Mountain High

My mom is a hiker. On sunny summer days of my childhood, she would often lead us on adventures up the canyon. She would point out the Columbine and the Bluebells along the trail. She would encourage and (sometimes) drag the stragglers up the hill, promising a rest or a snack in just a few minutes. And, of course, there was the reward of reaching the top; getting to see the view or play in the waterfall or stand triumphant on the highest boulder.

Many memories were made on the trails of Southern Utah as our family set out with our cousins, the Browns, and the two families would adventure through the HooDoos of Bryce Canyon, the mysteries of Kolob Canyon or, on one particularly courageous outing, through Zion’s Narrows. I don’t know if I always had the best hiker attitude. Sometimes it was hard to keep going. It seemed that we’d never reach the top. But, Mom had her ways of keeping things moving.

She sang:
Can you walk a little faster? said the tortoise to the hare.
There’s a porpoise right behind me and he’s stepping on my tail.

She offered treats: I think she had an endless supply of Starburst or Jolly Ranchers in her pocket.

And, she’d call ahead to the front hikers with her Brighton Camp days yell:
Hi-lo inny-minnie eye-kye-kye ooom chow chow eeee-whoa-whoa
And, whoever was up ahead would yell back:
Inica-minica-inica saw, ta-boom, ta-la, ta-yooohooo
You always knew they weren’t too far away.

And, Mom was always right about one thing: getting to the top really is worth it.

So, when Chad suggested a hike to fill up our wide-open day, I was excited about the idea of introducing my kids to one of their Grammy’s favorite activities. I told them about the trail songs we used to sing as I helped them pull on long pants. We talked about what kind of wild flowers we might see as I slathered on sunscreen. And, I mentioned how if we got tired, my mom always had Starburst in her pocket to keep us moving; maybe I’ll throw in a few treats, too.

We climbed in the car and headed for the hills. The kids were excited about the idea of climbing a mountain. We drove through the beautiful yellow and purple flower-covered hills to the trailhead. Chad had a pack filled with water and snacks. I brought along ‘nature crowns’ for the kids to collect leaves and flowers along the way. We donned jackets, took one last bathroom break, and headed up the trail.

Our big 5-year-old boy was fearless and energetic, wanting to be in the lead and pave the way. He and Chad found walking sticks---they looked so official. Little Sister was a little more reserved in her excitement, cautious of the mud, and worried about the bugs. But, she, too, hiked with a smile most of the way. Chad pointed out horse hoof prints on the trail, warned of stinging nettle in the fields, and encouraged the kids with thoughts of reaching the summit and being able to see into the valley. Sis and I looked for butterflies (the only bug acceptable to this entomophobe), counted our steps, and, of course, sang our own trail songs. Oh…. and she asked for a treat every few hundred feet.

We finally made our way to our “top.” It wasn’t the tip of Lewis Peak, where the trail eventually led. I’m not even sure how far we hiked. But, we did get to a summit where we could look into the valley. My little hikers felt such a sense of accomplishment as they relished the view. I was proud of them, of their ability to keep going even when the trail seemed too long or too steep. I loved watching their discovery of tree log benches, beetles and new flowers along the way and smiled at their desire to point out their finds to Mom and Dad. And, I was glad to pass along my memories of days spent walking amid the Indian Paintbrush and Sunflowers with my mom. What a wonderful, beautiful world!