We had planned a hike up West Mountain Peak over a two-day stay in St. George as part of a week-long circuit of the Grand Canyon via Northern Arizona, Utah and Nevada. After a few days camping on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, then a night in Kanab, we enjoyed a day of scenic driving, working our way up over the mountains and visiting Cedar Breaks National Monument and a drive up of Brian Head Peak. Coming down from Brian Head (the town) into Parowan, I nearly fried my truck’s brakes on the steep downhill stretch of highway. I was able to stop in a pullout, but the smell (and smoke) of the fried brakes scared us plenty; we decided to sit for an hour, let them cool, then see what would happen. I managed to let the truck engine-brake itself down the highway, using 4-wheel drive, then once in Parowan, tested them on flat ground. They seemed okay. We drove on into St. George, testing them a couple more times by exiting into a Rest Area and testing them on the long downhills of the interstate. Again, they seemed fine. Even so, I wanted them to be checked out, but since it was a Sunday in St. George, nothing was open. We found our hotel in town, gorged on the buffet at Chuck-a-Rama’s, then crashed for the night.

With all this, the hike up West Mountain Peak was put on hold, since I wasn’t willing to take my truck on steep dirt mountain roads unless I knew my brakes were in good shape. I was able to find a place in town nearby, and first thing Monday (today) I took the truck in for an inspection. Good news: they were fine, glazed just a little, but nothing that needed repairing. By 9 a.m. I was back at the hotel. Now what? We had sort of written off West Mountain Peak for the day, assuming the truck would be in the shop. But it wasn’t, and here we were with a day to kill. So I brought up the hike again. Beth was not so interested any more, and it was getting somewhat late in the morning anyway. But she said I was welcome to give it a go if I wanted; she would stay at the hotel. I felt a bit bad, hoping she’d come along, but in retrospect, the hotel had all the amenities and I think she wanted them after so many days camping. It was about 9:45 a.m. when I left, figuring the hike would go quickly and I’d be back by early afternoon.

The peak is located west of town, the highpoint of the Beaver Dam Mountains. It is visible as a desert-colored peak – blacks, grays and tans – as opposed to the redder peaks and cliffs surrounding St. George. In a way, the Beaver Dam Range serves as a distinct boundary between two major deserts, separating the higher-elevation red-tinged deserts and badlands of southwestern Utah from the bleaker lands of the upper Mojave and Great Basin deserts to the west. Driving west along St. George Boulevard, I went north when the road ended, then west again on state highway UT-18 through the town of Santa Clara, then skirting Ivins, and eventually coming into the Shivwits Paiute Indian Reservation, about 20 miles west of St. George. By this time, the land forms and colors had changed noticeably, becoming less red and more tan, less cliffy and more rounded, more ‘Nevada-like’. West of Shivwits the road bends left and starts trending southwest. Although not marked by any road sign, the map has this as old US-91, the precursor to the current Interstate-15. I drove on this road about 6 miles, then found the access road into the range about a mile south of the Shivwits Reservation boundary sign. The access road is called Hell Hole Pass Trail on the maps, although nothing on the road itself mentioned this. It seemed to be in the right place on the maps, so I went in.

The road is fairly good, regularly maintained because of the towers that sit atop West Mountain Peak. Even so, I took it my usual slow pace. It gets steep about a mile in, then rises and drops twice before making a very steep push to the pass itself, 4.5 miles in from the pavement. I parked in a pullout near an old barbed-wire fence. The ‘main’ road dips to the left, heading toward Indian Springs, while the ‘side’ road, which looks a lot better to the eye, goes right, and is marked as 2 miles to the T.V. towers. I was at roughly 6,240 feet elevation at this pass, but it was very warm. It was a bit before 11 a.m. when I got all my stuff together for the hike. I would be traveling light: just a bunch of waters and some snacks in my pack.

I walked up the road as it bent right, at which point the towers were now in view. That was nice – just a few hundred feet of hiking and I could already see the ending! But it was deceiving in a way. The road then gets quite steep, and stays steep, for the next ¾ mile as it gains a steady 700 vertical feet up to a small pass near some power lines. The hiking was simple, but laborious. Now and then a breeze would kick up and cool me nicely. Otherwise, it was warm and somewhat uncomfortable. At the little pass the road dropped – a lot. I was happy to have some downhill to rest my legs but was kind of alarmed how much it dropped – 240 feet according to the map – because I knew this would be a bear coming out. I made good time to the lowpoint. At this time two work trucks rumbled by, on their way to the top to do their duties with the towers. At the lowpoint I had about 950 vertical feet of gain to make to the top, in what I figured was about ¾ of a mile. In other words, steep. I continued on.

All went well except that about halfway up I finally hit a wall. The heat was really getting to me (it had been 106 F in St. George the previous day, and it felt like the low-mid 90s on the trail here). There was no shade and any breezes were blocked by the ridges. I finally wobbled my way to the top ridge and walked the remainder of the road to the top-most hill, finding the summit cairn amid a set of buildings. Very unattractive. I tagged it, then turned right around for the hike out. I did take some time out to snap a photo or two of the views. Actually, the views are very impressive: almost 5,000 vertical feet between the summit and the deserts to the west. Looking south I saw Scrub Peak and further on, the Virgins. North and East I saw huge thunderheads forming, although above me we had nothing ... for the time being.

Although it had taken me just under two hours to make the summit, I was fairly beat and concerned about my well-being on the hike out. The 950-foot descent to the lowpoint of the trail took maybe 15 minutes, but the 240-foot regain kicked my butt. I took a couple breaks, but the heat was really getting me good. At one point one of the work trucks was now coming down, and I almost asked him for a lift, but I didn’t. Despite the discomfort, I wanted to make it out on my own. The last 700-foot descent took another 15 minutes and shortly, I was back to my truck. I didn’t even change into dry clothes or out of my boots. I just piled in and started the drive down. My truck’s brakes worked great (I was in 4-wheel low and engine braked the downhill bits), and I was back onto pavement in about 15 minutes, then back to civilization in another 15 minutes. I had plenty of water with me but I could feel it all collecting in my tummy – not a good sign because this is what usually happens to me when I start getting heat-distress (e.g. heat exhaustion) – the gut is the first to go. I found a Stop-&-Rob in Santa Clara and sucked down a 32-ounce Gatorade in about 5 minutes. Ahh, that’s what I needed. I felt much better. I was back to the hotel by about 2:30 p.m. in very hot weather – another mid-100s day here. Beth was holding the fort, and after a shower and some rest, we went for an early dinner at our new favorite St. George hangout, the Chuck-a-Rama buffet, corner of St. George Boulevard and Red Cliffs Road, just east of Interstate-15. That evening some gigantic thunderstorms came barreling through town, dropping all sorts of lightning and rain, which we enjoyed from the safety of our room.

The next day we drove out to Vegas for a visit with my folks and siblings and children thereof. We took the old-US-91 route down to Interstate-15, bypassing the Virgin River Gorge. The visit went well, and we enjoyed the Spamalot play the next night, a gift from my folks for my birthday. Not to give away the ‘plot’, but the end involves some crowd interaction in which they select a lucky individual to come onto the stage for a group shot with the Knights. And Beth was that lucky person! You had to be there. Never laughed so hard in my life: