beautiful hike to Dog Lake in Big Cottonwood Canyon

I really needed to be alone with God today, and going on a quiet hike usually helps.  When I’m not concentrating on my footing, my panting, or my impending death by rattlesnakes, I can pray.  That’s what I did tonight, for a two-hour hike to Dog Lake.  I got the idea from my friend’s blog post about it.

Won't you be my, won't you be my, won't you be my neighbor?

Gee golly, what's that dark thing moving in the brush?

So I go all the way to Alaska to see a moose, and I fail. Then when I'm not looking for one I find one in my backyard. Hi, moose.

Here’s a video of the most adventurous part of the hike:

I love aspens.

Sometimes the woods smelled like apples!

Dog Lake

I basically have four legs now. See my shadow? I will never again hike without these poles. The other day my hiking buddy saw me carrying them instead of using them, and he said, "See? They just get in the way." NO! NO THEY DON'T! YOU get in the way! I carry them when the path is really narrow or level. Otherwise I put them to good use. They are so helpful for support, and they put an extra spring in my step. One of the most thoughtful and helpful presents I've ever received.

I'll have to admit, even though I hate when people scratch their names into tree bark, I did find this etching to be sweet.

On my way home.

A couple times on this hike, I thought, “I really miss my dad.”  I think he crossed my mind for several reasons.  First, I just thought he would find the hike very enjoyable and beautiful.  Second, there were patches of the trail where the surrounding green foliage smelled like the kind we passed on walks in Marietta, where we used to live.  Third, I thought he would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing a moose.  Fourth, he could’ve protected me from said moose.  Fifth, my friend got married today, and as I thought about their ceremony while I hiked, I also thought about how it was a bittersweet celebration for her…because although she is only a few years older than I am, her dad is no longer living.  He died of ALS a few years ago—probably when she was my age.  So her dad did not get to walk her down the aisle at her wedding.  That made me thankful that I can miss my dad, but not forever, because I’ll get to see him again in a few months.  And I hope he’ll still be around to walk me down the aisle when I can finally make enough money to bribe someone into marrying me.

One final reason I thought of Dad on this hike is because I met a Brittany Spaniel dog down at Dog Lake (which lived up to its name, as five different dogs dove in the water to chase a stick).  I asked what the dog’s name was, and the owner said, “Jessie.”
“Really?  We used to have a Brittany named Jessie!”
“Her middle name is Jane: Jessie Jane.”
“Ours was Jessie Jenn!”
I remember picking Jessie out with my dad, and naming her together.  What are the chances?

All in all, it was a joyous, peaceful, exhilarating, fun hike.  I hope we will be good stewards of this precious earth God gave us.  I want all future generations of people to enjoy this nature I get to enjoy.

I know every bird in the mountains, and the creatures of the field are mine. —Psalm 50:11

Let the rivers clap their hands,
Let the mountains sing together for joy;
let them sing before the LORD —Psalm 98:8-9a

hike to Twin Lakes in Big Cottonwood Canyon

That water was cold.  It made my feet hurt.

hike almost to Grandeur Peak

Heather and I joined a hiking group from Mt. Olympus Presbyterian and went up Millcreek Canyon to the Grandeur Peak trail.  We could’ve gone to the top, but our leader had to leave at a certain time, so we turned around maybe 30-45 minutes from the top.  We weren’t disappointed.  It was a lovely, secluded hike.  About 2.5 hours round trip.  We enjoyed chatting with the church members.  We’re planning to go with the group on their Sunday afternoon hikes as well.

One of the church members let Heather use a walking stick he owned. He said she could keep it over the summer. Look how happy it makes her.

I think that's the peak in the background. Since we didn't reach the top, we talked about returning and doing the whole trail. But we have a LOT of different trails we should check out while she's here.

Heather spotted a rainbow. Can you?

The hiking poles worked GREAT. I figured them out this time. Thank you, Spencer. They are a lifesaver.

If you squint as hard as I'm squinting, you can see my biceps.

Heather has been quite the little adventurer. She is not afraid to step outside her comfort zone and challenge herself---or if she is afraid, she chooses to push ahead anyway. She is willing to try new things. I think her outlook about moving out here for the summer has been the best attitude to have.

hike at sunset

Heather and I are dogsitting a dog named Tucker, an Alaskan Siberian husky.  We took her for a hike at sunset tonight.  We laughed a lot, which made it hard to have enough breath to get up the hill.  Heather fell a couple times and we almost peed our pants.

The mountains turn red and purple as dusk descends.

Tucker is a pretty low-maintenance dog. Hiking with her is a challenge because she doesn't pull me up the hill. (I end up pushing on her butt.) But on the way down she hurries and pulls me too fast.

It's a good thing we got a little lost, because we timed it perfectly to reach the top of a ridge at sunset.

Heather is hoping no one will notice the water splotches on her shirt.

Check out my sweet backpack and hiking boots. Just the right amount of hiking gear can really enhance the experience. Spencer might be wondering why I'm not using the hiking poles he got me. Well, I tried. I couldn't get them to lock in place. They kept changing length. I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time.

See? So confused.

Just a couple of kittens, out on the town.

I am having a lot of fun with my sister.

I’m too busy having fun to blog about the fun I’m having.

My best friend Heather is living with me for ten weeks this summer, working in the same food pantry where I work part of the week (the other part spent upstairs in my office).  That’s why I haven’t posted in awhile.  She and I have been too busy going on walks around Liberty Park, almost getting hit by lightning in a rainstorm, watching cheesy reruns of Dawson’s Creek, eating homemade fruit juice popsicles, and laughing.

Here she is at her first staff meeting:

She doesn't like dogs. So she's doing her best to tolerate Little Dog's sprawled-out presence on the same couch. I thought for sure she would like Little, because he is mellow and not as lick-y as other dogs. But just his breathing on her annoys her.

Here we are having too much fun in front of the free shelf of skillet dinners:

Clients are allowed four free items per household. We're really trying to get rid of these skillet dinners. You can't tell, but off-camera and off the shelf there are several columns of stacked boxes of these skillet dinners. For some reason we find this abundance really funny.

I like having Heather as a roommate because she is clean, considerate, low-maintenance, and really funny.  Of course, we’re still in the honeymoon stage.

Crossroads and I are on TV

The news people must be learning, because now they don’t give me a speaking role.  Click here for the latest coverage of Crossroads.

from the midwest back to the desert

My three brothers, two parents, and one doggie were finally reunited after almost a year apart.  I was also reunited with Ohio, my home state, the place in which I’ve spent 95.4% of my life.  Blessings from the trip:

The family bonding, including laughing hysterically during a game of Loaded Questions.

Dad spilled pop on his shirt.

Jonathan and Sherry, who got engaged in April

Charles and Liz, who got engaged in May

Bonding with my college gal pals, talking about boys and toasting to “here’s to never having babies.”

Cuddling with the true love of my life.

Eating delicious food:

My signature Panera bread meal. There are no Panera Breads in Utah.

s'mores!

Sherry made a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake with an Oreo crust. Yep.

Raspberry sauce dribbled on top, with a flourish of whipped cream.

We're pretty glad Jon's marrying her.

Feeling like Ohio was my home, but Utah is my home, and I’m glad to be here. I thought I would be so emotional, returning to this state that holds so many memories.  I worried I would dread the return to Utah.  Not so.

Ohio has much to offer. Cornfields, rich green leaves, brilliant sunsets, woods, and more diversity of people/ideas than you might find out here. It holds my brothers and my memories. But I am here -- elsewhere -- for a reason. I wonder where I'll go next....

Little Black Mountain — a part of me lived…and then died

Last week I posted about attempting to hike Little Black Mountain alone.  Now, with my visiting parents in tow, I didn’t just attempt—I succeeded.  I don’t think I could have done it without them.  I needed them to force us to stop and take frequent breaks, so we’d have enough energy to carry on.  I needed our mutual encouragement about pushing ahead.  I’m sure I would’ve given up if I had been alone.  It was wishful thinking to claim that, last week, I was a mere 45 minutes from the summit.  Bah!  That summit is no joke.  It took us three hours to ascend, then two hours to descend.  That includes all our breaks for snacking, drinking water, resting, and taking care of other unmentionable bodily needs.

Come on, Mom, you can do it.

Will this be the summit?

Will this be the summit?

Will this be the summit?

Nooooooooooo!  A false summit!  Blast!  Foiled again!  The web guide to this hike warned that there’d be a false summit.  I’d say there were like four false summits.  Mom tried to get us to claim that certain spots were the summit, so we could turn around sooner.  We pressed on.

Will this be the summit?

A horny toad!  Or a horned toad.  Hey, what you do in your own time….

Will this be the summit?

Here’s Dad approaching the summit.  Since I’m looking down on him, that means I’m on the summit!

 

Wait…what if that’s the summit?  That pointy peak to the right, covered in evergreen trees?  No, fortunately we had a little geological marker telling us that we need go no further.

9.6 miles round-trip, about 3,000 feet in elevation gain.  The summit was about 8,000 feet above sea level.

Part of the summit experience was marred by my dread of going downhill.  Your knees really take a pounding when you descend 3,000 feet.  As Dad put it, “Uphill is tiring, but downhill is painful.”

See more pictures in my mom’s blog post.  I included a few more shots from our descent, and from the beautiful blooming May flowers.

Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I’ve finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

I was so pooped I wanted to fall asleep while eating my dinner.  I could’ve gone to bed at 6 and slept for 12 hours.  I barely had the energy to type this blog post for you.  But a great day like this deserves to be documented.

Zion National Park and Kolob Canyons

On Monday my parents flew here from Alaska for a six-day visit, their first time “outside” in almost a year.  Yesterday we set out for Zion National Park, about a five-hour drive from my apartment.  It would be my second visit, their first.

Here I am modeling the extremely hip and practical backpack my brother Jon got me for Christmas.  It is a Kelty, with supportive straps for your waist and chest.  The apparently floating gray square to the left of my head is a sign saying not to cross that line or you’ll fall off a cliff.

This may be the Upper Emerald Pool along the Emerald Pools trail.  The total elevation gain for hiking to the three Emerald Pools is 400 feet…quite doable.

Today we drove 45 minutes to the north end of Zion National Park: Kolob Canyons.  This felt much more adventurous, as none of us had attempted it before.  Dad suggested Taylor Creek Trail, which was defined as a moderate, four-hour round-trip excursion, with only 480 feet in elevation gain.  The dotted line below indicates the path through the canyon:

We kept a pretty steady pace, but also rested and ate snacks.  Our menu throughout the two hikes included: chocolate chip granola bars, apples, bananas, oranges, Goldfish crackers, cashews, Wheat Thins, chocolate chip cookies, and lots of water.  And for dessert, ice cream.

Here I am practicing for my crucifixion.

Comfort, comfort ye my people.

Red rock.  Green tree.  Blue sky.

Shady path.

We thought the trail ended here, at Double Arches Alcove.  Apparently it continued on a bit more, to a nice picnic spot.  We realized our mistake about four hours into the drive home.  I suggested we turn around and finish what we started.

Carved into the moist sand in this little cavern was someone’s love note:

So much for Leave No Trace Behind ethics.

We experimented with the camera’s flash for this shot.  It almost looks like we photoshopped ourselves into this picture, but no, the background really was there and really was that gorgeous.

This was inside the alcove.  We thought the red part looked like Florida, and underneath Florida’s panhandle was Jesus’ face.

Look at the green slope at the top of this rock cliff.  What a beautiful hike.  So many contrasting colors and shadows along this trail.  I liked having to hop back and forth across the creekbed.  The water was the perfect depth—not so deep our feet got soaked, but full enough to bubble down and coat the rocks.  A lot of the trail was made of dirt, but a significant portion was also covered in orange sand.  We smelled sage bushes and dust.  We saw dozens of little lizards.  We heard crows’ calls echo through the canyon.  I realized as we were walking along that I hadn’t thought about God very much during this trip…very much lately at all…and I felt I should have.  I want to truly appreciate the creation by staying in communion with the Creator.

I also want to take care of this creation so future generations can continue to enjoy it!  A trail like today’s would make an environmentalist out of anybody.

I’m so glad my parents are active and healthy and we are all able to go on hikes like these.

Little Black Mountain — a part of me died

From the Terrace Hills Drive trailhead, I set out for Little Black Mountain.  I’ve been looking forward to this all day.  I have my water bottle, my blanket-in-a-box, my emergency Cheerios, my flashlight, and my camera.  I think of the hordes of blog readers who will be interested in my adventure.  I decide, for their sake, to photograph how my view of the mountain changes as I get closer to it.

There she is, in the center of the photo.  What a great hike this will be.  Totally worth leaving work early for.

So close, and yet so far.

She will be mine.  Oh yes.  She will be mine.

Jeez, how long is this freakin’ trail.  I look longingly behind me, wanting nothing more than to go home and watch Family Guy while eating a turkey sandwich.  But I’ve gone this far—I must press on.  The journey is just so much longer than I expected, and every time I think I’m close, there’s another winding section to traverse.  (I try to think of some parallel to our walk with God…but I come up with nothing.  The only parallel I can think of is how you have those eye floaters, and you can never quite catch them…they’re always one step ahead of you.)

The wind picks up.  It whips around with ferocity.  My mouth is open with my heavy breathing, and the wind swirls inside, actually whistling as though my head is a cave.  I call my best friend.  “If you don’t get another phone call from me by 11 p.m. your time…leave a comment on my mom or dad’s blog to let them know I’m stranded on Little Black Mountain.”  She practices what she will write (”Dear Mrs. Martindell…”).  I tell her that’s exactly what I have in mind, and we say good-bye.

I feel so very very alone.

Till suddenly….

I’m not alone.

Look closer.

Look closer.

For the sake of my young readers, I’ll just say that my words at that moment were something along the lines of “Holy shoot what the heck is that!!!!!  Holy shoot!  Holy shoot!”

Is that, or is that not, a raving mountain lion that’s about to leap over the valley between us and tear me to shreds and feast on my innards?  (I can just hear my critics now: “It’s not a mountain lion, it’s a fox!  Or a goat.”)  At any rate, I turn around and leave.  I do not continue to the summit of Little Black Mountain.  Call me a coward.  It just isn’t worth it to me.  I’ll go back next week, when my parents are visiting—they can protect me.

I don’t know why we humans are so afraid of nature.  We think all animals are out to eat us.  It’s probably because we never venture out into the wild.  We’re afraid of what we don’t know.  Perhaps it’s unfair to assume that this ferocious cougar would bound across the hill and come attack me.  We stand there watching each other for awhile.  We are both frozen.  I’m almost positive it is some big cat…not a fox/goat/deer.  But who knows.  The above picture is the most I could zoom in.  I stand there taking several shots, despite the certain untimely death.  You’re welcome.

So, no Little Black Mountain for Sarah.  But I did check out the Avenues Twin Peaks, and I hope Mom and Dad will hike up there with me next week.  They are not as long of a hike as Little Black Mountain (which, had I continued, would have put me at probably 3.5 hours round-trip):

That’s Mt. Olympus in the background (in front of the snow-capped mountains).  Mt. Olympus just might be my favorite.

For the record, I was not as scared of the mountain lion as I could have been.  If it was closer, yeah, I would’ve crapped myself.  But it wasn’t like the time I got in a car accident—that’s when I really did think I could die.  This time was merely startling…but ominous.

Here were some pretty wildflowers along the hike:

I am thoroughly, utterly tired.

*GASP* I BET IT WAS A COYOTE!!