Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from May, 2014

it's not about the summit.

It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.  –Sir Edmund Hillary
With fresh snow and lingering storms barricading the bigger peaks a few weeks ago, I planned to link the two Salt Lake City ridges that parallel city creek canyon in one giant loop. I estimated 5 hours to complete what I hoped would involve 20 miles, 7,000 feet of elevation gain, several summits, and minimal bush-whacking.
At 5:05am Craig Lloyd and I started out towards the Twin Avenue "Peaks." It was dark, I had purposely left my headlamp, and I relished in watching the city lights reflect from the rocky trail to guide my footsteps. Craig and I settled into a pace of broken dialogue as the alpine glow emerged on the distant Wasatch peaks.
morning storm clouds, realizing that the predicted 61F and full sun isn't going to happen
Approaching Little Black Mountain the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and my mood shifted with the weather. Sometimes the things you learn about yourself in the mountains …

it's not about the summit.

It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.  –Sir Edmund Hillary
With fresh snow and lingering storms barricading the bigger peaks a few weeks ago, I planned to link the two Salt Lake City ridges that parallel city creek canyon in one giant loop. I estimated 5 hours to complete what I hoped would involve 20 miles, 7,000 feet of elevation gain, several summits, and minimal bush-whacking.
At 5:05am Craig Lloyd and I started out towards the Twin Avenue "Peaks." It was dark, I had purposely left my headlamp, and I relished in watching the city lights reflect from the rocky trail to guide my footsteps. Craig and I settled into a pace of broken dialogue as the alpine glow emerged on the distant Wasatch peaks.

Approaching Little Black Mountain the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and my mood shifted with the weather. Sometimes the things you learn about yourself in the mountains aren’t good things. I scowled up the steep slopes of Little Black, remembering why I was grou…