We started on the trail about an hour before needing to strap headlamps to our foreheads. It was 10 p.m. and all I could see were shadows. We were just little specks crawling through what I knew was a colorful meadow between robust mountains, but I couldn't see any of it. In that hour I found my pace, and my body got used to the occasional burning inflicted on my muscles by the steepening grades. My pack's weight rested squarely on my hips, even digging in a little. Dalton, my husband, and Tyler, my brother, also carried; I carried food, Dalton carried the tent and Tyler carried a blanket and extra items. We didn't take much because we would only be out less than 24 hours, but people on the hike still told us we were nuts to carry anything more than snacks and water. I figured there would be plenty of water along the way to filter and refill my water bottle. I was wrong. We passed all the water at the beginning, but luckily about two hours in I found a small spring of water coming up between rocks on the path. It was so small the only way I could scoop water into my bottle was by using the cap as a cup. I shined the light on my bottle to view the murky liquid, but to my surprise it was completely transparent, or so I thought. Of course, I shook it up with an iodine tablet. Dalton tried it and said he dry heaved. I thought it tasted like a mountain--simply delicious.
The rest of the hike was much the same until we reached a valley where we pitched our tent right on top of the wildflowers. Considering I slept on my yoga mat, I was grateful for the extra padding against rocks. We slept from 12:30-4:30 a.m., ate peanut butter sandwiches and continued, all the while passing other hikers with headlamps and listening to the coyotes' cries. Slowly, it became light again, and I saw a sliver of pink orb peeking above the mountain one hundred miles behind me. When the sun spat its colors out over that mountain I was on the ridge taking photos--this is where you pause a moment before taking on the last leg of the hike. We took photo after photo in every direction: pictures of the sunset, of Utah Lake, of Heber Valley and the lingering July snow. Before long we were on our way to the very top. The difficult of the hike only increased from here. Loose rocks were everywhere, and every step seemed to be an increasingly steep stair. With our packs, every impossible switchback seemed even more impossible. Then I saw a 10-year-old boy and a mildly crippled male about my age coming back down the hill, and I decided it was all in my head. Dalton was hiking in his old Jordan basketball shoes and by this time his feet were screaming. His ankles were weakening by the minute. Luckily, he brought his ankle braces.
Yeah, we made it to the top. Did you ever doubt we would? I signed our name in the book at the top, looking all around as if I were the only person who ever accomplished this feat. Then heard a 71-year-old man say he hiked this four times per week. If you want to be a grandpa with buns of steel, this is how you do it. I had a moment standing on that peak. It was one of those moments when your lungs and mind feel clearer than they ever have. You feel real and present in this world that was created for you. I was reluctant to climb down because I reached the top and why would I want to go lower when I worked hard to be higher? Well, I did finally start heading back down, egging on my shaking knees. Once we reached the ridge again I realized the rest of this journey would be entirely different than it was coming up.
I spent the majority of our descend contemplating the symbolism all around me. I turned my headlight on at the beginning, and I thought about how I learned the gospel early in life and how it is the only thing leading the way. I thought about all the headlamps I said before me, who gave me a clearer idea of where I would end up, and I call these people my examples. Then I thought about how the hike only became more difficult until I had that final moment of victory. And when I reached that moment of victory, everything was made clear unto me. I could see for miles and miles all around. I understood where I came from and the challenges I faced. I understood how those challenges were the only way. While I considered all of these things I walked through fields of wildflowers patched with indigo, fuchsia, cream and rich yellow. The colors were more alive than I've ever seen them, like each one was new and feeding off the morning.
I was robotic most of the way back to the car. My legs just kept going and going and going, and I'm not even sure what I was thinking about. By the time we reached the car the skin on my feet felt like it was on fire. I was hot all over and my hands were swollen from poor circulation. Needless to say, Dalton and I spent the rest of the day in our living room watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
Of course, a trek like this truly works up an appetite, so here is a really cheap, filling recipe I whip up to feed hollow stomachs. My husband swoons over biscuits and gravy, so this is my rendition:
Biscuits:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine
3/4 cup milk
Gravy:
1 lb. ground sausage
2 cups frozen peas
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
3 cups milk
garlic salt and pepper to taste
Begin by preheating the oven to 425 degrees to bake the biscuits. Soften the butter in a mixing bowl, then mix all remaining ingredients together. Portion the mix into six large biscuits and bake for 8-10 minutes. They will look underdone, but that is how it should be!
As the biscuits are baking, brown the ground pork. Melt the butter for the gravy in another pan. When the butter has melted, add the flour so that the mixture forms a butter paste. Add milk to the butter and flour, whisking until the butter mixture dissolves in the milk. Add garlic salt and pepper to taste. Let the gravy reach a boil and continue boiling for 2-3 minutes.
Don't forget about the biscuits! Take them out and let them rest while finishing the gravy. By this time the pork should be fully cooked. Pour the gravy into the pan with the ground pork and add the peas. If you prefer to not add a vegetable, that's OK too. The heat will defrost the peas and cool down (thicken) the gravy. When the peas are thawed, pour the gravy in a 9x9-inch casserole dish. Place the biscuits on top. We like to sprinkle the top with cheese!
Place the dish back in the oven for 5-10 minutes, just enough for the biscuits to get slightly brown and the cheese to melt.
We parked it at Deer Creek Island Resort where they rent all different kind of boats, canoes, paddle boards, tubes, jet skis, wakeboards, and so on. We had every intention to try our luck at paddleboarding, but when our blanket wouldn't stay put on the rocky beach due to wind, we figured we may spend more time falling in the water than standing up on those boards. We settled for kayaking--one of my very favorite things to do. Let me tell you something about kayaking in strong winds: it's hard. I felt like we were trying to swim up a waterfall--not to mention how dry my eyes were since they were getting blasted by dry air. I think my contacts nearly shriveled up, so I paddled with squinted eyes. Luckily, we hardly needed to paddle back to shore. The wind took us in. 
