I probably had no business trying to climb such a demanding mountain peak, but when Linda said she wanted to visit a rock shop (named the Boneyard) in Delta, Utah, I had to give it a shot. After last year's debilitating bout of plantar fasciitis, I didn't start hiking again until August. The pain is gone, and I'm enjoying building back some conditioning by summiting smaller mountain peaks, but Notch Peak is different altogether.
Part of the House Range, Notch Peak is best known for its sheer cliff face. Not part of the National Park system, base jumpers work their way to the top to leap off the 2,200-foot cliff face, among the highest vertical drop in the United States. [1]
We dug, sifted, and washed away 50 years of dirt and debris from the hidden treasures of cut rock and slabs to my wife's delight. The Boneyard is the former location of a successful rock shop where end cuts, mistakes, and pieces that didn't make the grade have been piled high and buried. The new owner allows rock hounds to come on-site and pick through the tailings for $1.00 per pound. Considering you are just as likely to find Bacon Agate as you are Turquoise, it is a rock hounds goldmine.
After more hours than I imagined possible, we pulled away from the Boneyard with buckets of rock and one big smile on Linda's face. After dinner at Ashton's Burger Barn (our favorite place to eat in Delta), we begin the long drive on US-6 and 50 to the Amasa ATV Area. Part of the Miller Canyon road, the Amasa ATV Area, hosts a large staging area, restroom, and covered picnic area. The weather is hot, and I expect we will have the staging area to ourselves for camping. The dirt road drive is long and dusty. And several cars greet us at the staging area when we arrive. There is plenty of room for everyone, so we pull along the outer fence and set up camp.
The next mountain range past King Top, Great Basin Nation park, boasts one of the darkest night skies anywhere. We sat in our camp chairs, waiting for the show to begin. It's not often enough; I am held spellbound by nature's beauty. I'm luckier than most as I live in an area blessed with abundant wonders; however, the stars that glitter above us in the night sky are indescribable. We spend an hour watching satellites move across the sky, gazing at the arm of the Milky Way, that we call home, and just when it couldn't get any better, the moon began to climb from behind the horizon. Red in color, the nearly full moon, captured the attention and imagination as it soon drowned out the night sky with its illumination. What a show!
I didn't sleep as well as I should have; I got a later start to the trailhead than I was intending, and by the time I started down the track, I could feel the heat of the sun on my back.
The approach to Notch Peak is a long and grueling trek through a series of gravel creekbeds to arrive at the mountain's base. Not difficult, the track is easy to follow as it moves from ravine to ravine. Some minor obstacles exist, but for the most part, it is merely a long walk.
Long, slightly uphill walk in loose gravel.
And soon it ends—the trail spiders at a dry fall near a large pine tree, as I opt to take a well-worn track under a Juniper tree and up the connecting hillside. The way is steep as the trail works it's way up to a cliff band before moving west and following above the existing ravine. Now about 50 feet above the stream bed, the way is marked with cairns and seems well-traveled.
Looking back over the roughly 2.5 miles of ravine hiking
Turning a corner, I spot the summit of Notch Peak. According to the GPS, it is only 1/2 mile away (as the crow flies), but I'm out of gas, and my arches are starting to hurt. Truthfully, I made it further than I expected to do, which gives me hope of someday returning to stand on this fantastic summit. I'll be taking a long way down, which doubles the hiking for us earthbound adventurers, but I look forward to watching others take flight.
Notch Peak