The Ups and Downs of Smith Mesa
Journal Entry #32
June 10th, 2022
After camping near the snow banks of Central Oregon, we put on some serious van miles, working our way south through eastern California and then due east across the vast Great Basin area of Nevada. Our destination was a Hipcamp, the Zion Wright Family Ranch in Utah. The Hipcamp sites were on a huge swath of rolling ranch grazing land, dotted with juniper and piƱon, and perched high on Smith Mesa with jaw dropping views of the cliffs and rock faces of Zion National Park.
There was plenty of room to spread out- easily 600+ acres. To get to the ranch we had to ascend a red clay road. Actually, that description is an understatement. Tom was confident we could make it up the VERY steep rutted dirt slope, IF we didnāt stop. Once up on the mesa, the ranch rules were simple; find a spot for your rig, and camp. There were rock fire rings scattered here and there, and porta Johnās placed strategically under trees for shade every quarter mile or so.
We picked our way on rocky rutted tracks best suited for an 4X4 jeep. A couple of overhead cabinets unceremoniously flew open and contents spilled onto the bed and floor. These were the cabinets that do not have positive latches. All of our drawers, heavy cabinets and pantry have latches after early experiences with spillage but we have had no issues with the overheads until this little journey. Now it looks as if positive latches for our overhead cabinets has made the list in Tomās little red journal of improvements that are needed for the van!
We found a spot at one of the highest points on the Mesa with 360Ā° views and set up camp. We spent two days exploring the area. We biked the Smith Mesa Road and hiked along the cliffs at edge of the mesa. It was incredibly quiet. We had no neighbors. We saw one or two tent campers off in the distance. The cacti were blooming and you could hear the wind through the piƱons. We even saw a coyote moving near our campsite around dusk.
On the second day, a young man on horseback approached our van. He was sporting a large white cowboy hat. Although covered in red dust, we noticed he was wearing a wrangler sponsored rodeo shirt. We struck up conversation and learned he was Stuart Wright, the youngest of ranch owner Bill Wrightās thirteen children. He was on site that afternoon to give horseback tours and check Hipcamp reservation numbers. We asked if he was still competing on the rodeo circuit. He shared he had stepped back from professional rodeo after two serious injuries that required him to be airlifted for emergency medical attention. Both injuries were due to collapsed lungs from being crushed by horses. He jokingly explained that he told his wife that the first fall was a freak accident and would likely never happen again! We read later that the family has a storied past, with six generations of ranchers and rodeo champions and also a complex and fascinating history. This terrific article gives a deeper dive on the Wright Family and their relationship with the land.
On our way back from a bike and hike trip we passed a large group of RVs with California plates gathered together at a spot below ours. They looked to be in their mid 20ās. They had a couple of large travel trailers, several motorbikes and and a uhaul truck. This was unusual, as most of the campers were widely dispersed and most of them in tents. As we walked by we noticed they were setting up speaker stands. Not a good sign. We returned to the van.
While we couldnāt see their camp from ours, we could hear them. The low thumping bass began at around 6 PM. We optimistically hoped the music would stop at around 10 PM when most campgrounds call for quiet hours. Even out in BLM, it is common courtesy among campers to be quiet at nightfall.
But by 11pm the music had not stopped. We considered going down to say something. However, it was easily a quarter-mile away and through pitch black terrain. We debated whether or not they were simply clueless and didnāt realize how far their music carried. Or was it some sort of rave event and they didnāt care? Frankly, we didnāt know what kind of people we were going to encounter so we decided to put our fans on high and try to get some sleep.
Unfortunately, the music played all night. When we arose at 5:30am the next morning to make our way down to Zion National Park the music was still thumping.
On our way down, I drafted a note to the hosts to let them know of the issue. As we descended the mesa road, a white pick up truck was moving up the hill. He stopped and waved at us so we rolled down our windows. It turns out it he was the manager of a very luxurious glamping site down at the bottom of the mesa called Under Canvas Zion. Apparently, many of the guests at the resort had complained about the music as well. He said he was coming up to meet the local police which had been dispatched due to a noise complaint. He asked if we had heard the music.
We shared that we had stayed at the ranch and that large party came in and set up on the southeast corner. We explained that we didnāt choose confront the group. He asked if we would make a call to the local police office so that there was a report coming from someone other than his resort guests, so we made the phone call on our way to Zion.
Epilogue: We ended up hearing from the Wright family. The apologized and very kindly offered us a refund on our three nights at the ranch. Mind you, it was an EXTRAORDINARY camping experience (save these unruly guests).
One of our favorite parts of this year-long journey has been seeking out beautiful and tranquil camping spots. We enjoy remote, open spaces. But we canāt always control who else shows up.
