Impression Evergreen

Lowers Falls in Bells Canyon Deep in the Wasatch Mountains, Bells Canyon Creek begins its long descent from a remote reservoir. The spirited stream rushes through an infernal gorge where it cascades into a glorious waterfall. In order to attain the lower falls, you must ascend an unmarked trail that’s been worn through dense foliage. During the summer, a sweaty scramble up to the sheer overlook is a hellish endeavor. Upon arriving at the demonic destination, you are showered with cold water and a deafening roar. You must proceed with caution near this treacherous torrent or risk being swept into the steep abyss. Despite the danger, it’s a wish-list destination where angels undoubtedly land. During this difficult journey you may fall into despair but don’t sell your soul to the devil, use only God-given strength to get you there. Bells Canyon Trail Deep in the Wasatch Mountains A spirited stream A glorious waterfall The trail is cut through dense folia...

Light is the symbol of truth "To love beauty is to see light." ~ Victor Hugo We ascended straight to hell and back. Hell's Hole that is. If our destination truly was the Devil's Den, then Hell has frozen over. There was still an enormous amount of deep snow obstructing the rugged trail to Lucifer's Lair. Our journey began well enough. Warm sunshine filtered through a tunnel of arched aspen. Chirping birds and the rumble of West Chicago Creek provided comforting background noise. The majestic pathway of soft dirt beckoned the unwary traveler. The lovely entry into the wilderness concealed the truth about the difficulties that would lie ahead. Precarious bridges lured the curious seeker deeper into the abyss. Inexplicably, the sky turned gray and it began to rain. How would it end? Swallowed by the eternal shadow of Gray Wolf Mountain, the underworld was a cold and forbidding place. Stamped into the earth, the depression was enclosed by a dark forest of...

Snowy Stagecoach Hollow If you follow a crooked road west, heading towards the row of blue mountains charged with procuring the setting sun, you'll discover a steep canyon carved by a ribbon of black ice. The secluded glen is called Stagecoach Hollow. Local legend has it that a tenacious mistral prowls the area bedeviling visitors. Winter snow creates a monochrome landscape where white aspen contrast with the dark pine. Because the rugged terrain is a mosaic of mud, rocks, snow and ice, navigation requires the nimbleness of a goat. Howling like a ghostly demon, the relentless wind chased us down into the brooding forest. The mysterious sanctuary was a tangle of gnarled tree trunks and broken limbs. Confined to a murky chasm during the December dusk, a daunting staircase was the only way out. The stiff breeze kept pace, whirling through the treetops and over cliff edges like an insane daredevil. Across a footbridge and finally back up top, a final blast of blowing snow st...