Last weekend I hiked Mount Timpanogos with a few friends. We started the hike at midnight in order to get to the top for the sunrise. My incredible friend Emily, who is a mountaineering type of gal, brought along a wee stove, some eggs, bacon, instant oatmeal, and hot cocoa mix so we could enjoy a hot breakfast on the saddle of the mountain.
It was a great hike. We were definitely not alone on our journey. Some youth groups, and several other young adults, had the same idea we did. They were quite exuberant and kept playing Marco Polo along the trail. We wondered if they ever found him.
One thing I enjoyed about the hike was seeing the snaking lines of lights provided by other hikers as they wound up the mountain. We could see where the path went because of those lights, and it reminded me again how we are all in this life together. Humans are blessed to have one another as support systems, as teachers, mentors, friends, comrades who help each other through life. We learn and grow from watching each others' lights.
It was a COLD early morning on the mountain, but the view of twinkled lights in Happy Valley in the dark was worth the sleepless treck up the mountain. The sunrise was also kind on our eyes, but even more kind on our skin, as we were able to finally warm back up.
We chose to hike up to the top from Timpanokee, and continue on down to the bottom of the mountain via Aspen Grove. In order to do that, one must slide down a snow field that is sort of steep. Well, before noon, that snow field is more like an ice field. People make a slide down the middle, and I went down it first becuase I'd already slid down two years ago. That time it was slushy, and I had control over my speed (it was afternoon). This time, the snow field was complete ice, and there was no controlling my velocity as gravity took control and I sped down the hill. Luckily, someone placed speed bumps periodically down the slide. As soon as I hit the first speed bump, I got off that slide and slid down the patch slowly, at a pace I was comfortable with. I did get some battle wounds, that rather look like I got in a fight with a wild cat. :)
After we got down the snow field and climbed over the rocks at the bottom of it, we were pretty beat. We stopped for lunch, and I took a lovely, sun-drenched nap in the small valley below. I was so tired that I neglected to put on sunscreen. Today, I am half-lobster/half-woman. Check out my two-face look!
The hike down was lovely. Aspen Grove is absolutely gorgeous, ridden with wildflowers, berries (including scrumptious raspberries!), aspen trees, and a beautiful waterfall.
At the end I did feel quite battered and crispy, but the trip was worth the scrapes! I am grateful for the scrapes, bruises, blisters, and scars that sometimes come my way, because they are evidence that I have lived, and they are a small sacrifice to make to experience breathtaking vistas and gratitude for life.
Today I was reading the book Only a Few Bones by John Philip Colletta when something caught my eye. He was describing the experience of a family riding on a riverboat in 1873. As the boat neared a landing, the watchman on the boat yelled "Mark Four, Mark Three, Mark Twain...." (p. 211), meaning that he was measuring the depth of the water based on a rope with knots in it. The rope was at knot two, which told them that there were two fathoms of water beneath the boat. The phrase "Mark twain" definitely caught my eye and I wanted to know why Samuel Clements chose that pen name. I knew that riverboats and rivers played large parts in his writings. Still, I was curious to learn a little more about the reasoning behind his choice. 
