Uinta: More than Meets the Eye
When traversing the high mountain ranges of North America, hikers can usually expect to see particular flora and fauna, geological formations, geology and hydrology. Whether you're exploring the Southern Sierra in California, the San Juans in Colorado, or the North Cascades in Washington, you can anticipate unique features in each range. Still, in general, they will have a lot of similarities — north-to-South chains with glacially formed valleys, typically standard ecology over the length of the range.
I have been lucky enough to hike many mountain ranges in North America over the last few years, including the three I mentioned above. At this point in my hiking career, when I get ready to hike into a new range, I think I know what to expect for the most part. Sure, I'm always excited to maybe see some new wildlife or unique views, but in general, I think I know what I'm going to see.
Recently though, mother nature completely blindsided me as she's done time and time again. It was when I went up to the Uinta Mountains in Northern Utah to hike the Uinta Highline Trail. The Uintas are incredibly unique and different from most other North American ranges in quite a few ways. When considering what I might like to write about and share from the trip, all I could think about were all the firsts I saw in the Uintas. So rather than a traditional thru-hike trip report, full of mileages, elevations, day-to-day activities, and such, I'd like to focus on the mountains themselves. They were the star of the trip and deserve their comeupance.
Many thanks to my friend, hiking comrade, collaborator, and photographer extraordinaire Ryan "Kodak" Brown for supplying the photo half of this photo essay.
Anyways, without further ado, let's explore the Uintas together.
A Change in Direction
The truly defining feature of the Uinta Mountains is that they run East-to-West. As I began with, almost every significant glacially formed range in North America runs North-to-South. Going into this hike, knowing nearly nothing about the Uintas, their perpendicular direction to what I was used to was what I was most intrigued to explore. All of a sudden, I wouldn't be coming down the North sides of passes, but rather the West sides. How would this change the geology of the range? What differences would I see in the ridges and valleys? I was excited to see.
The Uintas are part of the greater Rocky Mountains, which makes this directional change even more surprising. Just about every sub-range of the Rocky's runs North-to-South. Formed around the same time as the rest of the Rocky's (70-50 million years ago), the Uintas developed this opposite direction due to the Colorado Plateau rotation.
The visible results of this East-to-West direction that a Uinta Highline Trail thru-hiker will see are so impressive. I couldn't believe how differently a basin looks when it is getting light from a direction 90-degrees different from the one I was used to. Every time I came over a pass, I was blown away by the basins' sheer size. The thing is, though, they were probably about the same size as the basins one might see in the High Sierra - maybe three or four miles wide. Light can play fantastic tricks on our brains, though, and being exposed to twice as much light as a similar basin in a North-to-South range makes them look twice as big.
Two Ranges in One
With the hindsight of hiking the entire Highline Trail now, I can't help but ruminate on just how different the East half and the West half of the range are. It almost felt as if we started a brand new trail halfway through.
About 40 miles into the Highline Trail, hikers will go past Chipeta Lake. It is accessible by car via a dirt road, like many areas in the first 40 miles are. It does not take long after leaving Chipeta Lake to enter a wilderness incomparable in remoteness to that of the first 40 miles. Soon after this break, the trail enters the High Uintas Wilderness in the Ashley National Forest. The lower, more moderate, and less intense climbs are a thing of the past. Pass after pass of 12,000 ft + elevations will show a hiker a range unrecognizable to the same range they began their hike with.
A fault zone falling right in the center of the range, splitting it along a North-South line, explains this difference. The Western Uintas are entirely higher than the Eastern Uintas - by over an average of 1,000 ft!
When the trail brought us into the Western half, I was blown away on every single pass. The intensity of the slopes of the mountains and the size of the basins was significant. The further West one hikes, the deeper into the mountains and more remote they will feel.
I would be curious to hike this trail in the opposite direction in the future. I can only imagine the differences in experience. Of course, hiking any trail in two different directions will feel different. On this one, I can only guess the difference in the range will exaggerate that difference. Perhaps there’s a yo-yo in my future?
Where are the Glaciers?
What's a defining feature of glacially formed mountain ranges? Usually, glaciers are a pretty good answer. That's not the case in the Uintas, though. This is actually the highest mountain range in the United States without any modern glaciers. The dry Utah climate, unique from wetter climates in the Rocky's across Colorado and Wyoming, is the reason for this. While climate change is undoubtedly responsible for the glacial retreat in mountain ranges across the world, it isn't the case here. The Uintas are so unique in having just the right conditions not to have any modern glaciers.
This lack of glaciers leaves those massive basins I mentioned earlier completely wide open. Their walls are tall and entirely visible. Whereas a glacier will usually get in the way of observing all the geological history on the walls of a basin, they are entirely in view. The trip through history that it can take you on is incredible.
A Wild Place
The five days we spent hiking in the Uinta Mountains were perhaps packed with more wildlife sightings than any five days I've ever spent in the backcountry. The sightings started before we even got on the trail. On the ride up to the Western trailhead at McKee draw - a beautiful drive along the Western edge of the range - a group of bighorn sheep stood innocently on the highway's side. Once the hiking began, the wildlife only became more abundant.
Hiking in late July is prime wildflower season. The Uintas hide vast meadows inside their outer barrier of peaks, all of which were lush with colorful pedals for us to enjoy as we walked by. Of course wildflowers are a part of a hike in most mountain ranges. The hidden aspect of these flowery meadows was what made them special. An unsuspecting hiker may come around a bend to find millions of colors awaiting them.
These mountains are the furthest south that one may find a moose in North America. Not three miles after passing Chipeta Lake into the more impressive half of the trail, we came out to a small lake in a big clearing. Six moose stood knee-deep in the water, enjoying an evening break. The isolation of humans and moose was a feeling I had never experienced before. We drank from the same streams and slept under the same stars, called the same valley home. The remoteness of the mountains, along with the abundance of the moose, feels rare. How many trails in the world can one experience that combination? Not many, I would argue.
Elk, deer, many birds, goats, chipmunks, and more all populate the Uintas. Every day we the humans were in the minority. Perhaps we'd see three or four other hikers. Multiple sightings of all other creatures were all but guaranteed.
The animals aren't the only wild part of the Uintas, though. There is an element of wildness and danger to them that certainly isn't unique to this range, but its amplification cannot be denied. Thunderstorms.
After two days of perfect weather to begin the trail at lower elevations, the electricity in the air changed as we worked our way up to the high country. Perfect, temperate mornings gather heat and electricity and turn into massive, intense, awe-inspiring thunderstorms every afternoon.
Making the high-passes after 3 PM becomes risky and often impossible. On our penultimate day, we pushed over Red Knob Pass with a storm bearing down right behind us. The adrenaline rush was intense and frightening, but the challenge proved worth it. Looking down on a thunderstorm from 12,000 feet is an experience unlike any other. You can do that in the Uintas.
As quickly as these massive storms form, they will fade away, leaving afternoon sunshine in their wake. Not ten minutes after sneaking over Red Knob Pass, we found our new basin to be in perfect condition.
I am feeling refreshed and rejuvinated after hiking through these mountains. I think I can speak for Kodak in saying he got a similar positive experience out of the hike. As we head into our next adventures, we will carry the spirit and uniqueness of this incredible mountain range with us.