It's crazy to think of all the wild and
world wide ideas I had over a year ago when planning and dreaming about how to celebrate our 10 year anniversary. I researched traveling around
the world sleeping in various tree houses or going on a week long Arabian
horse trek in the Sahara desert. There was Armenia or the underwater
hotel off the coast of the Maldives or castle explorations in Ireland
and Scotland. None of them ever felt RIGHT though and that bothered
and perplexed me but I've learned enough now through the years to know that God will help direct me. So for a while we felt good about a
road trip across America, it really hit home the nostalgia of our
dating time together ten years ago. But eventually that didn't feel
right and so we landed on Ireland and began to plan that. It was
exciting but never felt quite
right either.
And
then the pandemic hit and everything closed down and to this day
remains mostly so. No wonder! It's not like I needed some warning or
huge prompting but God is kind enough to also help mentally prepare me for certain things, and He knew I didn't need to
get my heart locked on anywhere but here. And as exciting as all
those destinations were, really the most important thing was just
spending time with Buck.
So
Utah it was.
We
decided to hike to the top of Mt. Timpanogos. It's a fairly large
hike, 15 miles long and up nearly 5,000 feet elevation to the second
tallest mountain peak in Utah. Lots of people do this and it seemed
really epic and also nice and symbolic to how life is like a long
hike up a mountain and how Buck and I are doing it together. (cue
heart eyes) Plus I'd never summited a mountain before so that also
excited me! Then we had a few other plans or ideas for the rest of
the weekend.
Thursday
night we went and spent too much money at the grocery store getting
ready for the big hike. Then we went to a hotel near the canyon and
got ready for the hike some more and then went to bed.
We
woke up at 3:00 am and that was NOT awesome but that's how things are
done so we did it. Then we drove to the trail head and got on the
path by 4:45 am.
We
began hiking up, enveloped in the complete blackness of night, our
head lamps the only real source of light we had. We started the same
time as a few other people and it didn't take long before we were all
in some long game, taking turns passing each other up and taking
small breaks.
Maybe
it was the dark and not being able to see where we were but I had no
idea how far we had already gone and by the time the sun was barely
beginning to wrap around our side of the earth, we were taking our
boots off and tending to new, tender blisters. We got back on the
trail and the earth began to glow with the darkest blues like that of
a deep ocean. We could now make out the bruised mountain walls and
towering pine trees all around us.
And as
we walked and the sun creeped higher still we saw that a smoky haze
surrounded us and it began to illuminate pink and purple,
silhouetting the layers of mountains off in the distance. It was then
we were slowly made aware of just how high up we had already gone.
A
little further still, the mountain came into view and doubt and dread
filled my whole body. The summit of the mountain was still so high up
and HUGE!!! I didn't understand how it was even going to be possible.
But we
went on. Up and up, back and forth through the switch backs. Going
through areas of forest and green and then onto rock slides that
cascaded down from the tippy top all the way to the bottom. The sun
warmed up, but the thinning air remained fresh and crisp. The wild
flowers sprang to life, an applause of colors- red bulbs and berries,
yellow pin wheels, and purple bells dancing in the meadows, on steep
hill sides, and even in the cracks of rocks. My eyes couldn't believe
what they were seeing! Surrounded by a sky scraper city of mountains!
And up and up we went.
We
stopped to take brief breaks. Going up hill isn't the easiest thing
to do but pushing past the physical barriers was what I came to do. I
tried to focus on each moment and not worry about all the walking
ahead. I took in the astonishing beauty. I tried to tell myself
positive thoughts. I sipped the first strands of sunlight that broke
through the smoke. (the smoke, by the way, had traveled far to be
with us, all the way from wildfires in California!) I made brief
jokes to other hikers we passed by. I took photos. Sometimes I
pretended that maybe I was Heidi and had a Swiss cottage just past
the trail with goats waiting to be milked.
But
from the very beginning of the hike I was dizzy, back when we started
in the dark. It wasn't getting better. I wondered if it was the
altitude or if I was drinking enough water. But whatever it was, it
was the beginning of my problems.
The
higher we got, the more dizzy I got and before I knew it I was
feeling all turned around and upside down. The path got narrow and
there was nothing but steep drop offs to the one side of me and on
the other hard walls of rocks with sharp hands that seemed like they
were trying to push me off the trail and down the cliff. The ground
below seemed like it was going backwards and each rock was shaking.
We passed through a narrow spot and I was so scared! I was clinging
to fragile plants and speaking out loud to myself, “You're fine,
you're fine, you are not going to fall.” I tried putting up one
hand to the side of my eyes to block my vision from seeing the drop
offs below me. I was shaking and practically passing certain points
on my hands and knees.
When a
rare opening of grass arrived we decided to take a break and eat some
lunch, over looking huge cliffs and an seemingly endless layered cake
of mountain peaks. Buck had also been struggling with his pancreas
stuff a little bit and so he said, “I have a feeling we wont make
it to the summit.” Even then I thought he was totally wrong and
told him so. We came to summit! We were going to do that, there was
no reason not to!
But as
we got back on our feet the trail became even more treacherous and my
panic grew and grew. I stopped, braced myself against some rocks as
far away from the swirling vortex below me as I could, and said a
prayer telling God what I was feeling and experiencing and asked for
help to keep going but also asked for the spirit to help me make the
safest decisions as well.
I
looked up to the ridge, the beginning of the saddle. Buck told me
that if we made it to that we would be at the top at least to be able
to see on the other side and look down on the whole valley, the same
view as the summit.
It
wasn't very far so we did it. I crawled up there, so confused why
everyone else around me seemed so balanced and fine! People were up
there sitting on high boulders right on the edge, eating their food
like it was nothing to be teetering there like flimsy leaves! I sat
down on the middle of the platform, as far away from either edge as I
could be. The white, smokey valley came into view and it felt like I
was seeing it from an airplane, it was so far down there. And to my
horror I could now see the path of “the saddle,” the last mile to
the summit, and it was a but a thin strand of silver necklace laid
down winding on the straight drop off of rocky mountain side; a
skinny trail of pure loose rocks that blended into the rock slide
that would take only one slip of your step to send one down to their
death 11,000 feet below.
I was
paralyzed. Everyone around me seemed so unstable now and I couldn't
even look at anyone or anything. Everyone was going to fall! Buck was
going to swing my camera off the cliff! That dog without a leash was
surely going to die. Buck told me to close my eyes and feel the
steady rock beneath me that I was sitting on and to focus on how
nothing was moving. Wrong, everything was still spinning.
“Come
on, let's do it. Let's summit.” Buck tried to encourage me. But
there was absolutely NO WAY I was going to survive that hike any
further. I didn't even know how I was going to get my stiff legs to
move to get me back down the trail, let alone make them continue up
the most dangerous and death defying part of the hike. All I could
envision happening, were I to attempt that, was eventually I would be
curling up into a petrified ball and Buck and surrounding strangers
having to somehow carry me back down. I knew with complete confidence
that it was not a safe or wise choice for me to continue on in the
state I was in.
So
back down we went, me gripping tightly Buck's hand as he helped lead
the way. I think I squeezed his hand harder than when I was in labor.
Haha. But slowly, slowly we made our way down and I felt like I could
breathe again and I started to enjoy the views again. We found
ourselves completely alone on the trail most of the time, which felt
so cleansing and sacred. We came upon a huge, old mountain goat too!
And he moseyed over right by us, close enough that we could nearly
touch his white, weathered fur. The sun was warm and bright.
We
finally got to the last part of the hike, the part we had first
walked up in the dark. I recognized a few places, a rock wall we had
rested by, a few creek beds we walked through. I marveled at the drop
offs I didn't know were there at certain parts. We went through a
thick grove of tall, white aspen trees. The trail was now dusty,
brown dirt. It felt like we should be about back to car and yet there
was no end in sight. The end of any long journey often feels this
way- endless, hopeless. It's during this final stretch that I
promised myself never to go hiking again and I start to wondered if
we took a wrong turn somewhere. Buck said he knew that
we were nearly to the parking lot but then we still went another mile
or so. When I did finally see those cars shining in the sun like
jewels, heavenly metal just waiting to take in our weary bodies and
offer us a nice leather seat to collapse into, I about broke into a
run. Haha
And
collapse we did! The air conditioning like angels fanning us with
palm leaves.
In all
we hiked 13 miles and it took seven hours. It's odd to think that
I've hiked even bigger, longer, and more dangerous and harrowing
hikes before. How did I do those? This felt like such a big feat. On
the drive out the canyon I researched vertigo and came to learn what
I think I knew deep down already- it wasn't pure vertigo, it was an
extreme fear of heights that induced panic that felt like vertigo. It
was just so strange though because, like I said, I've done even more
high and dangerous hikes before, I've waltzed across suspension
bridges, para-sailed, and even went on a trapeze, zip line and ropes
course!
I
suppose I'm getting more fearful in my old age. They also say that a
woman biologically changes after giving birth, causing her to be more
cautious. Also, despite the things I've done, I've never been a super
daring person, and I can't say that I LOVED heights to begin with.
But before they were kind of an exciting challenge but now they seem
to be nothing but horrific.
We
went into Midway and checked into our hotel, decompressed a little
bit, and then took a two hour nap.
Our cute cottage we stayed in.
We then woke up in time for our
scheduled soak at the Midway crater. It's a natural made crater
filled with clear sapphire and emerald mineral waters that are always
about 95 degrees warm. It was the perfect way to relax and heal our
tired muscles a bit. The crater also had a group of people learning
to scuba dive, another couple, a family, and a grandma who stay by
the dock who appeared to be watching us.
After
that we went back and showered and got ready and went to eat dinner
at a nice restaurant in town. We enjoyed eating on the patio while a
singer and her mellow guitar nestled the sun to sleep.
We
went to bed kind of early and woke up feeling much better. Part two coming next!
