even though it was early in the season. There was so much snow covering the cabin that several of the windows had been boarded up for reinforcement. The roof was obscured under layers of white that resembled properly laminated pastry dough. Icicles wider and taller than me encased the structure like the deadly bars of a crystal prison. The front door opened to massive ice pillars and a pile of snow almost as tall as the door frame; it was not an entry or exit point any longer.

prolific powder
Is this much snowpack normal for Utah in January? No.

Eager for a flurry of interactions, snowboarding at Solitude was first on our outdoor agenda. It was delightful of course. Afterward, our niece joined us at the cabin a night earlier than the rest of the gang. Since I was just returning to activity following a break in my foot and dealing with a related knee injury, I decided to put on some shoes the next day rather than a board. While Jason went boarding with a friend at Brighton, our niece and I took to Solitude’s Nordic Center. We spent a couple hours completing 2.8 miles along the Cabin and Silver Lake Loops. I’m not sure how blizzards became the weather standard for us while snowshoeing, but that’s what we got again. With clearly marked trails, there was little opportunity to lose ourselves literally like we did at Soldier Hollow just weeks earlier (post pending), but we did lose ourselves figuratively in the churning flakes. Outside the pressed snowshoeing trails, our snowshoes sank over a foot into the mounting precipitation. In some spots, we could plunge our poles completely into the loose powder without impediment. Unreal!

solidly Nordic
Snowshoeing is the quiet and steady inverse of snowboarding’s fast and flashy character.

We only saw a few other groups during our entire journey adding to the sensation of being adrift in a shifting, alabaster realm. Snowshoeing is slow and deliberate; the pace may have been too measured for our niece. There was no complaining, but she seemed eager to go back to the cabin and the wild sledding track and elaborate fort she had created with Jason. More family arrived that night.

soft and hard
Falling into powder this deep is soft and easy, but getting out of it is another matter.

Jason and I got out of bed at 6:40 the next morning to start boarding preparations as soon as we saw Brighton’s report of 12 inches overnight. The snow at Brighton was even more amazing than expected! Giddiness abounded. Two nephews and a niece all rode with us and progressed to Rachel’s Run, my custom path that is a mix of blue square and black diamond. Another nephew went off on his own for a large share of the day and progressed to who knows what.

Snake Creek Pass
From Snake Creek Pass, Heber Valley, Mount Timpanogos, and Big Cottonwood Canyon are all displayed.

We tried to go to dinner at Honeycomb Grill at Solitude that evening; my brother had made our large group a reservation. However, there was an accident down the canyon, and we barely made it into Brighton’s parking lot after being stuck in a traffic jam for over an hour. We resorted to eating at the Alpine Rose at Brighton. It wasn’t remarkable, but at least it was hot. Somehow, after that tiring day, we got enough ambition to play some games, and the next morning we dug our cars out of their waxen cocoons to start home.

knee pleas
Powder up to the knees? Yes, please!
powder elation
Snow brings joy.

Our Limber Pine Lodge outing proceeded much better than anticipated thanks to an unprecedented amount of snow that fell at precisely the ideal time. Praise be! The snow gods answered the powder prayers of this slope enthusiast!

Griddles and Slopes

For many years, I’ve been saying that the holidays get too busy for us, as they do for many, which tends to make them stressful. Last Christmas was typical in that regard. Admittedly, a significant portion of this commotion was self-inflicted between ambitious gift making and outdoor mania. That brings me to the unusual aspects of our holidays, those caused by uncommon footwear. In mid-September, I was booted due to a fractured foot. When Christmas hit, I wasn’t wearing the boot anymore, but I also wasn’t able to do much because of a hefty number of remaining activity restrictions. That all changed during the break… and then quickly changed back. Here’s a bunch of bits about our Christmas and how a boot, rather than stockings, dictated its outlooks and outcomes.

Before I get carried away on the subject of foot attire, let’s discuss gift making. Both my family and Jason’s drew names for Christmas way too late last year. Then, I decided to take on three projects for my recipient, my mom. One project was a scrapbook, another a custom slideshow, and the last a feast of nostalgic foods I’d never attempted to cook before. All these handmade items had to do with Scandinavia, either our recent trip to Denmark or family memories of Christmas dinners with a close Norwegian friend from decades before. Tasty and tender, that’s what I’m all about.

a family moment
Family togetherness is an essential element of the holidays.

Krumkake, a Norwegian waffle cookie that is often filled with flavored whipped cream, was culinary experiment number one. Krumkake was a staple at our Norwegian Christmas feasts when I was a teenager. It requires a special rotating griddle to make. Thus, I was intimidated. However, it was easier to successfully krum the kakes than expected. It only took Jason and me roughly an hour and a half to make about two dozen. Unfortunately, that hour and a half was from 1:00 to 2:30 in the morning.

Christmas rice pudding with cherry sauce, a Danish holiday special, was another dish we aimed to make for my mom. Some of the aspects of this recipe are unusual. Yet, our first trial attempt turned out perfect, to our surprise. However, when we made it on Christmas Eve, this time for my family, the result was less ideal. It didn’t set up properly and remained runny. After all that work, we didn’t want to serve something subpar. As we didn’t have the time or ingredients to make another batch, we scrapped the pudding. Frowny face emoji!

krumkake
Whether you are Scandinavian or not, I’d recommend the delicious tradition of krumkake.

That wasn’t the only cooking concentrated around our Christmas. Between krumkake, rice pudding, Amish breakfast casserole, bean with bacon soup, and cheddar-chive biscuits, most of our Christmas was spent in the kitchen, excluding a six-hour break to visit with my family. Eating it all was pretty nice though.

Somehow, we were ahead on the wrapping front and didn’t need to do much of that last-minute standard on Christmas Eve. Besides cooking, we just had to complete an activity charades video for our nieces and nephews illustrating the outing options they could pick between for their Christmas present.

I'll be gnome for Christmas.
Amidst the whirl of giving and baking, crafts were constructed.

The wrapping may have been under control, but with all projects considered, we didn’t get a chance to open our presents to each other until a few minutes before Christmas was over, as usual. My gifts from Jason were treasure themed. They included a pirate coin from 1659, a cosplay dagger and cutlass, and an enigmatic package from the Mysterious Package Company.

snowshoeing at Sundance
Sundance has a delightful Nordic center with trails in the shadow of Mount Timpanogos.

The whirlwind of thoughtful gift and food creation left me frazzled and exhausted, but some of our seasonal endeavors were more relaxing. We invited my sister’s family to make gingerbread houses with us a few days before Christmas. On Christmas Eve, we took a brief respite to play Uno with penalties with that same sister’s crew. During our holiday break, we spent an afternoon with Jason’s grandma putting a seasonal puzzle together and eating British chocolate. Puzzles were a favorite of hers, and she passed away just months later. Some endeavors deserve our time even when time is what we have the least to offer.

a flare for the dramatic
As an extra bonus, Solitude had a torchlight parade and fireworks on New Year’s Eve to celebrate.

A couple days after Christmas, we took a nephew to the zoo. He had so much fun he cried for 20 minutes when we put him in the car to come home and started wailing again when we reached his street. Apparently, he continued to bawl for an hour and a half after we dropped him off. Hopefully, next time less tears will be involved.

The family togetherness did eventually get halted by two things: 1. Another nephew gave a load of people in my family the flu, so some missed the Christmas day gathering and were unavailable for most of Christmas break. 2. I got doctor approval to commence snowboarding a few days after Christmas. Jason and I wasted no time and were headed to Solitude within 45 minutes of that authorization.

a new year and new inches
Fresh powder for a fresh year.

Like an exuberant snowball hurtling down the mountain, we picked up more and more slope momentum. The two of us went snowshoeing the next day at Sundance. We crunched through branches of trees stretched low with a hefty burden of powder. It was enchanting! Though the hillsides were a fluffy delight, we only saw a few groups on the trail. It was peaceful and healing, especially after the months of boot-driven sedentariness. The next day, we went snowboarding again at Snowbasin. I know that’s a heap of mountain resorts in a short period, but I was way too excited about exchanging my walking boot for other types of boots to waste another second anywhere but outside.

And then, at the last minute, we got a place at Solitude for New Year’s Eve. Since many in my family were currently sick with the flu, spending the evening eating Brussels sprouts at the Honeycomb Grill and playing Seven Wonders Duel in a condo wasn’t much of a sacrifice. The 18 inches in 24 hours topping the multiple feet that had collected over consecutive stormy days made it even less so.

a new year at Solitude
Snowboarding was an essential piece of our seasonal joy.

We boarded from 9:30 to 4:00 with only a 45-minute snack intermission; we didn’t want to stop for lunch. Our nephew joined us in the afternoon via the bus. That’s when my knee problem started. What knee problem you ask? Oh, you know, having your knee so swollen you can barely walk up or down the stairs, etc. That boot-induced issue, which turned out to be aggravation in my lateral meniscus, snatched exercise away shortly after its brief return. As I try to limit my posts to less than 20,000 words, the details of that misbehaving knob will be covered at some later point.

Our Christmas break passed in a flash, a flash packed with family, outdoor, and culinary enterprises. It was stressful, memorable, delicious, beautiful, hectic, and exhilarating. In a lot of ways, it was just what holidays should be… and then there was the boot.