OUT THERE!: ALTITUDE! MOUNT OGDEN HIKE 5100' TO 9572' IN 6 MILES.

Base of Beus Canyon, the beginning of the hike.

"I'm going to dance down the top of this ridge!" I yelled to my wife. I did a few fancy steps, threw my arms in the air and ended with a worn-out grandgete. My wife then followed and danced her way down a section of the Mount Ogden saddle. We both had dreams of dancing across the mountains and this effort would fulfill that dream. The dance moves were part of our veneration to the mountain. We reached our goal to make it to the peak and had to let the exhilaration we felt fly, if only for a moment, off the tops of those ridges.

Beus Creek looks like it comes out of this boulder.

Our hike began at the trail head near 47th Street in the South Ogden foothills, just south, and a little above the Dee Event Center. The trail is called Beus Trail but only follows the bottom of Beus canyon and its creek for a little over a mile. About a half mile into the hike a footbridge crossed Beus Creek and the trail splits. If you take the trail to the left you will come out along the face of the foothills on what is the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. To get to the summit of Mount Ogden via Beus Trail, you cross the bridge and stay in the canyon bottom with the creek.

The canyon bottom is loaded with ferns. In the early fall they are changing from lush green to straw yellow; dense and thick, they often cover the small creek and hide it from view. The only sign that it is still there is the pleasant sound of trickles and small plunge pools. Small creeks make great hiking companions and we enjoyed Beus Creek's singing as we made our way to the last crossing before heading south toward Burch Creek Canyon.

As we came up the gradual incline out of Beus Canyon our eyes were hit with a view of Burch Creek Canyon. The north facing slopes mottled with dark, rich stands of fir trees. Burch Creek Canyon looked rugged and deep on the north face. We would follow the trail on the south facing slope which was covered with scrub oak and maples. The trail had now turned to the east and would continue this direction gradually taking us near the top of Burch Creek Canyon and what looked to be a barren mountain top.

Scrub Oak and Maple

Scattered among the green oak and maple were their friends and family already preparing for a winters nap. Red and orange and yellow leaves lighted by afternoon sun added a frivolous feeling of one last party before snow and cold turned things to black and white. Hiking in the midst of such color with the warmth of the sun removed the daily stress from my soul and I began to live in this exact moment and transcend my worldly cares.

As we approached the top of Burch Creek canyon, the trees and brush gave way to mostly rocky terrain. Some small sagebrush and tufts of grass grow where they have gained a hold, but dirt and rock now called out with each footstep. I don't know my rock well, but I think I recognized granite, quartz, and maybe feldspar. Some of the rocks had twinkling's of iron pyrite that made me wonder if we were fools for hiking to the summit and back in one day. Through the summer we had talked to others about the hike trying to get details about its difficulty. Some people told us it was easier to hike to the top and then take the Snowbasin Ski Resort tram back down the opposite side. We decide that we were in shape enough to hike to the top and then come back down the same way, a twelve mile adventure. About half way to the summit, I wondered if we would make it back before dark or if we would have to turn around taking nothing for our effort but a pocket of fool's gold.

The lower trail followed the side of Burch Creek Canyon.

At the top of Burch Creek, the trail switches back toward the west. I could tell that a nice view of Ogden was over the next hill so I paused and took my wife's hand so we could experience the view together. We looked out over the valley and began to point out the different landmarks. The Promontory range in the western horizon stretched from north to south ending at the shores of Great Salt Lake. Fremont Island, Antelope Island, Gunnison Island, appeared as dusty patches of land floating in the hazy expanse of an inland sea.

Getting close to the top of Burch Creek Canyon.

Looking back toward Ogden

Continuing forward and upward, we were now on the Mount Ogden Saddle. The ridge that would take us to the peak. The radio towers at the peak were now in view. This gave our hearts a boost of adrenalin and our minds a shot of faith. With the goal in sight, we knew we would make it. Our only concern was getting back down before dark.

We sat down and ate our lunch and drank water. We rested for half an hour and then started the last mile to the top.

We met two couples coming back down and exchanged pleasantries. They must have started their hike at dawn. They thought we were still about an hour away from the summit.

Approaching Mount Ogden Saddle

I loved the view from the saddle. We could look to the north and see Ben Lomond Peak, look to the west and see the Promontory Range and other western ranges, and look to the southwest and see the Oquirrh Range. To the south we could see the valley floor and towns strung out in the narrow band of land between the mountains and the waters of Great Salt Lake. We were almost too high and far away to pick out landmarks looking south but we knew we were seeing such cities as Layton, Kaysville, Farmington, Bountiful, and North Salt Lake.

Looking back toward Layton and Great Salt Lake.

Viewing north along all the mountain tops gave us a new perspective on the ruggedness of the Wasatch Front. We marveled at how quickly the mountains shoot skyward from the valley floor. I have heard people talk about how barren and colorless they seem to be. But on this hike we realized that they have their own beauty. They may not be as green and lush as mountains found in surrounding states or mountains in other parts of the country, but the Wasatch Front has a simple beauty, like a women who puts on just the right amount of make-up and dresses with simple elegance, the Wasatch Range is dressed and made up just enough to be alluring. The mountain changes with the seasons and a careful eye will certainly see the white and gray coolness of winter, the fresh greenness of spring, the warm, dry rock of summer, and the flame-orange of fall. Each season with its invitation to see glamour, to look deep into her eyes as she reveals her secrets.

Gun display. Ben Lomond Peak in background.

Our destination, Mount Ogden in background.

The last mile or so of the trail follows just below the west facing slopes. Eventually, you turn east and hit the ridge that the summit sits on. We were a little disappointed to find at this point a rocky service road coming up from the Snowbasin side of the mountain. I knew there was some type of building at the summit, as well as the radio towers, but some type of primitive yearning in me wanted the place to be wilderness. Looking down over the ski runs and buildings of Snowbasin reminded me that we were not that far from civilization and that in the winter, the back side of Mount Ogden is a winter recreationist's haven. In about three months deep snows will bury the summit and the east slopes will be full of parka clad figures riding and sliding up and down her terrain.

We scrambled up the broken rock and made it to the building, the towers, and a helicopter landing pad. We stood on the pad and looked east viewing the Morgan Valley and its surrounding mountain ranges, then looked back to the west and viewed the Ogden Area and as far as we could see to mountains in Nevada.

Double barrel! Nearing Mount Ogden.

There were a couple of plaques and geologic survey markers at the summit. The plaques looked to be placed there by students and faculty from Weber State University in Ogden with history of the hike. Also present at the summit is the disturbing signs of civilization--names scratched into the face of the plaques and marks made with black spray paint on the rocks.

Service road from Snowbasin ski resort side of Mount Ogden Peak.

At the summit. Morgan Valley in background.

After spending a little time for pictures from the summit, a hug, and a kiss, we decided we needed to get off the mountain before dark. We glanced one last time out over the valley, letting the wind blow through our hair. I closed my eyes for just a minute and imagined I was a hawk soaring above the ridge, dipping, spinning and quickly rising up and over each canyon. I rode the wind out of Burch Creek and into Beus Creek, then over to Strong Canyon and up Waterfall Canyon, then up into Malan's Basin and down into Taylor's Canyon. I opened my eyes and the dream was over. I had to hike out the same way I hiked in. I guess, it was the giddiness I felt from making it to the top that made me take off running along the ridge. Since I didn't have the wings to carry out the hawk dream, I did the only thing I could do--run! I looked back at my wife and that is when I realized I also had a dream to dance across the mountains. It was a dream she has had too. That's when I yelled back to her. "I'm going to dance down the top of this ridge!" And we did!