The climb to Lake Blanche had been on my list for a long time, but as I stepped out of the car yesterday, June 27th, at the trailhead in Big Cottonwood Canyon, I had no idea how deeply this hike would burn into my bones. The air smelled of fresh pine forest and damp earth. The trail challenged me from the very first minute. Every single step served as an unvarnished reminder that the months pass and the body matures; the steep sections and the 837 meters elevation gain sent my pulse racing mercilessly. Yet nature provided a magnificent backdrop right from the start, pushing me forward step by step. In the beginning, the roaring rush of Mill B South Fork Creek accompanied me, its ice-cold water wildly swirling around dark, lichen-covered rocks and bringing a wonderful freshness into the dense mountain forest.
As soon as the dense canopy broke open, the canyon revealed its monumental geometry. The mighty, forested flanks slowly gave way to rugged cliffs of ancient quartzite, whose diagonal fault lines told the story of Earth’s powerful history. Looking back across the valley, the pale limestone domes of the Mount Raymond massif rose on the opposite side of the road, gleaming almost white in the gentle summer light. Higher up, the valley widened into a high alpine cirque, where giant, gray talus slopes towered steeply and shaded gullies in the dark rock still guarded the last brilliant remnants of winter snow. The path became rougher, rockier, and seemed to have no end.
Image Gallery I: The Steep Path Through the Millennia
Exhaustion sat deep in my limbs as I forced myself up the last steep switchbacks. Tilted, terraced rock slabs lay before me like a monumental, red staircase. Here, ice-age glaciers had shaped the hard rock into smooth, rounded whalebacks. A small, wild waterfall plunged down through a V-shaped notch, announcing that the destination was near.
Image Gallery II: The Stony Finale on the Way to Lake Blanche
Then, with the last of my energy reserves, I reached the glacial threshold – and the effort of the climb was instantly forgotten. Before me spread the majestic silence of Lake Blanche. The calm, emerald-green water reflected the dark pine trees and the massive, towering rock pyramid of Sundial Peak, its pale quartzite flanks piercing the sky like a giant sundial. Young aspens with their pale trunks swayed gently on the shore, while in the background, the mighty, horseshoe-shaped north faces of the Broad Fork Twin Peaks with their crescent-shaped snowfields dominated the horizon. A little further on, the rock terraces revealed a view of the lower neighboring lakes, Lake Florence and Lake Lillian – an unforgettable trio of lakes embedded in the barren splendor of the Wasatch Range.
Image Gallery III: The Magical Lake Trio on the High Plateau
Leaving this peaceful mountain world was difficult, especially as the sky slowly overcast and a light drizzle started several times. The descent claimed its very own tribute: my knees made themselves felt with every step on the hard, steep path, complaining quietly about age and strain. In the final 500 meters, the heavens opened up after all, and heavy, thick drops pelted down on me. Completely soaked but happy, I reached the car – and as if to mock me, the rain stopped at that exact moment. With no provisions in my backpack, a fierce hunger drove me straight to Midvalley. The first available restaurant was a simple McDonald’s. After this grueling adventure, however, the ambience didn’t matter at all: the burger tasted like an absolute feast after a hard day in the mountains.