Donut Falls Trail, Utah

The Drive

It’s obvious upon arriving at Big Cottonwood Canyon why it’s so popular. The road from the Salt Lake City valley into the Wasatch Front follows Cottonwood Creek as it races down the mountain, turbulent with spring snowmelt. The road winds through switchbacks lined by towering rock walls, climbing 3000 feet to the Cardiff Trailhead parking lot at 7300 feet elevation.

The Hike

I opted to hike the Donut Falls Trail from the Cardiff trailhead instead of driving another mile to the Donut Falls trailhead. The trail begins at a wide meadow (it looks moosey) before winding upward through aspen and conifer forests.

This section of the trail should be renamed “Clematis Way.” I’ve never seen so many clematis blooms. The drooping, delicate, subtly striped, lilac-colored petals make it one of my favorite mountain wildflowers.

Will you grow tired of pictures of them? I even photographed buds gently beginning to curl open. I’ll exercise restraint.

All of the other common spring mountain flowers are here: small-flowered miterwort, mountain bluebells, forget-me-nots, Solomon’s plume, hooked spur violets, and more.

As I approach the small parking lot for the Donut Falls Trail, ground squirrels scurry through the leaf litter along the sides of the path, eating grass and peanuts, and wondering if I might have something better (I don’t feed wildlife).

A Steller’s Jay in dramatic blues flits about the trees, eventually landing on the trail behind me.

The Detour

I knew the trail had a bridge out, and I intentionally bypassed the detour. Trail reviews led me to believe I could wade across in my Tevas. Not today. Not this spring river. I could backtrack. It’s not that far. The makeshift bridge is double-wide, sturdy, and has a relatively short span.

I considered my options, stowed my camera into my backpack, and mustered up all of my courage. (I’m afraid of heights). I stepped up onto the flat logs and tensely, slowly, shuffled my way across. It wasn’t bad, but I’m going to take the detour on the way back!

I pass through dense aspen groves before coming to the Mill River again, where the trail seems to end. After watching another hiker easily navigate the short distance through the fast-moving, ice-cold, ankle-deep water to dry land, I followed. The rocks weren’t slippery, and the water wasn’t deep enough for any significant force, but in the 60 seconds it took me to traverse this flooded spot, my feet had become numb. There’s no question that this is the end of the trail for me.

The Falls

Ahead of me, others are re-entering the rushing, frigid water to cross a much longer section with a knee-deep jaunt to get to the other side at the base of the falls. Arms flail. Legs wobble. No thanks. I can see the flooded namesake donut hole from where I am, and I have a full view of the falls. I’m not missing anything by opting out of hypothermia and possible drowning. 

It strikes me that this hike is never the same twice. The river is always different. In the fall, this torrent is a trickle, and people walk across the dry rocks here to reach the cave behind the falls. Right now, I can’t imagine what that would look like. A quick Google search when I get home shows me the dramatic difference.

I lingered a bit and then retraced my steps, stopping at the aspen groves and taking in the peaked mountain tops and azure blue sky.

At the washed-out bridge, I take the detour along a service road that hugs the creek. At times, the creek seems to be reclaiming this ravine and the road with it.

As I descend the half-mile down this trail, the creek slows and widens. By the time I cross the creek again (the road goes over a culvert), the forest has become the river.

Stunning!

Then, I’m back on the Clematis Trail in the warm evening light. At the meadow near the parking lot, several different professional photographers are preparing to photograph a wedding party, a quinciera, and a large, well-dressed family group. It’s obvious why the photographers and their clients chose this spot to memorialize their occasions.

It’s an easy hike, whether you take the four-mile trail I did or the one-mile trail. The scenery can’t be beat. Cottonwood Canyon Road closes with significant snow and requires chains in the winter, making this a good spring, summer, and fall hike, especially on days like this one, where the valley temperatures are pushing one hundred degrees.

If you’re interested in purchasing or licensing any images you see here, please email me at SNewenham at exploringnaturephotos.com, and I’ll make it happen.

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