Little Creek Peak (#15)

Little Creek Peak as seen from Bear Valley.

Little Creek Peak view from near our starting point on the south side.

Little Creek Peak from further south on an unnamed peak. Sandy Peak behind it.

Little Creek Peak from an unnamed peak to the west.

We spent the night sleeping in the back of the truck in our own niche of a little valley, ten miles from pavement at the dead-end of a dirt road. There was no one else here, just the rustling of aspen leaves and the menacing threat of storm clouds. Luckily for us, everything was still dry. 

After a breakfast of scrambled eggs and a protein shake we set out on a trail that headed north. At times the path was distinct, but at other times it disappeared and we had to forge our own way. The walk wasn't too difficult because portions of the forest had been wiped clean in a fire several years ago and now there were just young saplings to contend with. There were also patches of beautiful flowers and berry bushes, whose purple grape-like fruit tasted bitter sweet. 

Little Creek Peak has been on my radar for years now. From Bear Valley it rises majestically, but is caged in by private property and steep, thickly vegetated slopes. I decided to attack it from the south side which appeared more benign, but required a long drive on a two-rut road. 

For some reason I assumed the path from our campsite was a four-wheeling road, which would have been easy to follow, but it wasn't. Instead it was a narrow trail that randomly took shape, then disappeared several times. With the pyramid-like face of Little Creek Peak getting closer, we trudged over hills, but mostly stayed near the ridge Although we saw no big game, this area appeared to be prime habitat for deer and elk. 

Jordan doing what he's always done . . .

. . . catching horny toads and other little reptiles!

The first two and a half miles weren't too bad, especially when we were on the trail. Once we arrived at the base, the climb would begin in earnest. Over the next mile we gained 1,100 feet in elevation. We began on the south face, the first part clear of trees. The second part we had to push our way through sapling aspens. 

Then we arrived at the southeast ridge which had fewer trees but was rockier. There were a couple outcrops where we had to perform simple class 3 maneuvers to cross. 

At the base of Little Creek Peak.

Further up on the ridge looking toward the summit.

As we ascended we quickly gained an elevated view. Sandy Peak was now prominently visible to the north. I had a fun experience climbing that last year. We could also see that monsoonal storm clouds were now in action. Several miles to the east hovered a slow-moving cloudburst. 

When we finally made it to the summit there was a sense of relief, but also a twinge of disappointment. First, our view to the west was partially blocked by trees. We could have walked out to a point that gave us a better view, but it was further than we wanted to walk at the moment. And second, a thick colony of gnats already occupied the summit! And they were awful! There was no enjoying the view from the summit for us. We quickly moved down to a shelf on the south side, not too far away. 

It felt good to be to the top. It's one of those peaks that doesn't get climbed too often. From our perch we had a view of Sandy Peak and the Dutton's. To the south were many mountain hills, most of them indiscernible unless you knew what you were looking at. I could see Horse Valley Peak, Brian Head Peak and Hancock Peak, the latter being on the skyline and probably the most prominent. 

Distant cloudburst.  If you look closely, there are gnats everywhere in this picture!

U.S. Geological Survey marker.

Sandy Peak from (near) the summit of Little Creek Peak.

It was near the summit where we heard our first thunder and felt drops of rain. Jordan and I had a traumatic experience with lightning last summer and had no desire to do that again. We quickly made our way down the summit, this time choosing to stay on the south face. 

Drops began to fall and I only brought one poncho. As the rain picked up we chose to take shelter beneath the wide bough of a pine tree. I got out my poncho and we spread it over the two of us. 

Hiding from the rain.

After fifteen minutes the shower turned off and we again picked our way down the slope, this time running the gauntlet through wet aspen leaves. From the summit we could see where we had lost the trail on the way up, so now that we were on our way down, we aimed toward the trail. 

Two hours after leaving the summit, we arrived back at the truck. This was a relief because we felt that a more powerful storm was imminent. We removed our packs and enjoyed a snack before driving away.

Storm clouds continue to grow and move.

Little Creek Peak
 

Miles from truck (one way): 3.0
 

Elevation gain (net): 1,194 feet
 

Elevation gain (gross): 1,658 feet
 

Final elevation: 10,127 feet



The real adventure, however, came as we began to drive away. The storm hit in earnest and water poured from the sky in droves. The two-rut road became a muddy mess and I did all I could to keep us going forward. 

Then the hail came. It pinged on the the hood, windshield and everywhere around. The marble-sized balls of ice temporarily turned the ground white. I was worried about putting dents in the truck.

Looking behind us where just fifteen minutes earlier we had been hiking, was one nebulous shroud. And then we saw the lightning, with thunder immediately following. The bolt was exactly where we had been! I was so glad we got out when we did. 

Eventually the hail stopped, and so did the rain. Somehow I was able to make it off the dirt road without having to put it into four-wheel drive. It was nice to at last be on pavement and driving home. ♠

 

Soggy roads from hailstorm.

What's left of the hail.

Dodger Stadium

Only two Major League ballparks⸺Fenway Park and Wrigley Field⸺are older than Dodger Stadium. To be sure, both of these ballparks have Dodger Stadium beat by nearly fifty years, but it is still the oldest park west of the Mississippi. It is the largest baseball stadium in the world by seat capacity. Not too shabby. 

When the Dodgers came from Brooklyn in 1958, they spent their first four seasons in the Los Angeles Coliseum while their new stadium was being built. During the construction phase several residents were pressured to relocate. Tops of ridges were trimmed down, ravines filled, millions of cubic yards of dirt moved, and an entire elementary school was simply buried rather than demolished. (It currently sits beneath the pavement of the parking lot on the third base side.) The first season of Dodger Stadium saw a MLB attendance record of 2,755,184 fans. 

As a teenager I was not a Dodger fan. But that was only because they weren't the Braves. I did, however, have respect for them. They always seemed to be good. Back then their superstars were Pedro Guerrero, Steve Sax, Orel Hershiser and Fernando Valenzuela. And, of course, who could forget manager, Tommy Lasorda? 

Decades have passed and my heart has softened. For years now I have wanted to watch a game at Dodger Stadium and today was my lucky day. We had seats directly behind home plate . . . and in the nose-bleed section! Yes, it was a long walk to the upper deck, but we had a wonderful view of the whole field and San Gabriel Mountains. 

Being an hour early we decided to get our food while the crowds were still filing in. For $7.99 I ordered the famous Dodger Dog. There was nothing special about it except that it was about ten inches long. It wasn't even thicker than normal. I decorated mine with the standard ketchup, mustard, relish and onions. The banger came when we tallied the total of food with drinks for five people: a whopping $88!!! —I've never spent near that much on concessions. 

The Dodger Dog.

Many decks of Dodger Stadium.

I don't believe the game was sold out, but it was close. The Dodgers are always a favorite and it helps that they seem to be perennially good. This was also the “Freeway Series” against cross-town rivals Los Angeles Angels. 

There was an excitement in the air. Not only could I feel it, but I believe most of the 50,000 people there could also. For me it was the opportunity to see someone who was becoming a legend. It was like going to the ballpark and watching Willie Mays or Micky Mantle. Today we would be able to see in-person, Shohei Ohtani. 

I will admit that over the last three decades, I have not followed baseball like I used to. But Shohei Ohtani might help change that. He started his career in Japan and later made his way to the United States and the Major Leagues. He both bats and pitches, and is very good at both—a rarity in professional baseball. Comparisons have been made between him and Babe Ruth. This evening at the game there were thousands of fans with Dodger jerseys and “Ohtani 17” on the back. He was by far the most popular player in the stadium. 

Shohei Ohtani on deck.

One of many who wore a Shohei Ohtani jersey.

Angels dugout.

As the game progressed, not only was I mindful of current players, but also of the legends who once played in this stadium. As I strolled the walkway between levels I saw murals on the walls of Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale. 

I remember my dad talking about Sandy Koufax when I was younger. Kofax played when the Dodgers moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles. Even though he only competed twelve years in the Major Leagues, he is still considered one of the greatest pitchers of all time. He won the Cy Young Award three times and the National League Most Valuable Player once. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame on his first year of eligibility. 

Mural of Don Drysdale.

Beyond the outer doors of the upper deck gift shop is a beautiful view of the Los Angeles skyline. As the crow flies the stadium is just over a mile from downtown. (As I stepped into the plaza I didn't realize I had technically exited the stadium and it was a minor hassle to get back in.) 

Other than the view, the other thing that drew me to this plaza were the memorials for retired Dodger numbers. Each number bore a summery of that person's career. As far as I could tell, they all played in Los Angeles, and many also in Brooklyn. They included Gil Hodges, Duke Snider, Pee Wee Reese, and #42, Jackie Robinson. 

Memorial for Gil Hodges in the Retired Numbers Plaza.

View of Los Angeles from the Retired Numbers Plaza.  Memorial for Jackie Robinson partially visible.

A look from right field.

The evening was perfect, not a cloud in sight. After an hour the sun went down and lights came on. The crowd was enthusiastic, especially every time Ohtani came to bat. For the night he went 1 for 4, with a walk and a solid home run. In the end, the Dodgers won convincingly, 7-2. 

On our way out we were able to exit through the Retired Numbers Plaza. The view over Los Angeles was spectacular, now with all the skyscrapers lit up. 

The only negative of the night was that pesky L.A. traffic. It took us an hour to get out of the parking lot, and at least half of that we were at a complete stand-still! ♠

 

From Dodger Stadium looking toward Santa Monica.

 

Ogden to Mantua via Ben Lomand and Willard Peaks (#'s 13 & 14)

Several months ago I conjured up the idea of hiking from Ogden to Mantua, up and over the mountain while bagging two peaks. But now, as the time drew closer, I became a little nervous. I knew it would be a long hike, but how long? Was I giving myself enough time, or would I be finishing in the dark? And to add to all that, temperatures in the valley would reach between 100 – 105° F that day. 

To clarify, I didn't start in Ogden, but a few miles up North Ogden Canyon at the Ben Lomand Trailhead. Jenelle was kind enough to drop me off at 7:00 in the morning. 

The hike began well. It was a cool 71°, and although the sun was barely over the horizon, the mountain still kept me in the shade. During my first minute on the trail I spotted three does hiding behind the scrub oak. 

Doe hiding behind the scrub oak.

In this first section I gained a lot of elevation, although it wasn't too noticeable because the trail was gradual, zigzagging in a giant corkscrew. In the first hour I hiked 2.4 miles and gained 1,200 feet. 

I wasn't sure how much water to bring. Would there be streams to refill my water bottles? Would the heat cause me to drink more than normal? I brought four liters of water, plus twenty ounces of Gatorade. 

Looking back at the North Ogden Canyon Road.

It was a beautiful hike up. Being mid-July, there were wildflowers everywhere, including fleabane and flax flowers. 

As I got higher I caught glimpses of communities and landmarks on the east side of the mountain such as Eden, Huntsville and Pineview Reservoir. I had never seen that corner of the state before. 

Looking southeast toward Eden, Huntsville and Pineview Reservoir.

Trail on eastern slope of the mountain.

Wild blue flax.

At roughly the 5-mile mark the trail shifted to the west side. Now there were views of Ogden, the Great Salt Lake and most of Davis County. Here I could hear commuter jets overhead approaching the Salt Lake Airport, as well as out-of-sight military jets flying from Hill Air Force Base. 

At this point I caught my first glimpse of Ben Lomand Peak. It was impressive from this angle. It was named by Scottish pioneers due to the resemblance to Ben Lomand Mountain in their native Scotland.—As an interesting side note, in 1914 William Wadsworth Hodkinson sketched a picture a Ben Lomand Peak onto a napkin and later this doodle would become the basis for the Paramount Pictures logo. 

Even though it would be over 100° down in the valley, up here on the mountain there were still patches of snow. As I approached these higher elevations, the trail became more braided, with forks splitting off into unknown places. A couple of times I strayed off the main trail, but always found my way back. 

First glimpse of Ben Lomand Peak.

Looking back at other mountains east of Ogden.

Reading the reviews for this trail, the one negative thing that many reported were the abundance of motorbikes. I was surprised because, up to this point, I hadn't seen or heard a single rider. I only passed a handful of people and most of them were trail runners. 

The hike so far wasn't too hard. But as I approached the final pitch to the summit the slope became much steeper and my thighs began to burn. Melting water drizzled downhill. Once again the trail became a series of zigzags. 

Approaching Ben Lomand Peak.

Ben Lomand on left and Willard Peak on right.

The top of Ben Lomand Peak created quite a sight. At 9,686 feet, all of the aforementioned sites I could still see, but from a better vantage point. To the northwest I could see most of Willard Bay, a freshwater arm of the Great Salt Lake. To the north I could see my next destination, the beige granite rock of Willard Peak. 

Ironically, after not seeing a rider all day, a motorcyclist clad in all his protective gear came chugging along a trail from the north and parked his bike just below the peak and walked up. He had come from the Mantua side and drove up a trail in Perry Canyon. We talked for a bit and I learned why I hadn't seen any bikes coming up: because they weren't allowed on that side for another week (July 16). 

View from summit of Ben Lomand looking southeast.  Pineview Reservoir in background.

Willard Bay as seen from the summit of Ben Lomand.

Willard Peak seen from Ben Lomand.

Not having much time to waste I now descended the north side of the peak and walked the two-mile saddle toward Willard Peak. There was some elevation loss here, about 448 feet. Once again the trail was dotted with wildflowers, as well as wind-swept pine trees. 

Willard Peak, named after Mormon Apostle Willard Richards, is much rockier than Ben Lomand. If someone were to climb its iconic southeast side, they would find both class 3 and class 4 sections. The trail circumvents the peak and takes you to the west side. I didn't see any trail going to the top, so I created my own. This was another grueling stress on my thighs. On a couple sections I had to climb the rocks to get myself up. I even saw a fat marmot waddling inside a cave. 

Although Willard Peak (elevation 9,751 feet) is higher than Ben Lomand (and the highest in Weber County), the view, in my opinion, is not as good. The first reason is because the peak is broad and there is no one place where you can see well both the north and south sides. Second, there is a bulk of mountain that blocks the north side of the valley, including Perry and Brigham City. For the best views one has to go to Inspiration Point. 

But there is a good view into Willard Basin and the mountains on the east side. One mountain, James Peak, is somewhat prominent. I could also see a pond below me. 

There was no one else up here. I hadn't seen a soul since the motorcyclist on Ben Lomand. Willard Basin, which I thought would be buzzing with adventurists, was silent. 

From the summit of Willard Peak looking back at Ben Lomand.

Looking east from Willard Peak.

Survey marker on Willard Peak.

Willard Bay.  Promontory Mountains in distance.

Willard Basin as seen from Willard Peak.

I picked my way down the peak and back onto the path. Here the trail system was even more confusing, many of them crisscrossing the basin. I just had to pick one and go for it. 

Willard Basin was beautiful and I had it all to myself. A lake sat at the bottom of a slope. Melted snow created rivulets of water. I hoped to see a moose or mountain goats, but saw neither. 

Further down in the basin I met a rocky dirt road. This would be the road I would follow to Mantua. Considering the fallen trees on the road and the fact that the entire basin was dead to human existence, I assumed that further up the road was closed off. 

The road in the basin gained elevation until it climbed to a pass between the basin and everything else on the east side. There my notions were confirmed—a large metal gate blocked the road with a sign stating it was closed and would reopen on July 16. 

Descending into Willard Basin.

Unnamed (as far as I know) Lake in Willard Basin.

Dirt road heading out of Willard Basin.

This is why I had the basin all to myself!

From here it was just a long and tedious 10-mile walk into Mantua. I still had to descend 3,586 feet, but it would be on a twisty mountain road. Although it wasn't burning hot yet, I tried to walk on the shaded side of the road (if there was one) to keep from heating up. 

The road was still pretty rocky and high-clearance with a four-wheel drive would be necessary to drive on it in some parts. I passed two vehicles who were out on scenic drives. They both stopped and offered a ride, but I declined. 

The last four miles were probably the worst of all. The temperature was going up and the walk became even more tedious. But at last I made it to my in-law's house, which is just a half mile from the reservoir. I was very happy to be done with this hike! ♠

Black Mountain.

Perry Reservoir. Full of gnats and no moose.

The long walk home.

Ben Lomand Peak  

Miles from car (one way): 7.5  

Elevation gain: 4,020 feet  

Final elevation: 9,686 feet
 

Willard Peak  

Miles from car (one way): 9.5  

Miles from Ben Lomand: 2  

New elevation gained (after dropping some): 513 feet  

Final elevation: 9,751 feet
 

Total hike  

Miles: 22.1  

Aggregate elevation gain: 4,747 feet  

Time: 11 hours 49 minutes

 

Finally in Mantua!