Filling In The Missing Piece

I have always been enamored with the block of mountains between Lone Peak and Little Cottonwood Canyon. Known as Thunder Bowl, the beautiful cirque is flanked by South Thunder Mountain and North Thunder Mountain. No direct approach exists without substantial bush-whacking and scrambling. I've been foiled getting back there a few times before because of bad conditions or insufficient time. Saturday morning looked to be the right weather and the right amount of time to make a bid for it. Lower Bells Canyon Reservoir was the first landmark.

A rare sight at Lower Bells Reservoir: no crowds.

North Thunder Mountain quickly came into view as the high point on the horizon, about 6000' vertical feet away after passing Bells Waterfall.



North Thunder Mountain is the high point, right of center.



The first of several waterfalls for the day. I love them. And I hate them.

  

The upper lake was reached right at dawn, a beautiful sight indeed especially with the rising brook trout.



Upper Bells Reservoir, a perfect place to spend the sunrise.

Passing through the hanging valley, one departs the formal trail and begins a lot of scrambling, dashing, jumping, and running over scree and boulder fields.



Thank goodness for cairns to navigate the granite fields.

South Thunder Mountain can also be referred to as Mount Doom (without The Eye of Sauron). A remote, big, wild place where the mountain goats thrive. It was nice having them for company up there. They are so much more solid on the slabs than I am. 



Can you see my mountain goat friends yonder?



The view from South Thunder Mountain was so amazing, starting with the east face of Lone Peak.



Lone Peak looks completely different from every aspect, especially the rarely-seen east face. Upper Upper Bells Lake also shown.



I then began to work my way "around the horn" of Thunder Bowl towards North Thunder Mountain. The ridge is a bit spiney in spots, so patience was necessary to ensure good footing and good route-finding throughout the scramble.



Little Cottonwood's complete set amidst the fire-induced haze of the day from nearest to farthest: Pfeiferhorn, White Baldy, Red Stack, AF Twin Peaks, Hidden, Baldy, even Devils Castle way out there.



And looking westward into Thunder Bowl down towards Bells Canyon and the valley below from whence I came was equally inspiring. It was even better than I had imagined it would be for all these years.

 

"Man, I wish I had my skis right now with 8 feet of base to bomb down this cirque." Twin was peaking around the right hand corner.



The views into Hulk Hogum Fork were equally vast and amazing. I think I came across the Hyperdermic Needle line at some point on my journey along the ridge, but wasn't sure. A return trip in the winter is necessary.

 

Lower Hogum Fork, and great views up in to the Town of Alta

I finally reached North Thunder Mountain and my time still looked good. Here was a crucial decision point to make: descend back into Thunder Bowl, merge with Bells Canyon Trail, and make the trip an "out and back", or descend to my right into the vaunted Coal Pit Gulch which has been a place I have heard so much about as a skier, have never explored, but have always wanted to. It is a long, direct line that ultimately ends up at Little Cottonwood Canyon road.


A long scramble in the summer...



...would make for a bomber run in the winter (Photo courtesy of Zack Clanton).

  Did I mention how  badly I wished I had my skis with me at this point? Winter travel is so much softer on the joints, so much quicker if you're time-constrained, all in air that is so much crisper to the lungs.

As I descended down into Coal Pit, I quickly learned why Wasatch Tours calls this area a "frequent flyer" for avalanches. The consistent 45-degree headwall would be a blast but offers no islands of safety - whatever snow movement that starts up high will very likely end up near the road, and often does. For sure, this line could only be skied on the safest of days, as Johnny Lingo always preaches to me when I ask him to go do Coal Pit with me. Just this last Spring, a couple of guys triggered a big slide here and luckily hiked down alive. (I looked for his lost ski among the rocks, but to no avail). 

The scree ended half-way down the gulch and gave way to pines, scrub oak, and wild berry plants. Soon the canyon walls were encroaching and narrowing, as the vegetation grew thicker. Not long after that, I was forced to hike directly in the stream bed, which provided the best semblance to a trail as I would find in this rugged drainage.

So much for avoding the bush whack down here - wishful thinking for sure.

My pace slowed way down through the bottom half of the Gulch as I navigated debris, slippery rocks, a stream bed, and my sworn enemy, stinging neddle.

But that was nothing compared to what was coming. Rounding a bend in the canyon, the stream literally tumbled out of view on the horizon. As I approached the edge, my fears were confirmed and a series of three waterfalls were directly before me. There was no way around these falls, the canyon walls had choked in. There was a way back up to North Thunder Mountain but I was far too exhaused and committed to this drainage at this point to hike back up and come down through Bells Canyon. I palpitated, I paced, I prayed, I pondered, in that order. And then I determined that down climbing would be the only way to proceed. Incredibly careful. Error-free. High-consequence. Down climbing. The first waterfall was actually not as bad as expected. The second waterfall was 30' with a ledge in between. A prior climber or skier had secured a climbing rope here. I tried to use it, slipped on the rope to the first ledge, and burnt my hands pretty bad on the friction. Whincing in pain, I then decided to fully abandon the rope idea at this point.

No, those red streaks are not from a marker fight with my daughter.

So I took plenty of time to navigate the remaining waterfalls by careful down climbing. The holds were each chosen before the climbing route was committed to. I took my time. I knew I was late returning to my family. But I knew I was alone. Errors in here would prove disastrous. There was no safety net, of any form or format, in here. So I just took my sweet time to get through this section. Better to be late (or later) on my return time than to be sorry...



The last of the three waterfalls in Coal Pit Gulch.

 Finishing that segment and seeing the Little Cottonwood Canyon trail provided relief indescribable.
 



The trail home with no more bush whacking... a sight for sore eyes.

 Knowing how late I was, I then forced myself to run the 3 miles down the trail and road back to my car at Bells Canyon Trailhead. My wife was waiting there, understandably concerned since I was very late and very out-of-touch with her the last half of the trip. Friends were already being assembled to come see what was wrong, what had happened, where I was, why I hadn't made any contact.

So, needless to say, it was part frustration and part relief for everyone involved when I returned to my car.

But the loop I contrived was complete. I have done The Beat Out from White Pine Trailhead to Bells Canyon Trailhead. But this loop- I think I will call it The Coal Pit Beat Out - was more taxing emotionally and physically. These crucial missing pieces to my collective experience in the Central Wasatch- replete with gorgeous peaks, lakes, waterfalls, bowls, mountain goats, and granite galore- were filled in after 10 years of looking at Thunder Bowl from the valley and wondering what it was really like. Now I know for myself.

Here are some invaluable lessons learned if I ever attempt such a loop again: take a friend when you're doing loops, winter travel usually beats summer travel, waterfalls are best viewed not down-climbed, bring a GPS unit or get a better battery in my phone, only use a rope if you have a harness, and most importantly try to add a few hours to your return time with your wife so you can pleasantly surprise her. :)