Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Peeing on rocks creates a splash zone

My work is doing an exercise contest -- basically, whoever logs the most minutes wins a good-sized gift card. Last time I checked, we were winning.

This has caused me no end of angst.

We're winning, you see, because the three dirtbags on my team go hiking and rock climbing the way I watch TV -- sure, I've got some time to relax, why not? So they log hundreds of minutes on a regular basis like it's nothing. I, who went into this feeling pretty confident because I work out every day, am the weakest link.

So two weeks ago when they all climbed a mountain, I realized it was time to step up -- literally. That is what resulted in me sitting on the Mt. Timpanogos summit at 3:30 in the morning, waiting for the sky to get lighter so I could keep going safely and listening to this group talk about Harry Potter, bringing up a fire pit and a flat screen and photobomb stalking a hottie until she gets accustomed to you and agrees to marry you. I later heard a conversation among this same group on whether they would collect the carcasses of their friends if they fell down a cliff. The general feeling was no.

The hike was something of an adventure. I've done it a couple of times before with a group. The hike up took 5-6 hours both times, so while I anticipated moving a little bit more quickly, I still figured it would take me close to five hours, so I left with plenty of time, and I booked it up.

I was at the saddle in three hours. Three. Hours. I was actually kind of mad at myself. I missed all of those exercise minutes! And it was cold. I mean, really cold. I ended up cuddling with the rock, trying to stay out of the wind. After an hour of uncontrollable shaking and listening to what I'm pretty sure were bats flying around me, I started up to the top. And it was hard. It is really steep, it's all rockslide, it was still quite dark and it was cold. Fortunately, I found a nice soft spot at the top, arranged myself in such a way that I would have to do some serious sleep acrobatics to fall off the mountain, leaned my backpack against the rock and dozed off.

The trip down was uneventful, except I picked up a 13-year-old girl with about half an hour to go. I passed her, wished her good luck and then she stuck right behind me and talked the rest of the way down. She asked if I was married ("Ahh" -- even 13-year-olds pity me!), asked if I was dating, then asked if I wanted to be dating. We talked about girls camp and her anxiety. She refused to be gotten rid of.

Also, I may have gotten another party lost. When I arrived I started down the path I thought was correct; they were right behind me and took the same path. I kept walking, but the trail didn't look familiar and didn't seem to be heading in the right direction. After 10 minutes, I turned around. They were sure it was the right path. I went back to check. It was not the right path. Hopefully they figured that out sooner rather than later.

Moon over my county

I had a LOT of time to sit at the top and take artsy pictures.

Sunrise! It was beautiful -- mostly because it meant I could start back down and be that much closer to my bed.


P.S. No one tell my mom I go hiking by myself in the Utah wilderness in the middle of the night.

2 comments:

  1. Too late. Your sister clued me in and neither of us think it's your brightest idea. But you are awesome. And i hope you guys win the contest.

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