“The drive to Kamas is getting worse every time I come up here.”
That’s the thought I think to myself cruising down UT248, passing by Texas and California license plates that refuse to note the “Keep right except to pass” signs posted, turning off at the new-to-2021 intersection in the once two lane road that’s somehow morphed into five. These mountains, who were once desolate and filled with the promise of isolation and adventure, are now instead being filled with cookie cutter townhomes and duplexs to compliment the resort town of Park City nearby. I’ve got a podcast running about a close encounter of a dog and a rattlesnake so my breath is coming in bated gasps, holding between the news on if she will keep her necrotizing ear or not. Passing through Kamas and past Oakley, the clouds get dark and the sun starts to set behind the old Uinta Mountains that I find myself enveloped more and more into, until I finally hit the bumpy dirt road and continue down the muddy trail.
Pulling up into the camp sight, I take a good look up and down of two folks and their tent set up right at the entrance. Is this my buddy? No way, he said he’d have a camper. I can tell the folks are starting to get a little offput by some odd stranger in his Nissan Murano giving them what probably looks like a squinty mean mug in the dim twilight, so I continue on until BAM, I find the truck and trailer combo I was looking for.
Jayden and I catch up for a bit and I rush to set up my sleeping arrangement before it gets too dark. It’s cold up here, and the late October air is crisp and refreshing. Pine scented winds brush through my jacket and greet my hungry soul with an aroma of comfort. This is my favorite time of the year to be out here in the mountains. As I finish up, I head into the camper, a first time using one in camp for me personally, and I’ve gotta say, it’s pretty damn nice to get out of the cold if you want. I cook up a steak and talk strategies with Jayden about how to approach the morning, this being both our first big game hunts, and we’re wanting to get on the trail early and get some elevation to glass a basin a few miles away. A few jokes are shared, some interesting discussion on space and time pops up as it always does being this deep into nature, and then I head to bead in my hammock. I brought both my underquilts but opted to use the 10F full length from Incubator this time around as I was nervous to test the 30F 3/4th Yeti.
We get to the trailhead around 5:30, and a ground of guys with headlamps glaring are set up around a stove at their luxury 5th wheel camped just about 15ft from the trailhead. You can tell as we park they get the notion that they gotta start hauling ass, and get up in a hurry to hit the trail before us. We give ‘em a decent head start and make our own way up the little dirt path, slightly muddy and plenty chill. Not long after we catch up to the guys moving at a pace not quite up to ours, and we get stuck behind them, not wanting to but in front as they were, technically, on the trail first. The whole time behind these guys was a bit of a bummer, the morning moon being plenty enough to guide the way down the trail and us having abandoned our headlamps to the backs of our packs.
Eventually, about a mile in and at first light, they let us pass and we get some distance ahead of them before jumping off the path and heading up the ridge I had marked last night. It’s a slog of a climb and we both comment on how the guys on TV make it look a hell of a lot easier than it is, but we get ourselves roughly one-thousand feet up from the trail before we set up a little spot to start glassing the opposing ridge and canyon below.
Only 20 minutes or so in this spot the snow clouds that were once miles away on peaks for from us are now making their way into our area, whiting out the whole overlook and obscuring any real vision of movement we might hope to have. I was deadset on sitting through this misery, but my buddy chimes in a brilliant idea: “let’s build a little fire and wait this thing out.”
As he’s gather the wood and processing it down I get to work finding a good spot and then setting up the little log cabin, the patrician fire starting technique. With ease we get the flames going and the fire is heathy in a matter of seconds, and let me tell you, this was hands down the coziest fire I’ve ever had in my life. Sheltered from the snow in our little pocket on the ridge, one side flanked by the hill and rocks, the other, by a few standing trees and one hefty downed pine. I was sitting against the log and Jayden took up a spot on the small hill, both of us close enough to feel the fires warmth as we sat through the flurry. It wasn’t thick snow, and still not cold enough to stick, but it certainly was dark, moody, and incredible to be apart of. A clearing in the trees let us see all the way out through the valley and to the other ridgeline, fading in and out of view with each pass of freezing downfall. We worked up some coffee and lunch and enjoyed our time for nearly 2 hours before deciding to head out, the storm not looking to clear up any time soon.
Once we were about 100ft down, the mountain tried to entice back up the hill by letting up a bit on the snow. Maybe it was actually giving us a break for a less slippery decent, but either way we opted just to get back to camp for this day, having been on the hunt for about 7 hours already. Coming down was a bit of a suprise when the thought of, “holy shit we climbed up this?” really starts to hit. It was a steep way down but not too far to be nerve-wracking, rather just a leisurely fun stroll down the hill. We saw a couple other orange vests out on the trail, so I glassed them up with my 12x32’s; They look even more disappointed than we do.
We’re trying to keep our eyes peeled along the way, hoping to see the one miracle buck that gets us a day one bag, but nothing of the sort happens and Jayden sets a pace to get back to camp. We get split off after a little bit though as I, admittedly, got a little distracted trying to take artsy photos down the path. I’d like to think they turned out alright, but I’ll leave that analysis for you, dear viewer.
Once we get back to camp, Jayden gets the kettle started and shares some fantastic Chai tea he has on hand while I glance over maps and take in the cool outside air with a delicate rain shower passing overhead. This kind of weather is perfect, everything about the day has been phenomenal and I just can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get into a big game hunt. I never had any family or friends who were big into the lifestyle, and rarely get to go out this time of year, always finding excuses or reasons not to head up: It’s too cold, I’m too busy, I’d rather play games. It’s always the same list of options, and every time I do finally force myself to get out, it is without fail my most cherished moments of life. Add to all that the fact that I can jump into a camper to stay warm and still see the views out the window, and it almost feels like I’m cheating at all this, like I am not suffering enough.
After a break we had into town to get a few parts for the trailer as the heater has gone out. Jayden is a hell of a handyman and trained in HVAC, so he knows what’s going on just by putting his ear up to the wall of the interior, as if he knows some secret language of the elder gods uttered only by the mechanical sages and their electric companions.
There’s a BBQ joint in town I’ve been meaning to try and I talk J into hitting the place up for dinner. They’ve got a unique taste to them, real Louisiana style, so the name checks out. Right after finishing the food we ordered to go in the trailer, the sun starts to go out and my eyelids are getting heavy. Normally I can’t sleep until midnight or so, but it’s been a hell of a day and we’ve gotta do it all again tomorrow, so I opt to hit the hay early. I read a few good pages of my latest read, The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker, one I still haven’t finished since my last upload.
I am lulled to sleep by the pitterpatter of rain drops, the rushing creek below, and glaring latino music up the hill coming from another group of campers with an impressive stereo system.
When I wake up, it’s darker than I thought it would be. I thought the moon may have gone out early, but the thing is, it’s supposed to be out from just about midnight up until first light. I take a peek out of my hammock and see get that super cozy feeling; You’re warm and cuddly in your blankets, the air isn’t too cold, and you look outside to see fresh snow on the ground. I give my tarp a little whack a few times and light begins to shine thorugh, the SilNylon cover having been coated in a few inches of snow during my slumber. This trip just keeps getting better and better, and I get out of bed with a smile on my face and head into the camper. It’s earlier than Yesterday, we both wanted to get out before anyone else, and seeing snow on the ground nearly seals the deal that will be the case. We work up coffee and tea, enjoy the warmth, and then set out on our journey.
As we are walking on the trail, the dim gray of first light begins to open up, and I can already tell we are in for a hell of a sunrise. Not a half mile further and sure enough, like a grand transition, the sky fills with color like a flame beginning to rise. First deep reds, amber and violets speckle the atmosphere, and as we continue along the path it turns to a brilliant gold the glitters off the mountains as if they were graced by the touch of Midas. To think, if I had stayed home, I would still be asleep. I would have never seen something this beautiful.
As the sunlight fades to the normal gray filter customary for cool days up in the woods, we spot a Doe and two older fawns making their way along a nearby creek. This is very exciting, and gives us hope that there just has to be a buck nearby. We continue up into the next target basin, but before long the signs of life that were abundant even in the fresh snow below us have now completely disappeared. We both agree that nothing is going to be up this high, and we turn around to get back into the valley below.
Once we get into the valley, we set up on an outcropping of rocks and wait for some movement to come through. We spend about an hour in the area and it’s obvious we are both tired, heads occasionally nodding up and down as we catch some intermittent ZZZ’s. It’s forecast to be windy today and it’s just starting to pick up, and it’s a bitter cold bastard wind that rips right through my soft shell jacket and merino layers. I get zipped up and pull my neck gaiter up over my nose to add a little extra warmth, and I’m just comfortable enough to catch a little nap while keeping one eye open in Jayden’s blind spot. It’s his tag, not mine, but I am here to help out regardless and 3 eyes is better than two.
We are in that spot for about an hour before we decide to move further down. We’re scanning up and down the river to check for sign and it certainly is in abundance but no more sightings of quarry for us. We get started down the trail and I spot an opening we hadn’t seen the day before, wide open right next to the river full of good eating for the big brown critters. We cross over the water and set up again, Jayden is in an absolutely perfect spot for an ambush, but mine is more for concealment than for spotting, as the only good glassing I can do it of the cliffside adjacent to us that’s far more suited for mountain goats than mule deer. So, I whip out my camera and being diligently slow as to not alert anything to my prescence, I set the X-T4 to silent mode and start shooting photos of all the little things I see around me.
We are set up in this spot for a good two hours before we call it a day, making this hunt a 9 hour outing for day 2. That’s all that I had time for so as we get back to camp, I tear my gear down and start getting packed up, wanting to get off the road and back home before nightfall.
Despite not finding a buck or getting a shot to pack out some meat, I loved every single moment of this trip. I am very proud of my buddy Jayden pushing himself way outside his comfort zone to really apply all he has to the hunt and I hope that he finds success, him having taken some 10 days off to get the job done. This trip was a special one in that it taught me just how much I love to get out there in what most would consider “bad conditions” and find solace and peace in it all. It was a stunning time and the natural beauty of autumn in the Uintas was a reminder of why I keep coming back. This is where I belong.
I can’t wait for next year and hope that I get to do this every year for the rest of my life.
Cheers,
PA
This just in:
Literally seconds after I hit the publish button on this post, Jayden sent over a gripngrin with a nice four point buck! Couldn’t be happier for ya bud, congratulations!!!