ATV Adventures: Burned-out woods and twisty trails on the Tushar Mountains
Lynn Blamires, Special to the Standard-Examiner
To begin with, I am happy to say that the road closure order for the Silver King Fire by the U.S. Forest Service has been lifted. All roads and trails west of Marysvale are open. The Paiute No. 1 that goes over the top of the mountain into Big Johns Flat is usually closed by now because of snow, but it is passable as of this writing. I got the official statement issued by the Fish Lake National Forest dated Oct. 22. This order still restricted us when exploring trails still open west of Marysvale on the 11th.
We were on a second day of rides guided by Sam Steed of the Rocky Ridge Resort on trails unaffected by road closures. This track took us to the west edge of the Marysvale Valley by the old Marysvale Jail and up the Gold Gulch Road into the Tushar Mountains.
Reaching 8,600 feet, we turned off the road to a knoll that gave us an expansive view of the Marysvale Valley. The enjoyment of that view was cut short by the discovery of crystals glittering in the morning light pointed out by Sam. Quartz crystals were best found by walking toward the sunrise. A glint of light drew me to half a dozen of them.
Back on the Gold Gulch Road, we climbed to 9,000 feet and then dropped down a few hundred feet into a vale where we came to an old sheep camp. It covers about five acres and is called Little Park. Water is supplied by Park Creek which comes out of Cottonwood Canyon.
Sam told us that he visited this site on hunting trips when he was younger. A small wood structure marked the spot, but the most remarkable part of the vale was a giant pine tree shaped like an Indian tepee.
Lynn Blamires, Special to the Standard-Examiner
The lower branches drooped to the ground forming a living wall with an opening shaped like a door to a tepee. There was plenty of room between the trunk and the outlying branches for half a dozen men to throw out bedding and sleep comfortably on a thick bed of pine needles under its protecting cover.
Back on the trail, we came down the canyon to a pole-line road near Highway 89. It took us through the ghost town of Alunite, marked by one tall lone-standing brick fireplace. Alunite sits at the mouth of Cottonwood Canyon. This section of the Cottonwood Loop was not affected by the closure. The Cottonwood Road follows Cottonwood Creek up the canyon, but at about the 8,000-foot level, the Cottonwood Road becomes the Wedge Road.
At the top of the canyon, we took a side road to an old miner’s cabin where we stopped for lunch. So much of the mountain was still above us even though we were at 9,000 feet. It was a great place to enjoy lunch while we gazed at the top of the Tushar Mountains.
Tummies topped off, we rejoined Wedge Road and continued to climb. A couple of switchbacks took us higher on the mountain through tall pines. The view of the top of the Tushar Mountains stood out plainly because the peaks are above the timberline.
Suddenly, the green turned to black. We were on the edge of the boundaries of the Silver King Fire. The fire was out in this area, but we were beginning to see the devastation it had caused.
Lynn Blamires, Special to the Standard-Examiner
We crossed Two-mine Creek and turned off of the Wedge Road. We were headed to a knoll that topped out at 10,440 feet. From there we could see down into the canyon above Marysvale. We had a better scope of the destruction the fire had caused and why the people of Marysvale were concerned about the mountain coming down on top of them with the spring runoff. From our vantage point on the knoll, everything was black from the burn, and on the other side of a ridge to the southwest, we could see that the fire was still smoldering.
We had reached the end point of our ride so we headed back down the Wedge Road. Coming out of Cottonwood Canyon, we took the highway back to Marysvale, finishing a ride of about 53 miles.
Well, the fire is out and the trails are open. When you go, take plenty of water, keep the rubber side down and remember those trails are not going to ride themselves; somebody has to ride them.
Contact Lynn R. Blamires at quadmanone@gmail.com.