Wanderings in Western Utah's Ibex Country
Jim Drysdale

To some of the more ambitious types out there, a weekend excursion is an itinerary with a sense of purpose and scope… Something that doesn't just happen, but instead falls as a result of planning, pursuit and dogged persistence. To others, myself included, this idea is a joke. Think of that cartoon character guy on the old T-shirts of the 70's that said "Keep On Truckin". Remember him? If he had an agenda, ours would be similar.

To begin with its mud season down in SW Utah and by that I mean wet stuff low in the mountains and winter conditions up high. My first attempt at a plan was shot once I slogged my way up the high road into the wildly remote Wah Wah Mtns. There I was greeted with astounding beauty and, of course, the tiresome prospect of more mud trudging, followed by snow. Yeah, I had brought along snowshoes but really had no intention of using them. Note… This behavior results from being a boy scout for a brief stint (etched upon my mind as an eternity). Net result…at least I came prepared.

Pointing my wheels north, I eventually happened upon a little gem of a place called Crystal Peak in the northern reaches of the Wah Wah range.

The problems at this point were big winds down on the flats and WSA signs up in the desirable camping spots. That would mean Wilderness Study Area for those whom are unfamiliar. So I moved on.

The thing I have going for me is a well-stocked supply of maps and books. This has effectively opened up the country for my eyes to see. In this case, it led me to the great Jack Watson's Ibex Ranch. This place is super cool. It's hard to imagine Jack, or anyone, settling amidst this most harsh, desolate, wild country. Hats off to that 'ol boy.

Now here is where solo camping just kills my sense of purpose… I wake up early, cook a big breakfast, but with no one driving the train, crawl back into my sleeping bag... Next thing I open my eyes… I'm ready to roll now and the time is a very sorry 11:30 AM. You see, when I am with a group, some folks can't resist hearing the sound of their own voices at various ungodly morning hours. They can and probably do wake the dead. Still others just yuk it up loud, and then finally resort to shelling my tent with very small annoying rocks... These are old friends of course - and they do indeed seem to know when and how to get me stirring… So long as they make sure that there's coffee on the stove - otherwise picture a hibernating bear that has just been rudely awakened.

And so last but not least, my aimless wanderings led me to this cozy little overlook on the western side of the Confusion Range. To a spot where I watched the sun go down over the tiny hamlet known as Baker, Nevada. The mighty Snake Range, famous for Great Basin National Park loomed as the light dimmed. Finally there was nothing other than this massive moonlit wall, snow reflecting, towering several thousands of feet above the village. I read some, snacked, got tired and hopped into the back of my ride. Yeah I had a tent with me, but when it all boiled down had no intention of using it.

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