Jarvis Peak (#11)

The day before my hike I prepared by eating a cheeseburger, grilled cheese sandwich, a cup of malted ice cream and a Pepsi. On the day of the hike I prepared by bringing too little water and starting too late. I felt like it was doomed to fail. 

Jarvis Peak is a little-known summit in Washington County. I'm sure there's some history behind its naming. “Jarvis” is a pioneer name, but I couldn't find any stories related to the peak. I'm sure it was named after George Jarvis, or one of his decedents. 

The Shivwits Reservation lies on one side and the Arizona state line on another. Of the few people who have hiked the peak, most tackle it from the west side. Not wanting to be like everyone else, I chose to begin on the east. 

I parked the vehicle at Laub Pond, which is nothing more than a large mud puddle used to water cattle. I could have started closer to the peak but I chose this location to give me greater distance and also to hopefully have a more gradual incline. 

The first couple miles were relatively flat and dusty. For the most part I followed a cattle trail. Already I could feel the heat building up and was confident that in nearby St. George the temperatures would reach the mid-nineties. 

View from inside a cave.

Only one eventful thing happened along that first stretch. I spotted a pair of caves that sat side by side. I debated whether I wanted to make the detour, but finally decided to go for it. I hoped to find some ancient writing inside, but didn't. Both were large and one went back far enough that at first I thought it was a mine shaft. An interesting hole or tunnel in the rock connected the two caves and by crawling on my knees I could squeeze from one to the other. One had a niche in the back where a fire had been built. I could see the black soot on the wall. Was it ancient or modern? 

After the caves it was time to begin the climb in earnest, and this first part was the steepest I would face all day. Loose rocks and dirt provided no good traction. I used sapling branches of creosote plants to pull me up. After a little stickity-too-ity, I made it to the first little bench where I found an elevated view of the land around me and a small cluster of Utah century plants. 

I followed the ridge on the left to Jarvis Peak.

Utah century plant.

By this point the gnats were awful. They swarmed all around my face and arms, probably licking up the salty sweat. For much of the way up I couldn't help but to repeat a line of poetry I had written after high school: Gnats, gnats, I hate those brats; infesting my body like dirty rats! 

There was very little in the way of beauty with the plants I saw. An occasional cactus here and there was in bloom and also the manzanita plants I would encounter higher up, but nothing like my hike a few weeks ago when the desert was blossoming like a rose. 

Manzanita plants in full bloom.

Final pitch to the summit.  Jarvis Peak is the knob on the left.

I climbed on a ridge that would take me all the way to the summit. To my right sat an imposing canyon that separated me from the next ridge. When I ascended nearly to the top I was met by another imposing canyon on my left, this one much more rugged than the other one. Somewhere on this side of the Jarvis Peak was the Apex Mine, of which I knew little about. 

The final pitch to the summit was another extremely steep section. This was the segment that had the manzanita plants in bloom. 

Lady bugs everywhere on the summit, including on my lens!

When I reached the summit there was a surprise waiting for me: ladybugs. And they were everywhere! At least they weren't gnats and landed on my skin with much more grace. They swarmed all over the rocks and plants. 

Although the hike up was difficult and lackluster, the view from the top was spectacular. To the north and east rose Pine Valley Mountain and the red cliffs north of St. George. To the northwest with much grandeur stood West Mountain, which has the only summit in the Beaver Dam Mountains higher than Jarvis Peak. To the south was the bulk of the Beaver Dam Mountains along with the Virgin River Gorge. I examined all the dirt roads I could see to learn where they went. Faintly visible through the haze were the Mormon Mountains and Moapa Peak in the west. ♠
 

Looking south from the peak.  I believe these roads are connected with the Ajax Mine.

West Mountain Peak, the highest point in the Beaver Dam Mountains.

Pine Valley Mountain.

In the distance is Moapa Peak and the Mormon Mountain Range.  The specks you see are lady bugs!

Jarvis Peak
 

Miles from car (one way): 4


Elevation gain: 2,777 feet


Final elevation: 6,529 feet

Gnats 

Gnats, gnats; I hate those brats, 

They bug me, hug me, 

Infesting my body like little rats.
 

They land in my ear 

And dance on my cheek; 

Like a tiny air fleet 

That can nibble and eat.
 

If I could smack 'em, I'd crack 'em, 

Like a walnut on Christmas Day, 

But each time I slap one, 

Another small pest keeps buzzing my way.

Edge of the Mojave—Peak #10

Just before you enter the Virgin River Gorge from the west, on the right-hand side, there is a prominent peak that captures the eye. Now, to be sure, it's not highest summit around, but it appears to be the most regal. And for years now it has been begging me to climb it. 

There are other reasons it has appealed to me. First, there are no apparent trees. From a distance the mount appears to be made of only of dirt and rock. Second, it stands at the edge of the Mojave Desert, a location low enough in elevation to be hiked in winter or early spring when most of the higher peaks are covered in snow. 

Peak #10 is the slope on the left.

I was excited to get going. It was the third week of April and this would be my first summit of the year. I could not find a name for the peak, so I dubbed it Peak #10. It would be the tenth peak I've climbed since I turned 50 nearly one year ago. 

I doubt this summit gets many visitors. Without a name and without being the highest peak in the area, I don't think it's on too many people's bucket list.

I took the Desert Springs exit and found a dirt road that would take me somewhat close to the mountain. There were a few dwellings out here, but even they were pretty sparse. Those who lived out here probably bought a few acres of land for dirt-cheap and planted a single-wide trailer on it. I kept my distance so I didn't get shot. 😃

Initial ascent up Peak #10.

Utah century plant.

The first mile was on relatively flat ground and through an occasional dry wash that issued from the hillside. The desert landscape, surprisingly, was a symphony of color! The cactus blossomed and wildflowers grew everywhere. 

Once the climb began in earnest, my pace slowed down. The hike was a continual set of stairs, of which at times I had to use all fours to climb the rock. I kept an eye out for rattlesnakes and spiny ears of cactus. Although it was only April, I could feel the arid heat and worried about exhaustion. 

This mountain that I climbed had flat desert on one side and rugged cliffs of the Virgin River Gorge on the other. This area is a transition point between the Colorado Plateau and Mojave Desert. The Paiute Indians roamed this area hundreds of years ago, but with their day-to-day necessity for survival, I wondered if they ever bothered to climb a hill such as this. 

At the summit.

The trek to the summit took me 2 hours and 37 minutes. I traveled 2.9 miles and gained 2,491 feet of elevation. 

What I enjoyed the most from the summit was the view. It was spectacular in every direction! To the west unfolded the Mojave Desert, the towns of Littlefield and Beaver Dam, the jagged formation of Moapa Peak, and the forever stretching corridor of I-15. To the east, north and south stood the rugged mountains and cliffs of the Virgin River Gorge and Beaver Dam Mountains. From my perch I could see certain stretches of the Virgin River and I-15 inside the gorge, including the bridge at Cedar Pockets. I felt like a king on my royal throne. 

I took time to enjoy the view and eat a few snacks. It was interesting that on my hike up I encountered no other living soul, but upon reaching the summit I spotted a lone yellow finch and a swarm of gnats that liked my face. 

More mountains, looking south.

A monochromatic picture, looking east. If you look closely you can see a sliver of I-15 and the Virgin River.

Looking west toward Littlefield, Beaver Dam and Moapa Peak.

My plan for the trip down was to take another route. Whereas I came up on the southwest ridge, I hoped to descend on the northwest. Unless I got stuck on an unforeseen ledge, the new route would give me some different scenery. 

But as I prepared to leave the summit, I had one last surprise. 

A large bird with a wide span and white markings beneath his wings circled the sky above me. Then I saw another . . . and then another. I counted six. For ten minutes they glided on the wind, sometimes low and sometimes high. There was a different look to them, something peculiar. 

At first I thought they were California Condors. They were certainly larger than the average fowl, with a very long wing-span. And from what I could see, their faces appeared to be red. But as I studied them more I learned they were not California Condors at all, but turkey vultures. 

Yes, this was a bit disappointing, but still they were amazing birds. To watch them glide with the wind while on a mountain peak well over 2,000 feet above the nearest person was a feeling to be remembered. 

Turkey vultures with 2,000 feet beneath their wings.

Turkey vulture.

Finally the vultures moved on and so did I. The trip down was equally unique and beautiful, with its own crop of flowers and blossoms. The way down was rockier, with some of the edges being razor-sharp. 

All in all, a very satisfying hike. ♠
 

Interesting geology on the way down.

Cactus and gooseberryleaf globemallow.  Peak #10 in background.

Peak #10 

Miles from car (one way): 2.9 

Elevation gain: 2,491 feet 

Final elevation: 4,584 feet

 

Peak #10 as seen from Cedar Pockets exit.

Hiking the Entire Length of the Virgin River Gorge: Part 2

12 December 2023—Virgin River Gorge: Cedar Pockets to Littlefield, Arizona

We finally found a day that we all had free, and with no storm. After meeting at Hank's house we drove to McDonald's and ate breakfast, then into the gorge to Cedar Pockets. We parked at the trailhead and waited for the sun to rise.

A month had passed since we hiked the first half and temperatures had dropped since then⸺not considerably, but enough to be noticeable. We waited in the warm truck until we saw the first ray of light on the clifftop.

We weren't sure what to expect during this second half. Although it would be shorter mileage, we were told by someone that it was more difficult because the gorge in this section was narrower, thus creating deeper water.

Our first river-crossing came five minutes into the hike. It was a wide crossing, and as we stepped into the current the shock of ice-cold water jolted through our bodies. The water came to my knees. By the time I crossed my feet were numb. The silver-lining was that we didn't have to cross the river for another two miles.

First crossing of the river. Very frigid!

A look back at I-15, which we would parallel most of the way.

From this point we stayed on the Sullivan Canyon Trail, the only path of its sort we would see in the gorge. It took us along a horseshoe bend of the Virgin River and then up and over a hill where we had a good view of the freeway. After dropping into Sullivan Canyon it was just a 5-minute walk until we reunited with the river.

We were able to walk along the left bank for a while, but inevitably it was back into the water. It was just as frigid as the first time, only now it soaked up to my thighs. We still hadn't felt the sun and temperatures were only slightly above freezing.

Looking down-river from the mouth of Sullivan Canyon.

Second crossing of the day. (still cold)

This first section of the hike was miserable. We were in and out of the river several times and although everything from my thighs down were cold, it was my feet that were turning numb.There was little enjoyment of the scenery. I was in more of a survival mode, putting one foot in front of the other.

At least we weren't fighting tamarisk and willows like we had during the first half of the hike. There were exceptions, but for the most part thick vegetation was a thing of the past. Our challenge now was to find crossings where rapids were minimal and water wasn't too deep.

 

South side of bridge #1.

Taking a break on north side of bridge #1.  Finally in the sun!

Beneath this bridge we passed from the south side of the freeway to the north; although our foray to the north side would be short-lived because after a small horseshoe bend, it would return to the south side.—But while on the north side we took our first real break. We enjoyed our first touch of sunlight. I took some ibuprofen, which seemed to help with the pain.

This small break was a turning point for me. It now felt as if the misery had melted away and I was able to enjoy the beauty of the gorge. It even felt as if the temperature of the river went up a few degrees. The touch of the water no longer stung like it once did.

Looking back at bridge #1, from north side.

As an aside, I should interject some words on the majesty of I-15 through the Virgin River Gorge.

Until the project was completed in1973, there was absolutely no motorized traffic through the gorge. Instead, vehicles traveling between Las Vegas and Salt Lake would have to circumvent the rugged chasm by traveling on Highway 91 and over Utah Hill.

Construction of the project began in the early 1960's and lasted nine years. They say it was the most expensive rural freeway project to date. The undertaking included seven bridges and diverted the river twelve times.

A story is told about a 50-foot pile that workers thought they had planted into bedrock, only to have it sink into the ground, leaving no trace the next morning! In some places workers had to rappel 400 feet down a sheer ledge to plant charges of dynamite. One worker, Jimmie Hughes, died while on the project.

Nowadays thousands of drivers cruise at seventy miles an hour without a thought of what it took to build this road. There are two lanes of traffic in each direction. Even with that in mind, it is still a white-knuckle experience to venture through here. Walls are sheer on both sides and the route is anything but straight. Oftentimes when I drive through there will be a concrete guardrail with no shoulder on one side and a semi-truck with eighteen wheels barreling on the other!

Bridge #2, looking from south side.

Straight section with freeway just above us.

We continued around the bend and under the second bridge to the south side. For some distance the river ran relatively straight with the freeway only a stone's throw away on the right. (This is the only hike I've ever done where I could hear traffic the entire time!) The river bank consisted of a concrete / road base / hard sludge that ran from the freeway above to the river below. I don't know exactly what it was, but it created some tricky diagonal walking and it was sharp on the hands.

It was along this stretch that we passed by another gauging station. Like the gauging station we saw on the first half, this was a concrete weir that stretched from one side of the river to the other, creating a small dam behind it. Water spilled over the weir. On that day the river measured 17.11 feet deep and flowed at 158 cubit feet per second.

Gauging station, just a stones throw from the freeway.

Scarring on rock wall where dynamite was used to blast rock.

At mile five the river passed beneath the freeway, again to the north side. Along this stretch was the first section where cars on the freeway could actually see us. The banks of the river were wider now, and sandy. Fewer strands of willow and tamarisk grew, making the walk much easier.

It was in this section where we first noticed the warm springs. I dipped my hand into a rivulet of water that issued from the cliff. It was not hot, but luke-warm. There was a distinct scent of sulfur. As we walked we found other springs.

South side of bridge #3.

Grafitti on pier below bridge #3.

First warm spring.

The further into the gorge we got, the narrower it became. The walls moved in so close that it became necessary to build the freeway on top of the river. As we hiked this section there were giant piers that came down into the river and we could hear the rumbling of the traffic directly overhead. Near this point we found two more warm springs, one of them fairly large in size.

I don't know if this counts as a bridge, but nevertheless, the freeway is built above the river.

Freeway still elevated above the river.

Another of many warm springs.

The freeway runs directly over the river.

In an unexpected move, primarily to relocate to the warm sun, we stopped and ate lunch by the side of the pavement. We actually walked alongside the road for a few minutes. At this point there is a pullout alongside the freeway where thrill-seekers can park and walk to a rock climbing area. We opted to go on the opposite side of a low hill that separated us from traffic. It was here that we ate our lunch.

From this location we were nearly out of the gorge, although we still had a few more miles to our final destination. From our lunch spot we could walk to the rim of the hill and see “the narrows.” It didn't look too much worse than anything we had already done.

After lunch we descended the steep embankment from the freeway down to the water. Immediately we had to cross the river and this time it was deeper than at any other place this day, coming up to my belly button. At least by now the air and water had warmed considerably.

Before we knew it we were out of the gorge, although still down in a ravine cut by the river. Even at this point we found more warm springs, one of them with sand bags around it where someone tried creating a little pool.

This section of the river is referred to as "The Narrows."

Hank and Rob at the end of a sheep tunnel.

We stayed down at the river for another mile before we found a dirt road that took us up onto dry ground. We stayed on this road, which paralleled the freeway for over two miles until we arrived at the gas station in Littlefield, Arizona where Hank's wife would meet us. We were grateful to be done, and especially with a little daylight left in the sky.

I kept track of how many times we crossed the river that day: twenty-four. The total length was just over 10 miles and it took us roughly 9 hours. We didn't get as battered on this last half. There was no crawling under tamarisk and no bleeding hands. We were happy. It was a satisfying accomplishment that most people cannot say they've done.

Looking at our overall hike, which includes the first half, the total distance was 27 miles, which we covered in 22 hours. We split it into two days, a month apart, primarily because after the first day we were just too beat!

We hiked from the southern part of St. George, Utah (Bloomington) to the Eagles Landing Travel Plaza, just outside the city limits of Littlefield, Arizona. We walked through very remote country with no road access as well as several miles directly under a major freeway.

Although I doubt that I will ever repeat this feat in my lifetime, I am confident that I will explore much more of the gorge, as well as the Beaver Dam Mountains. ♠

 

(L to R) Rob, Hank and John.

Finally out of the gorge.  Looking back at I-15 and the Beaver Dam Mountains.

Virgin River Gorge hike, Part 1