I don’t know what beckoned me to this odd ridge-run. Standing at its midpoint last winter atop the Benson and Hedges Couloir I couldn’t help but wonder what lay north and south. But winter does a good job at smoothing out the wickedly rough terrain that is such a bog in the summer. The sliver was under my nail and after a long Saturday morning tending a garage sale I was anxious to loose myself in the woods- far from other humanoids.
Unfortunately the Donut Falls trailhead up Cardiff Fork (er South Fork) was packed (PACKED) with mid aged humans and their young. I luckily dodged the worst of them and found a parking spot with a weak dirt track leading into the woods. I caught it east and headed straight uphill, aiming for the northern terminus of the ridge. I bushwacked… and climbed what could have been an old log slide, then scrambled crumbling rock, and then tarzan’ed odd roots, finally catching the crest 30 minutes later.
Heading south, the next section was a continual bushwack. I avoided the deepest sections, gaining random elevation; travel was far more tedious than I expected. After about a mile of moderate ‘ridging’ I peaked over a short summit and saw the treachery begin. The ridge went from vegetated and soiled, to a craggy mess of limestone cliffs and slabs stretching around the corner and out of sight. Jumping in, I followed the ridge the best I could, but continually found myself traversing low across the loose (read scary), limestone slabs on the east side. I would climb up, backtrack, climb back, and then finally back down for good. The climbing was easy, but the looseness (and being alone) upped the ante. Finally finding a survivable path through the initial difficulty I was happy to be on somewhat easier ground gaining elevation and distance.
Then, I hit the major obstacle on the ridge- a monster cliff halting my progress. I tried several different routes, each ending in a large drop. I finally decided to throw the towel in and I took some time to refuel. With food-lifted spirits, I resumed my quest to turn the obstacle and found a loose ramp leading downward and through the worst of it. With some serious elevation lost, I turned back uphill and caught the ridge spine once again. Here the scrambling became stunning- huge exposure on the west, occasional wildflower patches, and the clinging remains of old limber pines. The scrambling continued to be borderline technical- plenty of routefinding, scary slack traverses, dead ends, and the wonder of what potential lay around every corner. I passed above Benson and Hedges, scrambled past piles of goat hair, and soloed an incredible 5.5 limestone slab. The view into the Hallway was spectacular. A lone curious goat watched from the head of Banana Days.
Finally rock turned to dirt and I passed an old Forest Service (boundary?) post and I knew I was back on more solid ground. Reaching the head of Days Fork I enjoyed the remains of the Reed and Benson mining camp and promenaded to the summit of Flagstaff. With the elevation behind me, I caught the train down the Holy Toledo Chute and enjoyed a quick run down the Cardiff Fork road back to the cluster that is Donut Falls (paramedics and fire crews were evacuating someone who fell from the Falls as I arrived… typical). I was happy to turn north and put this adventure behind me. It was a rugged scramble through some of the more secluded sections of the central Wasatch. I doubt I was the first to do it, but I doubt many have enjoyed its subtleties. If I ever decide to go back, I think it will be with a solid snowpack….
