The Drag of the Great Outdoors

I have all these not-from-Utah coworkers. They're always talking about all of the wonderful things they've done in the Beehive State--hiking this, skiing that, natural beauty-ing whatever. It's enough to make a native feel guilty that all he ever does is awkwardly stand in the midst of teens at Kilby Court.

So this summer I've made it a goal to face my archenemy--nature. Luckily I've got mega-outdoorsman sister to lead the way.

Thus far, in addition to hitting each of our ranch weekends, Aunt Sarah has taken us on two hiking trips. The first one, to Donut Falls (which, thanks to a recent rock slide, no longer looks like a donut), went pretty smoothly.

I somehow convinced Curtis to ride in the backpack and even with a chubby, 30-pound rock on my back, the trail was pretty easy. Paige was ecstatic because she saw a chipmunk (of course it was Alvin) and Curtis was more than pleased to be able to throw rocks in the river. We couldn't have asked for a better night.

It went so well that we figured we'd try it again. The next adventure was to Cecret Lake at Alta. And it was a bit too much for us.

We got a late start, so by the time we got there Sarah said there was no time to waste. Paige didn't get the memo.

Enamored with maps (I curse that blasted Dora), Paige dawdled as she tried to lead the way with the parking map we'd been handed by the ranger. Curtis was again in the backpack, but the terrain was a bit steeper. It was steep enough, in fact, that by the time we made it to the misspelled lake, I was 90 percent sure I was going to have a heart attack.



Cecret Lake

We kept Paige motivated throughout the last stretch with promises of a Capri Sun upon reach of the magical destination, only to find that I had left them on the kitchen counter. Her only solace came from me allowing her to eat about a half dozen bags of fruit snacks as apology.

By the time we made it back down, Paige was in tears, Curtis was in my arms, and Traci was giving me the look that said that we're done with nature for the rest of year.