The highpoint of Tooele county is Deseret Peak in the Stansbury Mountains, a big range that runs north-south about 40 miles west of Salt Lake City. It is the last big range (as one heads west) before the vast salt flats of the Great Salt Lake Desert. I was on an extended weekend, so to speak, during my time off from teaching and had already visited four other highpoints; Deseret Peak would be my fifth and last for this trip. The previous day I had hiked Naomi Peak in Cache county and had driven the 100 miles or so to the western fringes of Salt Lake City. It was barely noon the day before (the 11th) when I arrived in the area. The plan was to spend the 11th playing tourist and checking out the sump that is the famous "Great Salt Lake".

I've only visited the Salt Lake once before, in 1991 while on a banzai run through Utah in my tiny Chevrolet Sprint. I recall exiting somewhere near the lake and walking out into the water. I wanted to test the claim that because of its saltiness, I would float on the surface without any effort. I walked out about a quarter-mile and even then the water was just shin level. That, and the "bottom" was a horrible goop that made walking work. Oh, did I mention the smell and the flies? I decided to abandon the flotation experiment and get back ashore. Fortunately they have showers one can use to wash away the crusty, stinky muck from your skin. Other than a drive across I-80 in 1999, that was the only direct contact I had with the Salt Lake itself. This time, I wanted to visit it again. In particular I wanted to visit the Saltair, which is this peculiar building off of I-80 north about a half-mile, about 5 miles west of the airport. It sits out there all by itself and has a hokey Arabian theme to its architecture. Nevertheless I went to visit it and found out it's just a big room - sort of a pavilion/auditorium used for dances, concerts and other meetings. It's about as big as a typical skating rink. The parking lot is totally a mess, and the walk into the building bypasses some burnt-out boats or similar, sitting in a little jetty. The building is decrepit. There is no air-conditioning, and the snack bar sells its drinks out of coolers. The bathrooms don't work either. With all this I was surprised to learn this particular building was built in 1983, and was the second incarnation of the original Saltair, which lasted from about 1890 to about the 1930s or so. With the extended drought here in the west, the shoreline of the lake (actually, the Great Salt Lake is really a sea) was about a half-mile walk along crusty salt and sand. I got about half that distance before the smell and common sense turned me back. I was surprised to see quite a few people walking out there to swim around and have fun. Some were clearly Euro-tourists. My guess this is something everyone does once then learns to avoid. As impressive as the Great Salt Lake is from a geological/hydrological point of view, it's really a foul-smelling place, reminiscent of the Salton Sea in California. Maybe it's better in the winter. In any case, I'd had enough and so I continued a tiny bit further west on I-80 and exited at the Lake Point/Tooele exit.

Two large mountain ranges, the Stansburys on the west and the Oquirrh ("Oker") range on the east, hem in a wide valley called Rush Valley (I think). Herein are the cities of Tooele (the county seat and largest city), Grantsville (second largest city) and a few others. Tooele is mainly known for its Army Depot, a vast storehouse of armaments and materiel. Further south, and including much of the southern Salt Desert, is the Dugway Proving Grounds. Needless to say much of this area is off limits to civilians. Fortunately none of this has any negative impact regarding access to Deseret Peak. I drove about 15 miles from I-80 to Grantsville, population about 5,000, only to learn they have no hotels, so I backtracked pretty much back to I-80 (exit 99) and stayed at the Oquirrh Motor Hotel. It was about 3 p.m. when I got my room and pretty warm. I didn't do a whole lot except dodge the big rigs at the two truck stops bordering the hotel.

Early the next morning I drove back into Grantsville, then south on a signed access road toward South Willow Campground. About 4 miles after leaving Grantsville, I took another junction right into the range. The road was paved for the first 3 miles, but the pavement was horrible. It was a rare case where the dirt road at the forest boundary was much better! I drove this dirt road another 4 miles through some interesting narrows to the Loop Campground, where the Mill Creek Trailhead is located. I arrived right about 7 a.m. in slightly breezy, slightly cloudy weather. I was the only person there (no campers). I started in about 7:15 a.m.

The route to Deseret's summit is 3.5 miles one way with about 3,600 feet of vertical gain. In other words, a pretty consistent grind. But this was just three days after my Borah climb, which gains 5,100 feet in the same 3.5 miles, so by comparison, this hike would be easy. The first half-mile or so gains moderately, staying north of the Mill Creek drainage, makes two switchbacks, then crosses the creek itself. A junction in the trees immediately follows. I went left, as the sign said. Here, the trail was level for a short bit, but then it began its consistent grade again. The next two miles gained about 2,100 vertical feet to achieve the main ridge at elevation 10,042 feet. This stretch was very pretty: mostly open meadow hemmed in by enormous cliffs and ridges. The gradient never got too bad and I was able to make good time. Only the final 100 vertical feet, where the trail is pretty loose and scree-ridden, was mildly troublesome. But I had one really neat event: as I hiked, head down as usual, I heard some rustling and a loud "voosh": a huge, beautiful eagle alighted from a nearby tree branch and flew right by me, close enough that I could have reached out and grabbed him if I was so inclined. I watched him fly and soar, simply stunning. What could I do? I applauded him! Shortly I reached the main ridge where I quickly got nailed by the stiff winds. I took refuge in a small stand of trees about 200 feet to the right (northwest, roughly).

The trail continues up and contours across and around back a small foreground peak. For much of this stretch the winds were howling. Once "around back", the trail switchbacks up the west face of the main summit massif, eventually coming around one small bend by which time the actual true summit is finally visible, the first time I saw it on the whole hike. I hiked the final little bit and made the top just before 10 a.m. The winds were strong and it was a bit cloudy, but not too bad. I took in the beautiful views, especially nice to the north and south, and snapped a couple of photos. There's a small rocky dugout/wind shelter, but I could not locate a register nor the benchmark itself. To the north are a pair of impressive peaks that I though were the summits (one of them, at least) as I hiked up the main ridge. In fact, from the desert floor below these look like the summits, but they're not. See my photo at left for reference. I centered these peaks, thinking they were the top; the true summit is to the left a bit.

After about 15 minutes I started down, meeting up with a man and his two grandchildren (I'm assuming) at the ridge. I made excellent time down these trails, which were steep but rarely too steep. Just the right gradient for me to jog-walk. As a result it took me just about 90 minutes to egress, coming back out to my rental car about 11:30 a.m. After a free shower at the TA Truck Stop near the Oquirrh Hotel, I spent the remainder of the day poking about Salt Lake City before flying out that night.

In case you're wondering how to pronounce "Tooele": the locals all seem to say "Twillah", or something close. I thought it was "Too-El" or "Too-El-ee". Well, now I know.