October 3 . . . If it’s cold enough, it will snow

Words of wisdom from the Park Ranger at Great Basin National Park. For context, please consider that Great Basin NP is about as remote as one can be in the Lower 48. It’s 205 miles south of the 80 . . . 300 miles north of the 15, and about 200 miles west of I-70. You don’t randomly show up here without knowledge, you have to want to and intend to be here. With thunder showers in the area, we figured it was worth asking . . . Do you think it’s snowing on the summit of the Wheeler Peak (the hike we were contemplating), and the ever wise park ranger offered the above words . . . no shit, Sherlock, . . . Holmes, and every other fictional detective. Really! We are contemplating a hike that will take us above 13,000 feet, and simply want to know of the possible weather at that elevation, and this clown tells us that it will snow if it’s cold enough. We pray to God, Budda, and every other Diety that this guy isn’t on the receiving end of Spot messenger if we ever have to send a 911 alert.

Relying on Fred Flintstone and Scooby Doo, we plow ahead and secure a camp site for the Rebel. I did note that Smart Guy was identifying the location of Directv’s satellite.when choosing a spot. We camped at 7500 feet, and the road to the trailhead climbed to 10,000 feet in under 10 miles. With freedom from the trailer, the FJ tackled this grade at 40 mph, sometimes pressing 50 mph, reluctantly slowing to a normal speed for Ansel to take picture of the fall colors on the way up to Mount Wheeler and a few alpine lakes..

One does have to put up with a certain amount of “man card ness” when traveling with Smart Guy, in this case, he pulled his new FJ into the trailhead parking lot, and parked right next to a corvette, reasoning, “I’m in the only car here car cool enough to park next to a ‘vette”. Who would have thought such a hike existed in the middle of the Nevada desert? It seemed more like the Canadian Rockies or Enchantments of Washington. The old man showed his age, consistently behind me on the trail, perhaps that extra summer conditioning is paying dividends.
It was cold and raining that night, but here was the scene in the Rebel. Go Brewers!

The constant rain and 45 degree temps made us think of home and want to go farther south. The route east traversed multiple basins and was the definition of desolate – 2 buildings, 6 cars, 3 albums and 100 miles later we reenter the civilization known as the I-15 freeway. We duck back to the east, cross one more mountain pass, and drop into Panguitch for a regional ritual stop at the local market for a few choice steaks and some thick cut bacon.

Curt Proclaims, loudly, that it is the best butcher in Utah. The clerk and customer from Salt Lake City readily agree, and we are happily on our way. With weather in the forecast, we evaluate our intended destination of Lake Powell and bypass the “disbursed camping” at Lone Rock and settle for the civilization of Wahweap. We’re talking 3 days of high winds and thunderstorms. But we get our heads around it and are happy to have some shelter.