Abajo Peak is a huge mountain in southeastern Utah, looming high above the high deserts and canyon country of this amazing part of the world (seriously, all of southern Utah should be one gigantic National Park). The summit is almost 11,400 feet, and the mountain has over 4,500 feet of prominence. In other words, you can see the range from many miles away. It is one of a handful of very large, very prominent mountains to dot the high deserts and plateaus of the greater Four Corners region. The Abajo Range is near the city of Monticello, but is visible from points as far south as the Navajo Nation in northern Arizona.

Its great size and prominence—and gentle slopes and lines—means that Abajo’s summit was sacrificed to modern technology: a good road goes to the very summit, on which sit many large towers. While there are some hiking options, they’ll all feed you onto the road for at least the final portion. I was one of a group of four—Scott Casterlin, Scott Peavy and Chris Gilsdorf—visiting the peaks near the Four Corners for this weekend. Originally, Abajo was not on our agenda, but I suspected we might have the time if our other plans go well, so I brought along a basic description of the peak and after about 30 seconds of arm-twisting, got the other three guys interested in it too. The road to the top at least gave us flexibility on our time up there; we were not necessarily locked into a half-day hike.

We has just come off of Pastora Peak in Arizona earlier this morning. In fact, the outline of the Abajo Range is visible from Pastora’s summit, probably 90 air-miles distant. We were back onto pavement by 8:30 a.m. and Monticello was about 100 miles of driving, so we went for it. We drove up highway US-191 into Utah through the cities of Bluff and Blanding, where we stopped to get a map of the Abajos and talk with the visitor center lady, who’d driven her ATV up there just a couple weeks ago. Then from Blanding we rolled into Monticello, and immediately went west toward the Abajo Range, all the while studying the cloud build-up, hoping it would stall enough to allow us safe passage up and back.

From Monticello we went west on Avenue 200 South out of town, hanging a left onto Forest Road 87, signed for Loyd Lake. The road is paved as it passes Loyd Lake, then becomes fine dirt and gravel as it meanders toward the range. We passed through pine forests and sections of gigantic aspen, eventually getting high enough so that the road was hugging the steep slopes, which were mostly open, with low scrub and grass. After rounding a bend, we could see the upper summit ridge, and after another couple miles, the summit itself. We parked just south of the peak, in a clearing at the last saddle below the top. From here the hike would be short: maybe a half-mile one way, 150 feet of gain. But the clouds were building fast and there were some lightning bolts off in the distance, so we didn’t delay one bit.

The hike was more of a run: we followed some old tracks up the south slope. Going from 6,000 feet to 11,200 feet, then trying to run, winded me pretty fast, making me light-headed enough I thought I may faint. After catching my breath I “jog-hiked” to the top. Chris was already there, the other Scotts immediately behind me. We took a few photos, looked at the towers, and mostly, looked at all the dark clouds. I didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. After maybe 2 minutes, we all ran down the slope back to the vehicle. We had considered parking earlier for a couple miles’ hike, but the weather pretty much cancelled those plans. We were happy to do it as we did, considering the circumstances.

The drive back into Monticello went well, and we got a flat as we neared Loyd Lake. We were able to get the car into a tire shop where they patched it, while we ate tacos at a nearby fast-food stop. The rain was pretty steady while we were in town, but our total delay was maybe 40 minutes, not too bad. We exited Monticello by heading east on US-491 (old US-666) into Colorado, then into New Mexico and then Arizona for a late-day visit to Roof Butte, in the Chuska Mountains of northeastern Arizona.

So, we didn’t so much climb Abajo as drive up, but we were all happy to get this peak in. It’s remote enough so that none of us get up here often, so we took advantage of the opportunity as it arose. The storm clouds gave us some excitement, for sure. Perhaps one day I’ll do the short hike from the north, but there’s no urgency. What views we had were stunning.

The remainder of our trip went well. At Roof Butte, Peavy and Gilsdorf made the hike to the top while Casterlin and I rested back at the car, both of us already having done this peak at other times. We had enough daylight after Roof Butte to drive up the sketchy dirt roads from Sanostee (NM) to the base of Beautiful Mountain in New Mexico, where the tale continues.