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Where does one hike if it there is rain, thunder and lightning?
The sensible answer would have been "Are you crazy? Why would you do a stupid thing like that?"
This week, we decided to hike in Silver Fork. From the parking lot we could see, up the canyon, falling rain and the occasional flash of lightning - accompanied (with some delay) by the deep rumble of thunder echoing down-canyon. Because we were going to hike despite the weather, we decided that a bit of water and electricity wasn't going to be much of a hindrance. Silver fork was chosen because we knew that it stayed fairly low in the canyon - something fairly important if lightning is about - and followed a well-established trail (an old mining road) that wasn't likely to be too muddy.
On the way up, we were treated to a break in clouds, revealing the shiny, high-contrast wet granite backgrounded by dark clouds, framed by the occasional double rainbow. We made our way to the Solitude parking lot - making sure that we parked on the main road, as the "official" closing time of the lot itself was about 7pm. Setting across the parking lot, we experienced a light drizzle - not enough to get one wet, but enough to keep the leaves of plants covered with droplets. As we cut across the parking lot, we noticed that the ski lift towers that had been present several weeks go were absent and presumably installed for the new lift - wherever that was: There was still a lot of gear laying about - no doubt destined to be lifted with a helicopter for installation.
After our parking lot traverse, dropping down onto the road, and walking past a few cabins, we finally entered the mouth of Silver Fork, following along the trail. With the rain still gently falling, we continued up the well-defined road, eventually coming to the Alta tunnel: Originally cut as a drain tunnel, this is one of the major sources of water for Solitude, having been covered up less than a decade ago and diverted directly into a pipe. Prior to this, one could stand near the portal and hear the sound of the water ebb and flow in a cycle of, perhaps 7-12 minutes: We wondered what, exactly, caused this and imagined a very slow-motion "glug-glug" going on as water and air repeatedly exchanged places.
Above the Alta Tunnel, the trail continued upwards, making a sudden right-hand turn. Above this point, the two-track road is somewhat less-distinct, the second track being overgrown. It is also at this point that one is happy to let someone else lead the way, knocking the majority of the water droplets off the plants prior to walking through them ones self. This week, I'd managed to forget to bring along hiking shorts, so I ended up with wet boots and with jeans that were soaked below the knee: Had I remembered to wear shorts, I'd only have had wet shoes to contend with.
About 3/4 of a mile above the Solitude tunnel, the trail steepens significantly and turns to the east, making its way to the top of the canyon. Along this portion, one gets a good view of both cliff and gorge before the trail tops out amongst the remnants of the Wellington mine.
By this time, the rain had stopped and the skies had cleared enough to light the surrounding cliffs with alpenglow. Finally reaching the remnants of the Wellington mine, we parked ourselves on the mostly-buried remnants of the 20 horsepower engine, waiting for the rest of the group to arrive.
After 5-10 minutes, everyone had finally arrived and we ate our snacks and re-winded ourselves while watching the rays of sun disappear behind the nearby ridges. As it was getting dark, we took our obligatory photograph and Mike M., who'd realized that he only had a pair of prescription sunglasses, decided to start down, getting past the steepest part of the descent while he could still see the trail: The rest of the group followed shortly thereafter.
Several days prior to the hike, Ron visited the Heavens Above web site to see if there happened to be an Iridium Flare coincident with the likely time of the hike: There wasn't but there turned out to be a nice pass by the Space Station. At about the time that we'd all reached the main north-south part of the canyon, it was time to steal an occasional skyward glance. While the pass was visible from horizon-to-horizon from about 9:26 to 9:31, we expected to see much less of this from the confines of the narrow canyon. Knowing that it was to become visible from the west-northwest, we stared in roughly that direction as we stumbled down the trail, seeing nothing. Finally, Bryan spotted it behind us - overhead and to the south: A impressively bright spot moving across the sky.
We continued, without incident, down the trail and onto the blacktop. Spotting where the trail to traverse the Solitude parking lot took off, we left a large rock in the middle of the road to mark the spot for the follow-on group, remembering Gordon's own experience several weeks ago when we'd done Honeycomb fork. Crossing the parking lot and finally reaching the car, we waited for the rest of the party to arrive before heading down-canyon. Despite what seemed to be herds of deer along the road combined with a fogging windshield (due to the car's occupants being wet from the hike) everyone managed to make it down without incident, going their separate ways after reaching the parking lot.
According to Keller, Silver Fork is the site of some of the earliest mining to occur in Big Cottonwood canyon in about 1870. By the next year, a charcoal-fired smelter was built near the mouth of the canyon, close to the Richmond Mine and soon, the community of Belleville appeared. The smelter was short-lived, the works being moved elsewhere by the end of the next year.
Near the top of the canyon, the Wellington Mine (named after one Wellington Sprouse) was one of many overlapping claims. In about 1870, the Walker brothers, who ran the several operations, including the Emma and Prince of Wales mines, bought out most of the nearby claims to minimize the likelihood of later litigation - a tactic that was largely successful. The Prince of Wales mine and nearby claims were quickly developed, with the 40 horsepower steam engine having been installed at the top of the Prince of Wales shaft in 1875, a 20 horsepower engine, fed by water from the Prince of Wales mine, at the Wellington tunnel, all using water pumped up from Grizzly Gulch by a 15 horsepower engine. Apparently, these mines were intermittently operated into the mid 1930's.
The Alta tunnel was started in 1912 with the hopes that it would intersect the same ore body as the Prince of Wales mine, but it was never very successful. Before too long, water was struck, complicating matters and by 1919, the tunnel achieved a depth of 3800 feet and hit Tintic quartzite, positively indicating that there was no value to proceeding any further. The mine was intermittently worked until 1938 - and again, briefly and for the last time in 1946.
Much of the above information is from the book "The Lady in the Ore Bucket" by Charles Keller.
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