Our First aTIMPt

After looking up at Mount Timpanogos for my whole life, I finally climbed it and made it to the top, and…it was fantastic.

I spent my whole life thinking it would be too hard for ME to climb. Most of my brothers have climbed it many times. I am sure I had an opportunity to climb it, but never took it.

My newest hobby is to sign up/pay for/commit to doing things I think that I am not capable of and then find a way/make preparations to do them anyway. So far it has worked out very well and my life had taken a much more entertaining/satisfying turn.

So on January 1, 2011 Steve and I sat down and made a list of all the things we were going to do this year and a calendar of when we were planning to do them. Climb Timpanogos was the last thing on the list, also the most difficult (I mean really not that difficult, anyone can put one foot in front of the other until you get to the top, then turn around and do the same until you get back to the car). The list consisted of things like…a 65 mile Bike Race, 100 mile bike race, Triathlon, a series of hikes, and then...Timp.

Well, we actually DID do all those things and felt great about it. See, naturally I am a very lazy unmotivated person, who spent the first thirty years of my life avoiding all the things that seemed scary or hard to me. I have discovered that when I do things like this I feel good. Then I get a little bit of momentum and want to do more, and more. As long as I keep doing stuff and keep up the momentum, I am super satisfied with my life. When I slow down, I have less fun and get bored and sad.

Anyway…we looked forward to this climbing trip for months and months. I stared up at this mountain for so long and visualized what it might be like to scurry along the rocky ridges. I wondered what the rock lines along the top would look like up close. I wondered what the view would be like from the top. I had always heard about the old metal "shack" on top at the peak. I wanted to be inside the shack.

As the date got closer we started hiking more and more. I found it to be very enjoyable. When I was a teenager I hiked some at girls camp and even recreationally a few times, but I never understood why people enjoyed it. It was always super hot and my legs and lungs just burned the whole time. It was not fun for me.

This time around I guess I am in better shape because I never felt the burning in my legs or lungs and we usually avoided the hot times of day. So generally, hiking has been much more enjoyable (except when I saw snakes).

The few days before this hike I was SO excited. It felt like I was going to Disneyland! I was that excited. I had such a good time buying snacks to eat and packing my backpack.

As usual, the afternoon/evening before I got the worries and lost my appetite and started feeling sick. This happens each and every time I attempt to do something awesome.

We dropped the kids off at Grandma Karen’s for a fun sleepover and headed back home to be in bed my 8:00p.m. We both swallowed an Ambien at 7:30 p.m. and were more or less asleep by 9:00 p.m.

We woke up ready to go at 3:30 a.m. took a quick shower and headed toward Kohler’s grocery store located near the mouth of American Fork Canyon where we were meeting the rest of the climbing party which consisted of us, my brothers Ryan and Scott, our friend I grew up with Dan and The.Davies. A cop stopped to talk to us in the dark parking lot. He asked if we were hiking to the Y. I guess he is used to BYU students and got mixed up. We all got a good laugh. BYU has a lot of over-age students, especially on the football team. But seriously. . . If a cop ever asks you why you are loitering in a dark parking lot, tell them that you are assembling for a hike.

We planned to be on the trail at 5:00a.m. The early start was mainly related to getting a parking spot at the trail head. This is one of Utah’s most popular hiking destinations and from what I hear it’s required curriculum if you are a BYU student. We really hoped that at 5:00a.m. we’d be early enough to get a spot. It seemed ludicrous that anyone would be on the trail before that.

We all piled into our adventure Odyssey and headed up the canyon. We didn’t see many other cars along the highway so we sort of assumed we’d be some of the only people up there. We took bets on how many cars would be in the lot when we got there. Some said five, some said 15. The lot probably only held 70-80 cars. We turned the corner into the pitch black parking lot and found it to be FULL of reflective car lights. Every spot was full. All of them. Not a spot left to be had. Seriously?!! We were hoping that it was late enough in the year and that everyone had lost interest in hiking. Nope.

Steve dropped of our group and went with my brother Ryan to find a spot to park in down the canyon. We waited for them for about 15 minutes in the freezing cold. Luckily they found a spot only .4 miles away from the lot.


Once we were all together again, we suited up with our headlamps, hit the pit stop, paused for a photo and set off up the pitch black trail. There was only star light and a crescent moon.

I wondered what it would be like hiking in darkness.

I was afraid it would be confusing and dangerous. In actuality it was a real kick!
It turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the whole adventure. In fact as the dawn broke, I was disappointed that it was over.




It was so awesome to be part of the breaking dawn. I guess I have never done this before. We started to notice a little bit of “not darkness” just in the corner of the mountain horizon.





Every minute after that the darkness faded ever so slowly, yet steadily until we no longer needed the lamps.

We had been hiking in total darkness, only hearing the water around us. When the light came and illuminated what we had not yet seen, the world around us, it was simply breath taking. The deep mountain scenery was marvelous.
You really have to see it to believe its beauty and splendor.


The light increased and finally the sun started to move on the tops of the mountains we were climbing around on. At one point I looked up and noticed this…
The mountain top all ablaze and drenched in morning sunlight. Could anything be more beautiful?

Just before the sun rose on us, meaning we could see and feel the sun on our faces, not just see it in the sky, we hiked through a little meadowish type place and found this guy/or girl.
My guess is that this person slept all night like this. All I can say is that I hope this person isn’t any older than their early 20’s. If I slept like that for more than an hour, there would be some serious complications afterward. That being said, I am sure I’ve had a brother or two spend a night like this in the mountains. Maybe even right here in the same spot. That’s what I was thinking when I passed by this person.

One of the first obstacles we came across was this snow field.
It looked like a snow field anyway. Really it was an ice field. It was an avalanche area obviously. It was full of broken trees, rocks, branches and various other mountain related debris. I was excited when I first saw it and Steve took my picture.
I took one more step and immediately slipped and fell on my face. You would have thought I’d learned my lesson after stepping in the snow at Snowbird on the 4th of July. Nope. I guess some people just can’t be taught.

After my little spill, I re-evaluated how I was going to get across this thing. Others were obviously doing it, so I took notice to see how. There were toe holds that someone smarter than me and armed with a shovel had carved out. This person was obviously larger than me and I could barely reach each toe hold, but I managed somehow, as did every other person in our climbing party.
It was nerve racking, but we made it. We paused after that feat for a second breakfast. That had to be the coldest spot on the mountain we had encountered with a constant down draft of cold wind coming off the snow. Why we stopped there I don’t know. At the bottom of the snowfield there was a snow cave carved out by the snowmelt run off.

As we were eating our breakfast another climbing group came upon the snow field. There were four horses and riders. I wondered how in the world they planned to get those horses across the snowfield since I had barely managed it myself.

The first rider hopped off his horsey and without much thought started to cross. He seemed to have better luck than me.
I snapped a picture because I was so impressed. Just as I was about to start feeling like an idiot for falling and being so careful and nervous while I crossed, the unthinkable happened. The horse lost his footing and started to slide down. It was 50-75 feet down the ice sheet which ended into a snow cave. Not a place where a horse could really be “okay” if it slipped.

We all started to scream and gasp in horror. We all kind of lurched up to help, but immediately realized there was nothing we could do. Somehow, that horse managed to get a hoof into the ice and pushed itself back up. He slipped and clamored all the way back across the ice. It was just about to go down again when it got one hoof back on dry land and managed to muscle its way back onto the land. I have never felt more relieved.

The horses then proceeded to take the safer route which was off the trail, but also off the ice.
You could walk down and around the ice, like the Davies wisely did. I hope I never have to see a 1500 pound animal sliding down an ice sheet ever again, I’ll tell you that.
And…big props for the horse who kept it’s cool under the pressure. She was shaken when she got back on the land, but they calmed her down instantly with a “Whoa girl!” and a pat on the snout (do horses have a snout?)
Anyway…we would have given them a major round of applause after their amazing accomplishment, but we didn’t want to risk spooking the horses.

The trail changed a bit from the dirt path to a very rocky trail as we made our way up. Here’s a look back at the long semi steep ridgeline of rocks on rocks on more rocks.
Steve on rocks.
Kristin on rocks.


A look back at the rocky slope we'd just hiked.
The trail wound and zig-zaged through all kinds of ecosystems. Just as soon as we got used to the terrain, it would change.

Now we’re back on a path through a field of timber and wild flowers. Also, that's the straw from my Camelbak.

Then down through a snow run-off area. This was a really cool ice shelf.
You could have camped under there. It was big!

We stopped to take a look at the map and evaluate where we were and what elevation we were at.
I just finished reading “Paths of Glory” by Jeffery Archer. A great read by the way. It’s historical fiction novel about George Mallory who may have been the first person to summit Everest. Anyway…I read a lot in that book about high elevations and how slowly you move when the air is thinner. I was anxious to see what this was like. It’s hard to relate unless you experience it. At this point in the hike, I was still fine. No oxygen limitations. I was always so curious to see what our elevation was. Luckily my brother Scott had a GPS do-dad and would periodically check our elevation. IT was super cool. I guess I need and altimeter. Christmas is coming…

Sunrise.
It was light long before we had any sun on our faces. It felt so warm and good when it came.

Here’s a cool photo of the trail zig-zaging up the mountain.
It was fun to see the other hikers in a more lofty place and think…I’ll be there in a few minutes. Then after being there to look down on the poor suckers lower down the trail. It was especially cool to see when it was still dark. All you could see was little lights bobbing around from headlamps worn by hikers above us.

The higher up the trail went, the more mountains you saw. Now I really understand what they mean by a “mountain range.”
You always just assume that over that mountain is another city…but really it’s a whole network of mountains with tiny cities interspersed between the mountains.

Here’s the back side of the north “face” of Timpanogos.
I’d never seen her face from this side before. Looks like a pyramid.

Pounding the pavement.
Boots, wool socks, under armor, perfect pants.

Another eco-system. Beautiful wildflowers.
Some of the best I’ve seen. Topped only by wildflowers in the Albion Basin and near Lake Solitude. The rock wall as a backdrop though is hard to beat. Beauty at its finest.

Our first view of the summit.
Celebration. It looks so close….too bad it wasn’t.
Together we can do it.

In the Timpanogos Basin which is a huge meadow in the midst of this beautiful mountain range, we came across a scout troop who had camped here. We found out later that they were scouts from my brother Randy’s troop. What a majestic place to camp.



Here’s just some random beautiful/interesting shots to remember.

The trail.
Going up.

Yep.


Here’s a look back at the meadow as we were exiting it. Beautiful.



Our first look at the year round snow fields. Not glaciers, but close. Some years they do actually all melt away, according to the Ranger. But most years they don’t melt all the way, certainly not this year.

Just a 500 foot drop on each side.
The ledge was a good two feet wide though. Totally safe. Glad this wasn’t anyone in our party standing there though.

Here they are…and we didn’t even have to travel to the Alps to see them (although someday we will).
MOUNTAIN GOATS. (look closely they are at the top of this ridge) This was a big part of the reason I wanted to do this hike. I was promised that we’d see some prancing around on ledges narrower than my pinky finger. Sure enough.
They danced around jumping from ledge to ledge like Chinese Acrobats. I was hoping to have a closer encounter with them, but it never came.

And we have the saddle. Here are the Saddlers.
Most of them anyway. The view (behind us) is pretty spectacular, but you can’t really see into Salt Lake County from here.

You have to go a little higher for that view. We sat here for about 40 minutes and ate our lunch. Just as we were ready to leave my brother Ryan arrived ragged and out of breath. We waited for him to rest and eat his lunch, then we headed back up the trail.

This was what I was waiting for.
Rocky rills at the top of the mountain and me scurrying up them. It was finally happening.
I was so excited. I was wearing the mittens because my hands were quite cold and we had to use our hands to climb up the rocks and boulders at the top.


My brother’s Scott and Ryan were a few minutes behind us and I noticed Scott as he began to climb up the “Chimney”.
He took a photo of us from below too. Maybe someday he’ll give it to me.

If Steve looks scared here shimmying along this thin little trail at the edge of the mountain, it’s not because he was.

It really wasn’t that far from the saddle to the summit, but it was farther than we thought it would be. Mainly we just had to move slow and take a lot of breaks.
This was the part where we really noticed the elevation. We had to take air-sucking stops about every 50 feet or so.
It was rather exhausting, but fun at the same time. I was getting so excited to be so close. My energy level was pretty low however and I’ll admit that I got to the top on fumes and adrenalin.

So close you taste it.

But we did make it. WE. WERE. HERE.
YES WE DID!!! Here’s the view to prove it.

It may not seem like a tremendous accomplishment for all those including my own family members who have done it time and time again, but it was to me. A few years ago I never dreamed I would be here ever in my life. Now…I came, I saw, I conquered. And…I won’t say it was easy, but I certainly wasn’t as hard for me as I had always feared. It just goes to show you that you just can’t let all your little fears rule your life. You’ll never do anything interesting.

Here’s the 360 view.
Looking to the East Emerald Lake (or slush)directly below us on the summit. Utah Lake and
Utah Valley.

Impresive views.

Wait a minute...is that me sitting on the tippy-top of the mountain and talking on the phone?
Yep, it is. I am what I am. Four bars up there by the way.

Here we are at the Summit Marker.


Kristin.


Steve.


Here’s a cute baby we saw at the top.
She was seriously cute. Like seriously. She wasn’t the only kid at the top either. If you can believe it, there was a six year old girl and a three year old boy at the top. For reals. I thought that was a real accomplishment and started to wonder if I could get my kids to the top. After much thought, I am sure I could. It’s the getting them and myself back down that would be the hard part.

It’s the way down that is so incredibly difficult and long and horrible.

Here I am living my dream of being in the shack on top of the mountain.

It was not what I expected it to look like. It was more of a gazebo than a shack.

Here is our names in the log book of climbers.
For the record…I was the first in our party to arrive, not that it matters (it matters). Steve just beat me to the book.

As you can see from this photo, there were a lot of people on the summit.


Here’s a look back at the trail leading to the summit.
It’s cool to look back and see the ridge line, we stared at for hours as we were hiking up, from the top.

The Summiteers.
Dan, Steve, me and My brothers Ryan and Scott both made it too. I was super proud of Ryan. He’s old you know, but he absolutely made it TO. THE. TOP. I bet he’ll do some more hard things in the near future. Like the Salt Lake Half Marathon.

Dan was all worried before the trip that he would slow our group down.
If anything, he led our group. I think he maybe forgot that at nearly 7 feet tall, his legs were nearly double the length of ours. So he only had to hike half as fast as us to keep up. I only overtook him just before we reached the summit. Turns out that at twice my body weight, it takes more air to move a body that tall. He had to stop more frequently to gasp for air in the very tallest altitudes.

I just couldn't get enough of looking back at this dramatic ridge line.


It really was so majestic.


Lastly, here I am at the top of Mount Timpanogos.
I really wanted a picture of myself at the top with all the lines in the background. And…I got it, because I went there.

After spending a half hour or so on the summit we made the trek back down. We saw this fossil of a sea shell just after we started down.
Really a sea shell. Clear up here? Makes me wonder about what this place must have looked like a billion years ago.

Here’s a cool look back at the trail we had descended.


Oh. Be Careful!
No one we knew.

The ice shelf again.


Here’s the Davies hiking in front of the ice shelf and our new friends behind them. We leap frogged with the guy in the green shirt and the guy behind him the entire way down.


Here’s where I wished we were at the bottom.
But we were not. But the trail was pretty. Shortly after I took this picture I walked into a branch that was at my shin level. I won’t lie…it hurt. Bad. But I didn’t realize how bad it hurt until a few days later when the bruise came.

There were lots of water and waterfalls.
I didn’t care to see them at this point. I just wanted to be done. I will say this though…they were beautiful, and even though I hiked passed them in the morning, I didn’t see them in the darkness.
In fact, I had no idea how big and how many of them there were.

In fact, I was shocked at just how much water there was on the trail. I remember there being some water on the trail in the dark, but I had no idea how much there really was. It was like we were hiking in the middle of a good sized stream for about a half mile.

Hiking the last two miles were psychologically disturbing for me. I had already gotten back to the place where I felt like I was when I started, the place where we were when the light came. See, we hiked for about an hour and a half in the dark, so I never actually saw the terrain at the beginning. Nothing looked familiar when we came back through. There was no way to gage just how far we were from the trail head. It felt as if we had been hiking forever! We had been hiking forever. We were approaching 11 hours on the trail when I really started to get frustrated that this was not over. I realized then that we likely had at least an hour’s worth of hiking left.

I was tired, hungry and my big toe was banging on against the front of my hiking boot. I stopped to tighten my laces, but realized then that I should have done that two hours previously. I was worried about my big toe and its nail…

So since we had no choice we just kept going. And going. And going. Then, something good happened. Aspen trees.
Aspen trees were down low. I knew we must be getting somewhat close. We’d been on the trail 11.5 hours at this point. I started to pick up my pace as the end was in sight and my toe really hurt and I wanted to stop moving. Here’s Steve near the end.
Doesn’t he look determined to finish.

Here’s my “I hate everything about my life right now” smile.
This was at about 11 hours and 45 minutes.

And then…it happened! I saw the trailhead sign. Just another 50 yards, then sit down. I high fived the trail head sign at 5:38 p.m. It had taken us 11 hours and 58 minutes to complete the hike. Also…I hadn’t used a restroom in 11 hours and 58 minutes. I am not sure how that is possible considering the amount that I drank on the trail, but I really never felt a “need” until about 30 minutes before we finished. I took care of my business as Steve ran the .4 miles down the canyon to get the van. We all sat around in sheer relief and waited. Most of us sat.
Some of us laid right on the ground. Oh it felt so good to be finished.

I took my shoes off, but didn’t dare to look at my toe so I left my socks on.

This is Rio, the dog.
He hiked with us most the way up and down. He was the most delightful dog. He was wearing these little dog shoes. I didn’t notice them until I got to the summit. I guess the distance and ruggedness of the terrain is too much for dog paws, so he hikes in little boots. It was fun to have him around. You can’t tell from this photo, but he had a little pack he was wearing, like he was a little pack mule.

So here we are again, at the bottom, at the end of a grueling, yet extremely satisfying day.
I’ll admit that I grumbled mostly to myself and Steve for the last hour and a half, but as soon as it was over, I was all better. It was such a great experience. It was all I expected and hoped for and more. The only thing I was surprised by was how warm it was at the summit. I was expecting severe temperatures, but it was balmy.

This has always been one of the most impressive peaks to look up at. Now, I am even more impressed with its beauty and majesty. Can’t wait for next year, who’s in?

Post-Script: After our 15 mile hike to the nether reaches of oxygen (11,749 feet) we paid some pretty serious consequences. Mainly my big toe on my left foot.
Yeah, it’s probably going to fall off. Who needs big toenails anyway? Answer: Everyone. Every toe needs a toenail. I know that because I have lost several in the past and it really hurts for a long time. Also, here is my massive bruise after my encounter with a tree branch.
Yeah, it hurts.

Before we picked the kids up, we stopped at In-N-Out. We were so hungry, but after riding in the car for 45 minutes we could hardly move anymore. We shuffled into the restaurant like 95 year olds. I couldn't wear shoes--but they still served us.
The food made me so happy. Happy enough that I was able to pick up my children from their grandmother's house. I knew when I laid eyes on Alyssa that she had Pink Eye. Grandma thought it was a reaction from getting some sunscreen in her eye, but in my heart of hearts I knew--and it was (we found out the next day).

We drove them home, bathed them and put them to bed. That may be my biggest accomplishment in my six year experience as a parent. I can't believe I pulled that much responsible parenting off after the day I had on the mountain. I truly felt like a champion.

Steve’s post-script: I have eaten at In-N-Out hundreds of times and have eaten at fast food restaurants where they issue you a number to pick up your food thousands, maybe tens of thousands of times. And NEVER before have I been issued number one. Here it is.
Happy hiking everyone. I finally got it. I’m number 1.

(Back to Kristin) After spending the whole day on the mountain…That’s what Steve wanted you to know.