You’re driving up Weber Canyon, the walls of the canyon tightening around you, and suddenly the pavement gets a bit rougher. Most people keep heading toward Park City or maybe Mirror Lake Highway, but if you take that sharp turn toward Oakley, you're heading for a different kind of vibe entirely. Smith Morehouse Campground Utah isn't some manicured resort experience. It’s tucked into the western edge of the Uinta Mountains, and honestly, it’s one of those places that people either absolutely love or find a little too "rugged" for their taste.
I’ve spent a lot of time in the Uintas. There is a specific smell to the air there—a mix of damp pine needles and cold, silty water—that you just don't get in the Wasatch Front.
Smith Morehouse sits at about 7,800 feet. That's high enough to feel the crispness in your lungs but low enough that you aren't constantly gasping for air like you might at Trial Lake. It’s a Forest Service-managed spot, specifically under the Heber-Kamas Ranger District. If you’re looking for a spot where the cell service cuts out exactly three miles before you reach the gate, this is it.
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The Reality of Grabbing a Site at Smith Morehouse Campground Utah
Let’s be real: trying to get a spot here on a Friday afternoon without a reservation is basically a fool’s errand.
The campground has about 34 single sites and a few group sites. Some of these are "first-come, first-served," but they disappear faster than a plate of nachos at a trailhead. I’ve seen people circling the loops at 10:00 AM on a Thursday like vultures. If you want to actually enjoy your weekend, use Recreation.gov and book it six months out. Seriously.
The layout is split into two loops. Some spots are buried deep in the aspen and fir trees, giving you that "lost in the woods" feeling, while others are a bit more exposed. If you’re in a massive RV, be careful. The roads are narrow. While some sites can technically fit a 40-foot rig, maneuvering a trailer through the tight turns of the Smith Morehouse Campground Utah loops can be a nightmare for your transmission and your marriage.
What about the reservoir?
It's a short walk. Or a short drive if you're hauling a bunch of paddleboards. Smith Morehouse Reservoir is the main draw here, and it’s beautiful in a sort of moody, deep-green way. Unlike Jordanelle or Deer Creek, you won't hear the constant whine of jet skis. Motorized boats are limited to "wakeless" speeds. It is quiet. Mostly. You’ll hear the occasional splash of a rainbow trout jumping or the "thwack" of a paddle hitting a plastic hull.
The water is cold. Always. Even in August, when the valley is melting at 100 degrees, the water here feels like it was melted snow just twenty minutes ago. Because it was.
Hiking and Trails You Shouldn't Skip
Most people just sit by the fire. That’s fine. But if you’re at Smith Morehouse Campground Utah and you don't at least walk a portion of the Smith and Morehouse Trail, you're missing the point.
The trail follows the creek up into the Smith and Morehouse Canyon. It’s roughly 12 to 14 miles out and back if you go all the way to the top, but you don't have to. Even the first two miles give you this incredible sense of scale. You’re entering the Smith and Morehouse Wilderness area (part of the larger Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest).
- Wildlife: It is moose country. I cannot stress this enough. I’ve seen more moose near the creek at Smith Morehouse than almost anywhere else in the Uintas. They look like goofy, oversized horses until they start moving toward you. Give them space.
- The Flora: In late July, the wildflowers are aggressive. Indian Paintbrush, Lupine, and Columbine fight for space.
- The Creek: Smith Morehouse Creek runs right by the campground. It’s a blue-ribbon style fishery for those who know how to flick a fly rod under low-hanging branches.
It’s steep. The higher you go, the more the trail punishes you. But the reward is silence. Genuine, deep-woods silence that you can't find near the Mirror Lake Highway anymore because of the crowds.
The "Not-So-Great" Parts Nobody Mentions
I’m not going to sit here and tell you it’s a perfect utopia.
First, the bugs. In June and early July, the mosquitoes at Smith Morehouse Campground Utah are basically the size of small birds. They are relentless. If you don't have DEET or a Thermacell, you will be eaten alive. It gets better by August, but the early season is a battle.
Second, the dust. The access road is gravel. By the time Sunday rolls around and everyone is packing up, there’s a fine layer of gray Uinta silt over everything you own. Your truck, your tent, your dog—everything.
Third, the toilets. They are vault toilets. They are well-maintained by the camp hosts (who are usually lovely retirees living in a fifth-wheel by the entrance), but at the end of the day, it’s still a hole in the ground. If you’re expecting porcelain, you’re in the wrong zip code.
Why This Spot Hits Different
There’s a specific feeling when the sun drops behind the ridges at Smith Morehouse. The temperature doesn't just fall; it plummets. You’ll go from a t-shirt to a heavy hoodie in about fifteen minutes.
That’s when the stars come out.
Because you’re tucked into a canyon, the light pollution from the Wasatch Front is almost entirely blocked out. The Milky Way looks like a smear of spilled milk across the sky. It’s one of the few places within a 90-minute drive of Salt Lake City where you can actually feel the scale of the universe.
People come here to reset.
I talked to a guy once who had been coming to the same site for twenty years. He told me he doesn't even fish anymore. He just sits by the creek and listens to the water. There’s a certain "old Utah" feel to this canyon. It hasn't been over-developed yet. There’s no lodge. There’s no general store selling $8 bundles of wood (actually, the hosts usually sell wood, but you get the point). It’s just you, the trees, and the mountain.
Fishing Logistics
If you’re angling, bring a light setup. The reservoir is stocked with Rainbow trout, but you’ll find Tiger trout and Brookies too. The creek is tighter. You need a short rod and a lot of patience. If you’re used to wide-open casting on the Provo River, the Smith Morehouse Creek will frustrate you. It’s "technical" fishing, which is just a fancy way of saying you’re going to get your line caught in a willow tree at least three times.
Essentials for Your Trip
Don't be the person who shows up unprepared. I've seen it too many times.
- Water: There is potable water at the campground, but the pumps can sometimes be finicky or go down for maintenance. Bring a 5-gallon jug just in case.
- Bear Safety: This is black bear country. Don't leave your bacon grease sitting on the picnic table. The Forest Service is strict about food storage for a reason. Use the lockers if provided or keep your food locked in a hard-sided vehicle.
- Layers: I mentioned the temperature drop. I’ve seen it snow at Smith Morehouse in July. It’s rare, but it happens. Bring a down jacket even if the forecast says it's going to be hot.
- Fire Rules: Check the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest website for fire restrictions before you go. Late summer often brings Stage 1 or Stage 2 restrictions, meaning no campfires. Don't be the person who starts a forest fire because you wanted s'mores.
How to Get There Without Getting Lost
You take I-80 east from Salt Lake, exit at Wanship, and head toward Kamas. But don't go all the way to Kamas. Turn left onto SR-32 toward Oakley. In Oakley, you’ll see a sign for Weber Canyon Road. Follow that east.
The road eventually turns into Smith and Morehouse Road. It’s paved for a while, then turns to well-maintained gravel. If you hit the dam, you’ve gone a tiny bit too far for the main campground, but you’re in the right spot for the day-use area.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
If you’re planning to visit Smith Morehouse Campground Utah this season, start by checking the snowpack levels in May. If it was a heavy winter, the campground might not even open until late June.
- Book your site exactly six months out on Recreation.gov at 8:00 AM MST.
- Pack a paddleboard or kayak. The wakeless water is the best feature of the area.
- Check your spare tire. The gravel road isn't "off-roading," but it’s sharp enough to punish old tires.
- Download your maps offline. Your GPS will stop working long before you see the campground sign.
Smith Morehouse is a place for people who want the mountains to feel like mountains again. It’s not the easiest place to stay, and it’s certainly not the most "Instagrammable" in terms of luxury, but it is authentic. It’s a slice of the Uintas that still feels a little bit wild, a little bit cold, and exactly like what camping should be.
Grab your gear, leave the phone in the glovebox, and actually watch the fire for a while. That's the real reason to go.
Current Status Check: Always verify current fire conditions and road closures via the U.S. Forest Service website before departing, as conditions in the Uintas change rapidly.
Resource Tip: For the best fishing reports, check with local shops in Kamas or Park City before heading up the canyon; they usually have the most recent data on what the fish are biting on at the reservoir.
Next Step: Verify your vehicle's cooling system and brakes. The climb up Weber Canyon toward the Smith Morehouse turn-off is steady, and the descent with a trailer can be taxing on older brake systems. Ensure your equipment is as ready as you are.