Adventure: one way to measure a life

Near the beginning of this year, one of my best adventure buddies, Boyd, found out that he had ALS, also known as "Lou Gehrig's Disease". I had emailed him to find out if he wanted to go skiing with me and our mutual friend Lynn. When he emailed me back he gave me the sad news. We had spent a lot of time together in the outdoors--skiing, climbing Kings Peak (Utah's highest point), hiking at Boulder Mountain, fishing, and many other great outings.
I wanted to know what I could do to help. I figured that about the only thing would be to maybe take him on some short adventures up into the mountains we both love.

Trip 1

The first one, in June, ended up being a drive along the Mirror Lake Highway in the Uintas. I wanted Boyd to do what he wanted to do, so we got out at the Provo River Falls and wandered down the trail.

Boyd's career was as a photographer. He still has the love for a good shot.

Though his disease is progressing rather rapidly, and his muscles are beginning to weaken to the point that he has a challenging time walking, he still wants to be as fully engaged with life as he can be. He told me that as far as his personal case goes, he'd rather not be like the late Stephen Hawking and be confined to wheelchairs or other means of life support. He told me that when he can no longer do anything he loves to do, he'd just as soon go.
I certainly could relate to that. I have told several people that if I ever get Alzheimers, I'm going to go while I still have my thinking ability, and do the riskiest activities I can think of in the hopes of ending my life by a slip or a fall, instead of making someone have to take care of me. He had also mentioned to me that he regretted the summer of 2017, because he had worked so hard to put in his backyard, and his family members and friends had asked him several times to go camping with them, but he had put it off so he could finish the back yard. He wished he would have known was was going to happen. The thing is, we rarely do.
As we walked down to the falls, the only time he asked for help was going down the stone steps. We hung around the falls, taking a few pics, Boyd talking to one guy who had made it out to the middle of the river and sat on a rock just above the falls. After a while, we headed back to the 4Runner, and continued driving up the highway. Eventually Boyd said, "Let's turn off here and go for a hike."

A short hike into the woods--nothing like it!

I pulled off and we got out, following some old dirt road back in, until it ended, which wasn't very far, and we continued on through the forest. We spotted a couple of deer, and maybe a beaver ducking beneath the water in a lily-pad covered pond. At one point, Boyd lost his balance and fell. I had wandered away a few feet and came back to help him up. He was okay. "At least I picked a good place to fall--pretty soft here," he said. We probably walked through the woods for about a half mile, then headed back to the vehicle. "Let's see if your trail finding skills are still good," I said. Within moments he had found our way back.
We stopped at Dick's Drive-in in Kamas and got a late lunch, continuing our conversation between bites. "I would really love a cheeseburger," he said, "but I deal better with chicken strips in these hands."
We talked about going out the next time, how we would drive from Mill Hollow over to Currant Creek. "As long as I'm still able to go, let's plan on it," he said.

Trip 2

We made it out again on July 3rd, and accomplished the goal.
We mostly traveled dirt roads over the top of some spectacular country.

We talked about places we had been and he told me of places I should go--even showing me his favorite fishing spot at Currant Creek. I wanted to try it right then, but we hadn't brought any gear. It was time to go home though. Ann wanted to see me for dinner. When we were nearly home, Boyd pointed up at Mt. Timpanogos and said, "I have never been up on that 'plateau'. I'd like to go up there."
"I went up there last year," I said, "my first time ever. It's called Sagebrush Flat. It's a pretty cool place." We decided that maybe that would be our next trip.
The conversation, like the first time, had been matter-of-fact about his disease and the ultimate outcome. There was no beating around the bush for either of us. "Some people have a hard time knowing what to say to me now," he'd said on our first drive. I just tried to treat him the same way I always had, like my friend. That's the way I want to be treated if I'm ever in that kind of situation.

Trip 3

On July 31st, I picked Boyd up and we headed up to Sagebrush Flat. The road is a continuation of the road that leads up to the Timpooneke Trailhead---one of the ways to the top of Mt. Timpanogos. It's a dirt road that leads around to the west side of Timp. It was actually rockier and bumpier than I had remembered it being, and I thought about how Boyd had mentioned on our earlier trip this summer into the Uintas how he didn't want to go on a certain road because of how bumpy it was. I mentioned to Boyd that I hadn't remembered it being so rough and he said, "It's not that bad. You're just worrying about me." And he was right. It likely seemed bumpier to me because I was remembering what he'd said about that other road, and worried that I had taken him on a road that was too bumpy because of that.

Selfie near Sagebrush Flat

I had climbed up on the rocks to pick some currants.
Boyd asked me to stay up there and he took this pic.

Sagebrush Flat is a Beautiful area with views into both Utah and Salt Lake Counties.

We made it up to Sagebrush Flat and began exploring a little. We talked about how many hunters might be up in that area during archery season. We saw a large buck and a moose, and took some pics. I had forgotten my DSLR and Boyd was trying to get some good pics with his phone. Getting good pics with my phone is really out of the question.

The scenery was magnificent. The friendship, even better. We ended up by picking up some food at Costa Vida and taking it back to Boyd's house and eating it there.

The Sagebrush Flat area. Sweet!

We saw a moose and nice buck up here in Sagebrush Flat. I couldn't
find the pics though.

Trip 4

August 15th was our most recent trip. We made it back to Currant Creek. I remembered that earlier in the summer we had passed through the area during the huge fire up near Strawberry Reservoir, the Dollar Ridge fire, and we had seen flames and tons of smoke along with aircraft dropping water and/or fire retardant on it. I couldn't see any smoke now--at least from that fire. The air was a bit smoky from all the fires further west, but not as bad as it has been this summer.

Boyd told me that we wouldn't be able to make it down to his favorite fishing spot, because they had tried the week before when he came up with some family members, and he had fallen down pretty good. So we made it to an area that was easier to access and set up our stuff.

We caught a couple of eating-sized fish. Boyd had told me that he and his wife Robin love to eat fish. That was fine with me. My wife Ann hates even the smell of them cooking.

It was a team effort. I tied on all the hooks and other gear, baited up the hooks, and cast out the line, and then Boyd reeled 'em in. The weather was nice all day, with long periods of cloud cover and some cooling breezes. We could have sat up there all day long and pretty much did.

Boyd got to reel in the bigger ones, although I managed to bring in
the minnow on the left. Ha ha!

During the time there we had some pretty open and frank conversation. Boyd told me that he had stopped using the BiPAP machine that doctors had wanted him to use to help out his breathing at night. "It's just so uncomfortable," he said--or something like that. He's pretty honest about his approach to life, telling me that if he goes, he goes, and he doesn't want to prolong the inevitable. On the way home we stopped to grab some food, and he accidentally dropped his fries on the floor. He picked them up and still ate them. I had shaken off the floor mat before I went and picked him up that day, so there wasn't any loose dirt on it at least. I asked him "did you get any grit?" 

"No," he said.

I told him that I had shaken off the mat.

He said, "Well, it's not like I care about that stuff anyway. I mean I'm not going to be around much longer, so what's a little dirt." He held up his root beer. "And I never used to drink much of this for health reasons, but now, what does it matter? I can do what I want." I had to admit his logic was compelling.

The haul! Boyd enjoyed reeling in the larger fish. It weighed somewhere
in the 2-3 pound range.

The Next Time

I'm not really sure when we'll be able to get out again. Ann, who is disabled, expressed some concerns about how much time I'd been spending away from her, and not just with Boyd. I had gone on a hike with my brother and taken some of my grandkids out exploring all within the last few weeks.

But that being said, I'm hoping that Boyd and I can continue to get out until he can no longer do it. And personally, I'm hoping that I'm being the right kind of friend--one who cares enough to spend time with an old buddy who's ill. I'd like to encourage all my readers to do the same, and if you're friends with Boyd, go and see him or even take him somewhere fun.

Boyd has been able to keep an upbeat attitude during this ordeal, which is exemplary. I think it would be pretty hard to not get down, but he considers himself to be pretty lucky. And me? I'm lucky to have friends like Boyd to adventure with. It's one way to measure a life.

Hiking: It's warming up, and time for some nice weather hiking!

I generally don't let bad weather deter me from hiking.

My October hike to the Notch in the Uintas yielded shots like this one.

That being said, once it starts warming up, my eyes light up as I start thinking about the hikes I'm wanting to do sometime between now and next time the snow flies. I never get to do all of them, but one can always dream, can't one?
There are several trips I'd like to make this year. I'll be doing an unscheduled one this month, so I won't count that one. Most of the ones I want to do this year require the snow to be pretty much gone. In May, I'm going up into the Stansbury Mountains to follow a road/trail called "Mining Fork Road". I was on it a couple of times in 2016 and never followed it all the way up. It ends at South Willow Lake, which I'd really love to see. I also want to follow the road down as far as it goes, because I've been unable to locate where someone might get on it and drive partway then hike the rest. So, that's on the agenda. Whether that will take one day or two, remains to be seen.

On the trail to the top of Deseret Peak in the Stansburys

Second on the list is the Pfeifferhorn. It has been on my list for a number of years and I haven't ever made it.
There are a number of other peaks that I have climbed before, but would like to do again. If I do them though, I want to do them with someone this time. I've been a solo hiker for a long time, simply because of my schedule, but I'm wanting to share the experience with others on these peaks. The peaks are Timpanogos, Nebo, and Deseret Peak. I also wouldn't mind doing the relatively easy hike to the top of Baldy in the Uintas if someone were to tag along.

Some of my best hiking partners are my grandkids.

But I also like taking other family members and friends along.

Of course, I'm open to other hikes that aren't as strenuous as the three tougher hikes mentioned above. Hikes to some of the Uinta lakes for a little fishing and relaxation are always part of my agenda.

If I could, I'd do a backpacking trip. I'd really love to go to Red Castle in the Uintas as I have never been there and I've heard a lot of great things about it. One of my friends would really love to go to Kings Peak with me, and I'd do that one again if I could swing the time away from home. My wife. Ann is disabled and hasn't felt comfortable with me going away over multiple nights, or even one night for several years. She has hinted that she might be open to it in the future though, so here's to hoping.

I imagine I'll do my share of solo hiking as well. Maybe up to Silver Glance Lake or elsewhere in the Wasatch. No matter what happens though, it will be great to get out and experience whatever the good Lord allows me to experience. I will be counting each adventure as just a bonus to an already amazing life.

Sometimes ya gotta go it alone if ya want to get out there.

Hiking and Four-wheeling: American Fork Canyon

The Moon was Beautiful low in the eastern sky

I have been on vacation this week and with our original plan of spending two nights in Colorado canceled, I figured I could hike twice this week. Today was the first one. On the agenda was the Tibble Fork Loop hike, which I had heard a lot about, but never done.
I got up early, hoping to see the sunrise while I was up there, and actually I got up there a lot faster than I thought I would and sat back in the new Tibble Fork parking lot to try and get some pictures of the little smile of a moon that was rising in the eastern sky.
Once it started getting light, I headed over to the dam as that was where the trail head was supposed to be. I parked down below it, on the pull out area between the road and the dam. Once I crossed the dam I could see the trail, or what I believed to be the trail, heading up the side of the hill. There were a couple of spots of yellow ribbon around the base of the trail.

I went back later and took these two pics of the trailhead when it was light.

Same picture, but from a distance back on the dam.

I wasn't quite sure that it really was the trail because A) there was no sign indicating so, and B) there was a trail going off to the left, as if it was going to circle the reservoir. I decided that the one going along the side of the lake was not the trail, so I skirted the ribbon, trying to avoid the eroded areas, and worked my way up the trail.
Once on the trail I found that someone had cut trees and branches and put them across the trail.

They had to cut down a lot of scrub oak to cover this trail.

It was definite that someone was trying to discourage hiking on that trail, but I kept going--mostly because there hadn't been a sign at the trail head indicating that the trail was closed. After a while of climbing over the branches, the trail met another one angling in from the left and the branches and small trees no longer covered the trail.

I was able to get up high early enough to catch the light on nearby
peaks.

I made my way up through scrub oak and maple, and then gradually, found myself amongst the quakies and pines as I climbed in elevation.  At about this point it dawned on me that I had forgotten to pay the fee that is charged for doing anything in American Fork Canyon. I had heard of some people who had gotten caught for that and had ended up paying a hefty fine, and I debated heading back down the way I came. But I decided I would just hike fast instead. In a few minutes, I found a junction and one trail headed left over to Mill Canyon, the other part of the loop was that way.

The trail to the right led to Mud Spring. I turned and looked at the other side of the sign, as if I was coming up from the Mill Canyon side and saw that the trail I had come up had officially been closed.

Yep. I had come up the closed trail. Oops!

I had actually been surprised by all of this because it seemed like I had seen several trip reports from people hiking this loop, and none of them had mentioned the closure. Maybe it has been very recently that they have closed it. And there was no actual sign on the Tibble Fork end that noted the closure. I felt bad, but there was really nothing I could do at that point.
I still wasn't sure I was on the right trail though because I hadn't really studied the map and didn't actually know the name "Mill Canyon" so it didn't really mean anything to me on the sign. I met two women coming up and they confirmed that I was on the trail that looped back. One of them was wearing something that to me looked like ranger clothing so I was a bit worried that I might get in trouble for hiking up that way I had. But there had been no badge, so I figured that her hiking clothing just kind of resembled ranger gear and that she was just another hiker.

In the midst of peace and contentment, there are still signs of civilization.

You can still find pockets of color.

The reds are hard to come by now.

Up there at the top, the trail meanders through some large meadows. There wasn't a lot of color left--just patches really---but it was still Beautiful. There is another fork in the trail and it was pretty self-explanatory.

The next sign I saw showed me the way back to Tibble Fork where I was parked.

And it smelled so good and clean up there! I made my way down Mill Canyon, taking pics along the way, still a bit worried as to whether or not I'd have a ticket waiting for me on my windshield.

Looking north 

Stream crossing for motorcycles and bikes.

This looked like a ladder in the sky to me.

Once back, there wasn't a ticket and I breathed a sigh of relief then headed to the fee station to pay my fee so I could be legal for the rest of my stay. I had decided that I wanted to do a little driving on dirt roads, so I headed up to Silver Lake Flat. Along the way I noticed that the Granite Flat Campground had a hand-scrawled sign that you could have a picnic in there, but you had to pay $8 and your canyon fee didn't count. I decided that there were probably better places to have picnics and that my canyon fee would suffice for those other places.

Not that I was stopping to eat. I had jammed down my peanut butter sandwich shortly after getting back to my vehicle and wasn't planning on eating again until I got down out of the mountains. I had promised Ann that I would get home early because I had gotten up at the crack of dawn. There are certain pleasures that only can happen as you are awaiting the sunrise, and I wanted those perks, but that would be at the expense of not staying as long into the afternoon. Part of being a caregiver.
I drove through the stream that gurgles into Silver Lake and headed up the dirt road toward Red Baldy and the other peaks up that direction.

Looking toward Mt. Timpanogos from the Silver Flat Lake Road

Looking north, toward Red Baldy, etc.

From the road above Silver Lake Flat

From the trailhead parking just above Silver Lake.

I didn't spend a lot of time up there, just enough to give my hubs a workout, and to get a few pics of the peaks and remaining colors. And, as always, to leave myself feeling a little bit unsatisfied, so I would be sure to come back. I found a few more trails to take and a few more roads to drive. What more could a man want? I thanked God for letting me have a great time in his world, and headed back down to civilization.
The adventure was over, but another one is just around the corner. I can't wait.

I had a great time. Wish you were here!