I hadn't planned on hiking today; however, after throwing the scratch to the chickens and feeding my wife's horse, I stood in our weedy backyard debating. It wasn't much debate between pulling weeds and the crystal clear blue sky. The weeds could wait, and with more rain in the forecast, hopefully, I'll have plenty of time to pull them while the ground is wet.
This monsoon season has been one of the wettest in years, and thank goodness for that; local reservoirs are low, and water tables are causing concern along with water restrictions. I've lived in the desert for most of my life, and it is remarkable how often we take our most precious resource for granted.
That precious resource has been causing me headaches lately in my attempts to hike and climb, even in the local area. With summer drawing to a close, it will take road crews and maintenance teams months to repair damage caused by flash flooding. Of the few times I've driven the back roads near my home, they all have water damage. Off-highway trails for ATVs have seen even more significant damage due to the remote nature of the ATV/OHV systems. Cattle guard crossings, in particular, are either full of mud and sand, or the surrounding terrain has exposed them. The cattle guards provide convenience to motorists by replacing a gate, the metal crossing bars scaring cows with space beneath their feet, causing the animal not to cross. Unfortunately, none of the cattle guards held empty spaces filling in with mud, at least the ones I attempted to cross.
It was no surprise that my first trail in the Hebron - UT quadrangle north of Enterprise, UT resulted in me backtracking to find a space wide enough to turn my jeep around. The path had utterly been destroyed ahead by a stream that is generally a trickle. However, the mountain I had come to climb still bears the marks of the wildfire that consumed all the vegetation and most of the trees two years ago. Without roots holding the moisture, the small stream has probably seen more flow than it has in years.
“UNP6052. Hebron-UT, quadrangle” copyright BrickBarnBlog2022
I backtrack to the Old Modena Road and pull up alongside unnamed peak 6052. A small knoll of brown grass slopes toward a rounded summit. There is a gentle wind here at the base, but I pack my drone just in case. Forty-five minutes later, I'm standing on a large lava rock that marks the summit's highest point. However, the wind is stronger here, and my first drone flight attempt resulted in a crash. My second attempt resulted in entirely too much effort to keep it from crashing again, so I successfully landed after only a couple of minutes of flight time.
Back at the jeep, I pack my drone, pack, and hiking poles away and debate about turning around and heading back to Enterprise. The debate was caused by my skimpy map development around this quadrangle of Hebron - UT extending from here to Modena, UT. Highway 56 circles around Modena before continuing to Panaca, NV. There are several quadrangles between here and the main highway, and I would love to increase my knowledge of the area.
Old Modena Road is rocky in most places as it skirts the various mountains in the area. Marking the terrain and road conditions is the type of map development I like to acquire when investigating a new location. I note trailheads and tracks not showing currently on my map. I've already indicated the ranked and non-ranked peaks in the quadrangle, and I stopped to take several pictures to study later.
The road base turns to clay as I drop from the mountain range, through the foothills, and onto the valley floor. The road is dry for the most part, and workarounds are present in the deepest mud cavities. Although I generally love to splash and slide through the pits, I am far from home and have decided to stay as high and dry as possible.
There are no tire tracks on the road, so I'm not sure what to expect when I come across an extended muddy wash. Nevertheless, the workaround is faint through the sagebrush, and I follow it as far as possible. Reaching the road again, I am excited to see the road ahead looking dry to Modena, which I can see in the distance. The rain and sand have made the roadway smooth, and I travel fast, ever mindful of the occasional mud hole or wash.
Tracks are now on the route, reassuring me that the way ahead is passable. I feel confident up until I spot a truck in the distance. The Ford sits to the side of the road, and seeing another workaround, my stomach leaps into my throat. The Ford is buried up to its doors in mud. Although it's not the watery mud, and the Ford gave it a good attempt, there are gaping holes around the tires where the owners either rocked back and forth trying to escape or shovel their way out. The truck sits empty, a testament to who won that battle.
Modena's close as I give the stuck vehicle a wide berth following the more recent existing tracks. I wish I'd taken a picture; however, I was more concerned with making it through the bog to stop and stare. Turning the final corner, I slide my jeep to a stop. If I'd looked closely at the map, I would have realized the futility of exiting into Modena. The last 200 yards is a swamp; drainage from the neighboring mountains flows toward the area's low spot of Gold Springs Wash, between Modena and my current location. I check my rearview mirror and see tracks leading back into the mountains behind me. Following the traces of tire marks, I would finally emerge onto Hwy-56 near the Nevada border an hour later, having traversed back along the western foothills of Mount Escalante, thankfully escaping the mud and the boxed-in terrain.
Written August 21, 2022