to the top

We had it planned for months, Jeremy, my dad and I. We looked forward to it all summer, anticipated it, and prepared for it.

September 2nd was the day we'd climb to the top. My dad had done it once before, Jeremy and I had never. That morning came, we rose early (ish) and drove to the trail head. Within the first mile I was wondering if I'd make it, but by the second mile I felt great. Time and time again I received another wind--another burst of energy. I think it probably took 30 of them to get me from top to bottom.

In the basin, with the peak behind us

It was fun on the way up. Strenuous only in parts, and the anticipation of the top of Mt. Timpanogos kept us moving forward and lighthearted. The weather couldn't have been more perfect--cloudy and cool until the afternoon when the sun finally came out. We saw a few moose, but not enough mountain goats. We made it to the saddle, with 400 feet elevation gain left to climb to the peak. From the saddle to the peak was by far the hardest part, but when you're that close you can't quit (even though we saw a large group of people who did). 5 hours and 10 minutes after we started we were at the peak and the view was spectacular (even if it was hazy)!


First order of business--eat lunch.
Second--rest my back.


When I laid down here I don't think I realized how close to the edge I was, so when I sat up after a few minutes and saw this:


I panicked a little.

Jeremy, me, my dad at the top

After resting awhile we headed back down, which is a whole other challenge. Jeremy wanted to slide down the snowfield, and I didn't. But I also didn't want to hear for the rest of my life, "I would have slid down that if it weren't for Lisa". So we did, only there wasn't enough snow to slide down the first part, so we kind of skied down the rocks. Then Jeremy slid down, while my dad and I intended to slowly walk down. However I slipped, and ended up sliding down much of the way, and eventually my dad did too. Here's a tip if you are going to do that: take gloves and a big stick for control. I found a stick as I was sliding down so I grabbed it and stuck it in the snow to slow myself down and then I enjoyed it a whole lot more (I guess I have control issues). And oh boy were our butts cold!

The hike down took longer than I thought it would and by about the eighth hour of the whole experience I was ready to be done, but I still had two or three more hours ahead of me. At that point I had developed four blisters and my big toes had turned white, I think from being shoved to the front of my boot for all the downhill part. My dad was excited about my blisters though because it meant he got to use his 1st aid kit! So there's the positive!

Overall I'm glad I did it, and give me a week and I'd probably say I'd do it again someday, but I can't say that today--I'm still living with the side effects. The day after the hike I did absolutely nothing (nothing more than I had to anyway) because it was beyond painful to move my legs. My calves felt balled up, my knees were sore, my quads were tight, I still had blisters, and the bottom of my feet were very tender The day after that it was still painful to move and I was just super super grouchy (though that may have been for other reasons). And today, the third day after the hike it finally doesn't hurt to move my legs too much, but now I have to play catch up for all the things I didn't do the last three days.

Now Jeremy's talking about hiking to King's Peak, to which I said, "I'll sit that one out thank you very much".