Never trust a jetboil lid
Cataract Gorge// simpe joys, sandwiches, swimming, dogs, and guns
Nights out: 2 Miles driven: 141 Soundtrack: Waterfalls, Death Cab For Cutie
It’s funny how simple things can mean the most
Day 1
Packed up the Bronco and headed for the hills yet again. I wanted to beat the heat and spend some time in cold, refreshing mountain water. I also wanted to spend some time cooking for friends outside. I had prepped some recipes, packed the ingredients, seasoned the cookware, and prepared to spend time in the outdoor kitchen. It stayed civilized for about an hour. Then the domesticated trip turned wildling pretty quickly — as it usually does with folks in the woods.
I ducked out of work early on Friday to meet Caleb, Evan, and Coby near Murdock Basin. We won't name names, but another grown adult male turned around due to the road being rough. I dont blame him. The road in is rough, rubbly, and slow-going — no match for the Bronco, though. I aired down, fired up StarLink, and drove the 6 miles of boulders while taking a work meeting. I’m highly professional.
Caleb had already scoped the sites and found a great one overlooking Cataract Gorge. I pulled in, leveled the truck, popped the tent, and strung up the tarp. Home sweet home. The simple joys of being outside were already soaking in. My system is dialed, and setting up a damn fine campsite is getting quick. We sat around for about two and a half minutes before pulling on the swim trunks and heading for the water.
The water was cold enough to make a grown man act like a child, and that’s exactly what we did. We dared each other to get in. And when we did, we whimpered and whined until we went numb. We hopped from swimming hole to swimming hole, trying to find the best ones. That’s a tough task when there are an impossible number of places to swim. But we persevered. Caleb brought his best friend, Penelope. She’s the four-legged kind of friend that occasionally says “bark.” She stuck by his side like he was the last man on earth. It made me miss my dogs.
We had our fill of cold water and headed back to camp for more feral behavior — this time with guns. We loaded up, crossed the lake to the forested side, and set up a target. Then we missed a lot, hit sometimes, and shot until we got hungry. Once again we crossed the lake, headed to camp, and fired up the stove. While we caramelized onions, we shared a beer with some other folks doing the same thing. They fished all the way up the river and arrived at our site parched and asking for beer. I’d likely lean toward water or a Gatorade myself if I was dehydrated, but hey, beer is like 95% water anyway.
We ate our Italian sausage subs and went back out for more. This time we scrambled up the waterfall on the other side of camp. The whole basin is full of oddly tropical-looking pools and falls. It certainly doesn’t feel like Utah, especially the Uintas. Everywhere you look, there's water. It's like some sort of holistic hippie spa meets a mountain oasis. We watched the sun go down over the river and headed back to camp.
Sitting around the fire with Penelope on Caleb’s lap, we ate Oreos, Rice Krispies treats, and each crawled off to our rooftop forts for the night. The waterfalls drowned out the sounds of the other campers.
Day 2
I slept in later than I have in years. I only woke once the sun poked over the top of the ridge and lit up my tent like the Fourth of July. We had already lost time, so I immediately started brewing a cup and heating up the cast iron griddle for the morning’s French toast. Then, like the tough guys we are, we whimpered and whined as we got back in the cold creek. We found a pool with a few waterfalls and took turns swimming while the other hung out with Penelope on the sun-baked rocks. Then we made some sandwiches.
We could hear Evan’s truck trundling down the bouldery switchbacks so we walked up the road to meet them. We helped them set up camp and shortly after, there were four of us in the water. As tough as ever. We spent the afternoon swimming, hiking, shit-talking, shooting, and as all grown men inexplicably do, we threw rocks off of stuff. Evan and I spent 10 minutes rolling a waist-high boulder four feet so we could push it off the waterfall. The splash was disappointingly small, and our lower backs felt their age. Oh well — it’s the thought that feels right anyway.
The afternoon was one for the books. No phones, no bullshit, just a bunch of folks (and their dogs) doing wild shit and recharging the stoke batteries. We weren’t the only group doing the same. Hoots and hollers filled the canyon as each group found their own feral therapy. We cooked more sandwiches, went for a sunset dip, dared each other to swim into the abyss, and sat on the edge of the bank shooting guns. I suggested Oreos and firing up the fire pit, but Coby insisted on watching the sunset until the absolute last sliver of light dipped below the ridge. He’s a wise man. Sometimes it’s the simple things.
We strung up lights, fired up the Howl, and ate the Oreos. One dinner isn’t enough when you’re swimming in frigid water all day, so Caleb and Evan fired up the Jet Boils and made ramen. Caleb learned a valuable lesson that night as he strained his noodles through the lid of the Jet Boil. Turns out, Jet Boil lids aren’t to be trusted. Penelope was the beneficiary of his mistake and got to eat the noodles that fell in the dirt while Caleb tore open a second pack.
We sat around the fire quietly, and one by one wandered off to bed.
Day 3
We got an early start. There was bacon to make, swimming to do, and a rough road to drive. The water felt 10 degrees colder in the morning than it did the afternoon before. It didn’t help that thick wildfire smoke rolled in and blocked out the sun. We didn’t last long in the water — just enough to wash off the day’s grime. Then we packed up and trundled back up the rocky road.
It’s funny how simple things can mean the most:
A man and his dog
Best friends
Cold water
A beer with strangers
Throwing rocks
Shooting guns
Being loud
Watching the last light scrape its way up a mountain
Doing something that scares you
Walking barefoot
A campfire
Doing what makes you happy
Not giving a shit
Being wild
Maybe we're all just a little happier when we're allowed to be wild for a while.
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Yes. There are several dispersed campsites near Cataract Gorge in the Murdock Basin area of the Uinta Mountains. Most are first-come, first-served with no amenities, so arrive early on busy summer weekends. Practice Leave No Trace and be prepared to pack out everything you bring in.
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Absolutely. Cataract Gorge is one of the best places I've found to cool off in the Uintas. The creek forms countless pools, small waterfalls, and swimming holes. The water stays extremely cold even in the middle of summer, making it a perfect escape from Utah's heat. Timing is everything, though. During the spring runoff you wont’t be swimming.
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The final several miles into Cataract Gorge are slow, rocky, and rough. High-clearance vehicles are recommended, and airing down your tires makes the drive noticeably more comfortable. While many SUVs can make it, expect a slow crawl over loose rock and uneven terrain. No major obstacles, just rubble.
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Yes, with reasonable caution. The swimming holes, waterfalls, and easy exploring make it a fun destination for families, but the rocks can be slippery and the water is cold. Keep a close eye on children near moving water and steep drop-offs.
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Bring plenty of drinking water, sturdy footwear for wet rocks, a swimsuit, camp chairs, layers for cool mountain evenings, and everything you'll need for dispersed camping. If you plan to cook, a camp stove and simple meals are all you need for a great weekend beside the water.
Keep Wandering
Alexander Lake: Kind of the opposite of this trip. This was all about braving elements and being tough.
Soapstone Basin Lounging: Bikes, bacon, beers, BB guns, and a low-stakes weekend spent getting pleasantly uncivilized close to home.
Teton Pass: More feral therapy.
