River Life

This summer I got a job as a riverguide! I'm working for World Wide River Expeditions, the Hazlett's rafting company. Right now I'm mostly doing one-day and three-day trips down the Fisher Towers section of the Colorado River. There are a lot of youth conferences and scout groups that come for river trips.

Guides at Moab Diner during training.

Jed, Mike and I got the same Chacos!

Sheena and I on the Desolation Canyon training trip.

Firewater Canyon in Deso.

Rowing the daily

Most of the times I'm guiding a boat like this, a paddleboat with 8-12 passengers.

Moab Action Shots takes pictures of all the boating companies and posts them online. Check them out!

Search & Rescue

The other week I was hanging out in the World Wide warehouse when John, one of my guide friends, came up and asked if anybody was familiar with the Gemini Bridges trail. I've ridden the trail quite a few times so I followed John as he told me that someone was lost out there without any flashlights (this was at 9:30 pm and the moon wasn't out). We met up with Randy, a guy from the single's branch, and we headed out in his Silverado pickup after a quick prayer. The people that were lost were from Canada along with a new river guide from Tag-a-long. They had lost their way in the dark after riding their bikes for five hours. Finally they found a place on the trail where they could barely get service on their phones. So the guide called the only other local that she knew, Randy, whom she had fortunately met just the day before. So, somehow they found their coordinates and we were able to find out that they were on a jeeping trail called "Metal Masher." In our Chevy Silverado we found out why it's called Metal Masher, even on the bypasses. After we had gone up the trail quite a ways and almost given up, we bumped into some jeepers that said they were out there looking for "three lost people." So we kept going and we later got a call from our lost friends saying they just saw our lights from the truck and to turn around! Finally we found them and took them back to their truck at the trailhead. We rolled back into town at about 3:30 am, but it was worth it! The next day John bought Randy a sticker that says "Metal Masher" to put on his truck as a joke.

Seminary Graduation

This is my graduating seminary class and our seminary teacher, Brother Jackman.

The White Rim Trail

Last Thursday the guys from the priest's and teacher's quorums in my ward started a mountain bike trip on the White Rim trail in Canyonlands National Park. It's a three-day, 100 mile off-road hard ride. Joe Heywood, Bryan Hays and I planned this trip for spring break in March, but it ended up being rescheduled to May 20-22, 'cuz I guess they missed me too much while I was in the hospital. Ironically, neither of them where able to go after it was rescheduled! Lame.

                              

The crew at the at the beginning of Mineral Bottom road: Joseph, Kory, leader Merrill, Jake, me, Aaron, Zak, Tyler, and Wiley. Not pictured: leader Ken.

On the trail with the Green River behind me. Because I'm still so out of shape, I drove the support truck most of the trail. I was able to get in 10-15 miles a day on my bike though!

Because we changed the campsite permits late, we had a short ride Thursday, a long ride Friday, and an average ride Saturday. The first day we weren't in a hurry to get to camp, so along the trail we hiked to Fort Bottom Ruin, an old Anasazi Indian ruin. 

Relaxing at camp Potato Bottom.

After 21 miles on Friday and another 30 to look forward to, we didn't feel like struggling up Murphy Hogback, a grueling 5-mile hill. So we loaded up seven guys in the truck, four bikes on the rack, and six bikes on top of our gear with three guys to hold it all on.

Our second night it was so windy that to cook dinner we had to use the table and a tarp to keep the propane stove on. Good times. We were able to get a camp at the Airport site instead of the Shafer campsite, which took 12 miles off the ~65 mile day.

Some of us in a small slot canyon along the way.

P-anca Positive Vasculitis with Pulmonary Hemorrhage

Yeah, I'm not sure what it means either. I know it's NOT contagious or genetic and we're working at getting it into remission.   So I'm taking a lot of medication. Basically the antibodies in my body attacked my lungs and I coughed up so much blood I needed four blood transfusions. (This post explains my condition better)

(Typed from a few days ago in the hospital) Wow, right now I'm  completely free. The only machine I have touching my body is on my lap: my mom's laptop. No oxygen, intravenus antibiotics, or sensors. It feels so liberating. I looked in the mirror for the first time yesteday in 3 weeks. I shrunk about 25 pounds, so I'm looking pretty scrawny. As far as I know, my name has been on the prayer rolls for the Timpanogos, Jordan, Logan, Ogden, Provo, Monticello, Salt Lake City and Fiji Temples. The youth in my stake even fasted for me, and that's when my condition started to turn around. Maralee Francis made t-shirts with my face on the back and "WWCAD?" (what would Christopher Andrew do?) on the front. Wristbands were made with my name on them. A two-day fundraiser was held at the Moab Adventure Center selling burgers, wristbands and other things. Several local businesses donated gift certificates, time, money. Ivy Hazlett made a facebook page for me and wrote an article in the Times Independent newspaper. Everything has truly been a blessing. I've needed them. Here's what's happened the past couple weeks:

March 13: I start coughing up blood, but I'm not worried. Things are normal, work, church activities, and even a short mountain bike ride. I'm excited for the Canyonlands Half Marathon in a week. At the end of a ward dinner I get the chills and ask my dad if he can take me home. He checks me out, says it looks like I have pneumonia, and starts me on antibiotics. He and our hometeacher, Mike Arehart, give me a blessing.

March 14: I stay home from church.  I'm sleeping in my parent's bedroom.

March 16, 1 am: I did pretty good during the day, but suddenly got worse tonight. Having more trouble breathing. My dad takes me to the hospital.

March 17: Did okay today. Brother Hugentobler, Joe Heywood, and Terri Stucki visit me.

Around 4 am:  I'm taken to get an X-ray of my chest. I have to stand up for the X-ray, and I collapse from loss of blood. I always kinda wanted to be able to say that I've passed out, I just didn't imagine it would be that way. Afterward I smiled and chuckled about it. A few minutes later in another room, I was told I was going to be life-flighted to Grand Junction. My mom comes to see me and my dad leaves to pack up a few things and start driving. I feel strangely at peace, and I know everything is going to be alright. I ask my mom to make sure Ivy knows what's happening to me.  Then I'm put to sleep, a tube is put down my throat to breath for me, and I'm put on the helicopter.

March 21: My Stake President, Todd Stubbs, tells the youth in third ward that if they pray and fast for me, they can expect a miracle. The youth organize themselves and have a stake-wide fast for me. Many people have already have fasted for me. My condition starts to turn around.

March 26: In my sleep, I pull my breathing tube out of my mouth. They don't put it back in because I'm breathing okay on my own now and they were just about to take it out today anyway. My first memories are like nightmares. Everything is dark and I struggle in bed, finally summoning the strength for a feeble "help". I wake up later with what feels like a machine sewing something inside me. Sounds weird, I know, but that's what it felt like. I cough and and suddenly the hallucination ends. I'm awake now. Looking at all the machines around me and seeing nurses walk by my room I realize I'm in a hospital. I wonder when someone is going to notice me and tell me what I'm doing here and what's going on. I feel very thirsty, but nobody will get me anything to drink because they're worried I'll choke on it. It seems nobody is paying attention to me, and I can't understand why I can't even get out of bed. The sun is shining through my window, and I ask someone what time it is. It's 9:12 am. Every nurse that speaks outside my door sounds like my mom. Finally I see familiar faces, it's Joe Heywood and Ken Ballentyne! I'm so happy to see them. I ask Joe when the Canyonlands Half Marathon is, and he told me it already happened. "What?!" "Yeah, you've been out for two weeks." "Two weeks?!" I can't believe it. I ask him if he has his cell phone on so I can call my parents, but the hospital's machinery gets messed up by them, so no phones. Finally my parents come, and my grandparents are here too. I am so happy to be alive. I get water, and it tastes like water never has before. My tongue feels out of place and my ears ring constantly-I feel like I'm willing myself to live. I plead with God to let me live. I'm not afraid of death, but I know my family needs me. Later my parents and grandparents leave to go where they're staying. I have the weirdest hallucinations.

March 29: Moved out of the ICU. Smaller room makes me feel claustrophobic. Sleeping is uncomfortable. I continue to make lots of progress. I don't need as much oxygen, no more IV fluid, I'm eating all my food, and I'm starting to gain some strength back. I can brush my own teeth and even push the buttons on the TV remote! :P

April 1: I wake up at 3:15 am and can't sleep. I call my mom and tell her to pack up because it's time to go home--I want to get out of here! Despite my eagerness, I can't leave until my doctors come and check up on me later in the morning. Argg! After I sleep some more, the doctors come by, check me out, and say I can go.

Mom brings real clothes, which I put on with difficulty. My pants practically fall off my scrawny waist. I'm wheel-chaired to my grandparents' motor home in the hospital parking lot, where they've been staying the last couple weeks. I sleep all the way to Moab.

When I get home I find an awesome banner on the garage door, signed by a bunch of my friends. Mom takes me over to the MAC (Moab Adventure Center), where my friends are putting on a fundraiser for me. Everyone is wearing my shirts, holding posters, and cooking burgers. It's SO good to see my friends again! Emma (John Clayton's little girl) is adorable. She tells me she loves me and hugs me and blows me kisses. Dallen Dalton is dressed up like a hot dog. I have awesome friends.

Later on, after my second nap of the day, Ivy arrives from BYU! Logan Lewis, Clinton Day, Sherri Day, Ivy, my parents, and I watch "The Blind Side." Afterward Ivy and I have an arm wrestle. Just don't tell anyone she beat me. Dang!

April 3: General Conference! During the first session, the choir sang my favorite hymn, "How Firm A Foundation." Before the Priesthood Session, Jed, Zak, Ivy, Rachel, and Clinton come over. We throw a frisbee around (pretty well, too) and then play a game of Sorry. On our way home from the Priesthood Session, my dad and I stop at City Market, where we run into Brian Hays and Doug Garrett. My dad makes me drive around in one of those stupid wheelchair things, but I keep bumping into food displays. People should have to have a license to drive those things! Before too long, I give up and just leave it. Being in public is strangely confusing and overwhelming. I can't really explain it. We go home and have root beer floats (with cookies'n'cream ice cream, the best). Exhausted, I hit the sack.

April 4: Charlotte and Big Chris come down from Pleasant Grove bringing Anna, Matthew, and Olivia back home. We eat my aunt Charlotte's chicken curry, my absolute favorite food. Although General Conference is great, I'm so tired I sleep through most of it.

April 5: I go to seminary with Saren. It's great. Brother Jackman, Robbie Sweeten, Saren, and I talk about everything from good movies to bad illnesses.  I come home exhausted but excited.

April 6: I work on this blog post. Typing is getting easier. Now my fingers go where I tell them to, instead of fumbling around.  I can even start practicing the piano again. I drop my college classes and the ACT test that I'm supposed to take Saturday :( Oh well.

From here it's going to be a slow recovery, slowly gaining my strength back. Just walking up stairs gets me out of breath. I want to be working, hiking, biking, and running all at the same time. Frustrating, but with all that's happened so far, I'm sure I'll make it. Relationships with family and friends couldn't be stronger. Thank you all for your amazing support and love. I can't wait to be back (with a normal body, that is)!

The only things I clearly remember from my days of sedation: Get Well card from Saren (signed by a ton of people from school) and a photo of Ivy, Zak, Lily, Clinton, dog Sunny, and me on a hike. Like I said, amazing friends.

So many machines...

Winter Happenings

Just work and school right now. I'm working at Sunset Grill and still taking classes from the USU extention office. This winter has been cruel to Moab; we've gotten a ton of snow. I turned 18 in Febuary, so that means river guiding this summer! I'm training for the Moab Half Marathon in March and a 100 mile bike ride in Canyonlands, so things are looking up for an exciting spring. Here's just a few pictures of what's been happening.

Halloween: Joseph and I as PC and Mac.

Mock disaster and I was the unlucky one with his eye poked out.

Climbing at Ice Cream Parlor.

Sandhill: Jed and I strapped old boat thwarts together to create the ultimate seven-man sled.

The unexpected snowstorm at Theatre Conference.

Geyser Pass!

Just chillin'

Stencils

To fill the boredom of cold winter days, I've taken an interest in stenciling. I just modify pictures I've taken, print them out on cardstock, and cut them out with an X-acto knife. Layers of tape and spray paint later, I'm left with some pretty cool designs. So far I've stenciled a couple shirts and my messenger bag.

Front: WWCAD? (What Would Christopher Andrew Do?)

Back: Because I'm awesome.

I got a bleaching idea from instructables.com. I cut out my design, "CFA," on freezer paper (like wax paper except one-sided), ironed it on my jeans, and applied bleach from a spray bottle. It works pretty well!

Trails in Moab

Here's a google map I made of all the trails I have hiked around Moab. Rate and comment!

Park Rangers

This is my last essay that I wrote for my English class. I got an A, so it must be good, right?

Park Rangers
Chris Andrew
USU Moab


Adj. Prof. David Neal
English 1010
November 9, 2009


I woke up to my cell phone ringing next to my bed. Groggily I answered. It was my friend Brian, a ranger at Canyonlands National Park. “Hey Chris, you still up for coming with me today? Awesome. Don’t forget that form your parents need to sign— you’re not eighteen yet. See you in a bit!” I quickly slipped on my clothes, grabbed my notebook, and ran out the door. Canyonlands National Park is about forty-five minutes away from my hometown, Moab, UT.

As I drove up the curvy road to the Canyonlands Visitor’s Center, I thought about what interested me about the Park Service. Park rangers protect the parks that bring tourism. “We try to protect the park from visitors, visitors from the park, and visitors from visitors. Say there’s a family on vacation from Michigan that’s camping legally, and then in the next campsite there’s a bunch of noisy, drunk motorcyclists that don’t have a permit. We’re obviously going to help out the Michigan family.” (Hays, Brian) Moab is a tourist-driven city, so it’s important that visitors feel safe and are attracted to the national parks around Moab.

After I drove past the Visitors Center, I went to the SAR cache. SAR stands for Search and Rescue, and it’s where I met up with Brian. He was organizing climbing gear for a patrol up Monster Tower—a six hundred foot pillar of slickrock—the next day. After we chatted awhile, I asked him about this climb. Climbers carefully select only the equipment that is necessary for a given climb. One of the most common pieces of equipment is the spring-loaded cam, a device that wedges into cracks, providing protection to the climber in case he loses his grip on the rock and takes a fall. Climbing with a heavy rack of cams dangling from your harness is tough, so it’s important to prepare and bring only what’s needed.

Even though he is on patrol, Brian is still having fun because climbing is one of his favorite pastimes. A ranger from another park was coming to climb Monster Tower with him. “As a Park Ranger, I can satisfy my need for outdoors as well as my need to help others and contribute to our nation and community…. I spend every day hiking, talking to visitors and improving the infrastructure in the backcountry. It's great to have a job where I can both build my resume and do what I love best!” (Hays, Angela)

After setting aside the gear he would not need, Brian showed me around the SAR cache. There were shelves of medical supplies, Search and Rescue gear, firefighting gear, and many other tools. He said that now that it’s winter and the park is less busy, they’re cleaning, organizing, testing, and replacing everything. “Over the summer everything gets used a lot and sometimes isn’t kept in good condition. So right now we’re in the process of going through our inventory.” (Hays, Brian) Another part of the SAR cache is the fire vehicle, a heavy duty pickup truck with firefighting equipment. Canyonlands isn’t big enough to have its own fire fighting department like larger National Parks, but it’s not close enough to a town to rely on theirs. So the rangers at Canyonlands are trained and equipped to handle small wild fires.

After leaving the SAR cache, we checked in at Brian’s office and then hopped into his patrol truck. He gave me a tour of the truck’s equipment. I was impressed by the shotgun and rifle secured to the roof. He also demonstrated the radar and communication systems. We drove to a canyon viewpoint to see if any visitors needed information or assistance. “When visitors come they want to see someone and know that the park is being taken care of. A lot of times just the presence of a Park Ranger gives people satisfaction that the park is in good hands.” (Hays, Brian)
After checking up on the viewpoint, we drove down the Shafer Trail, a popular off-road trail in Canyonlands. At one point the road widened and we could see tire tracks in the shrubs and soil. We hopped out and used rocks and dead branches to define the trail and prevent other “off-roaders” from following the illicit tracks. Sometimes the tires have made such deep ruts in the soft dirt that repair requires the use of a rake and shovel. We don’t want other jeepers to see the tracks and follow them, as if they led to a parking spot or pull-out. This would lead to the destruction of more beautiful wildlife.

As we returned to the main road, Brian pulled off into a pull-out to watch for speeders. He demonstrated his radar: “As the cars come toward us, this screen shows their speed. Sometimes it’s wrong; like maybe it’s reflected by something, or a bird flies by, or the AC’s on too high. So, by law, I have to estimate the car’s speed before I look at the radar.” He demonstrated by turning on the air conditioning full blast, and the radar shot up. “I’m pretty lenient; I give warnings for ten miles per hour over the speed limit, and normally tickets for anything higher.” (Hays, Brian)

While we waited there, I took the opportunity to ask Brian a few questions.
“Why did you want to become a Park Ranger?”
“I grew up around the Grand Canyon, and in my teenage years I volunteered for the Park Service there. The job sounded challenging, especially the search and rescue. It was what I wanted to do.”
“So what did you have to do to become a Park Ranger?”
“To become a protection ranger, I had to have a bachelor’s degree, attend a law enforcement academy, and complete an EMT course. It also helps if you have outdoor skills like hiking, climbing, skiing, and orienteering.”
With my interest piqued, I asked Lofton Wiley, another Ranger at Canyonlands, about getting a job with the Park Service. “One of the easiest ways to get a job with the Park Service is to volunteer. So maybe when you’re eighteen, volunteer on the weekends in the summer. That helps a lot.” (Wiley)

Later I learned that National Parks hire seasonal and permanent rangers. The permanent rangers are almost all certified, which means they have law enforcement training and carry firearms. Brian is working on becoming a permanent ranger at Canyonlands, where he would like to settle down and raise a family. Rangers like him make it possible for parks to stay open and attract tourists.

In fact, the small town of Moab relies on tourism for income. Hotels, restaurants, and tour companies all rely on the seasonal attractions around Moab to bring business. Before it was recognized as a base for adventure, Moab was just a small mining community. But now it has blossomed into a beautiful well-kept city, and the surrounding National Parks like Canyonlands keep it running. With the team of hard-working rangers at Canyonlands, it stays a clean and beautiful place.



Works Cited

Hays, Angela. Internet Interview 9 Nov. 2009
Hays, Brian. Personal Interview 23 Oct. 2009
Wiley, Lofton. Personal Interview 23 Oct. 2009

Konker

I wrote this essay for my English 1010 class. Enjoy.

Chris Andrew
USU Moab


Adj. Prof. David Neal
English 1010
October 6, 2009


When I was eight years old, my family moved from crowded St. Louis to beautiful Lee’s Summit, Missouri. I loved to play in the vast backyard of our new house. We had shady, climbable trees; thick, lush grass; and a green and white stilted play house. I spent countless hours out there—alone or with friends—hunting for savage animals, commandeering merchant ships, exploring faraway jungles, and pursuing many other adventures.

Owning our own “jungle” for the first time, we now had to take care of a yard by ourselves, using our own “machetes.” One of the implements my parent bought was a big, shiny shovel. I was captivated by the name “Truper”—whatever that meant—etched into the long, wooden handle. Whenever one of my parents set Truper down, he became an important tool in my expeditions. One day, however, Truper got a new name: “Konker.”

I was a paleontologist digging through the “ancient rock” in my backyard to find dinosaur bones. After a long morning of breathing in the dust thrown by Truper, I took a lunch break. Full and content afterward, I eagerly returned to my labor. Approaching the dinosaur quarry, I wanted to be cool by picking up my shovel without bending over. Stepping down hard on the blade of the shovel, I tried to grab the handle as it flew toward my four foot six inch high head. Too slow, I quickly experienced intense pain in my forehead, right below the hairline. Stunned at first, I really didn’t think I was injured too badly—until blood started gushing from my head. I ran to the backdoor, yelling for Mom. She rushed out and instructed me to lie down on the grass. She rolled out the garden hose and ran its cold water over my head while my little brother Joseph dashed inside to get my dad, a doctor in residency at the time.

Yanked away from his studies, Dad inspected the wound and declared, “I think he needs stitches.”
Mom questioned, “Do you think you can do them? I just don’t want to take Chris to the Emergency Room.”
“Yeah, but I’ll need to pick up some of my supplies at the hospital. I’ll be back soon.”

While I lay there, my friends jumped the fence that separated our yards. Robin informed me that she got stitches all the time. While my head was ringing and I was dying—or so I thought—Robin wouldn’t shut up. “Why don’t you take him to the basement, where there won’t be any distractions?” my dad suggested, as he prepared to leave. We all knew what he meant by “distractions.” He added, “You don’t need to keep running water on him. Just grab a clean rag and hold pressure.” Once again, Joseph was the runner boy, and was assigned to get a towel.

After positioning the rag on my forehead, Mom escorted me downstairs. I laid down while she read me The Arctic Patrol Mystery, one of my favorite books from the series “The Hardy Boys.” After an eternity, Dad returned and began the procedure. Cleaning my forehead with iodine, he then injected syringes of lidocaine into each side of the gash, making my forehead feel warm and tingly. He waited a few minutes for the anesthetic to take effect. As the needle pierced my skin, I felt pain shoot through my head. “Is it supposed to be this painful, Dad?” I gasped, trying to blink back tears. “Just relax, Chris,” he said. “You’re too anxious.” I tried to relax, but it was no use—it still hurt. After I complained some more, Dad checked the expiration date on the lidocaine bottle. It was expired and therefore useless. Lacking any other means of anesthetizing my forehead, he forged ahead, but only put in two more stitches.

The next day, I slowly ran my fingers over the bandaged wound, wondering how long I would have this foreign “attachment.” Two weeks later, Dad finally took out my stitches. I no longer had to keep my head dry during baths, move my head around carefully, and play less rambunctiously. However, I discovered a new ridge of skin on my forehead. Would I have this scar forever? I became aware that I was mortal. I was not indestructible. I still loved to play outside, but I knew I had to be more careful. I didn’t like being poked with needles!

Now at age seventeen, I still have that scar. It has receded from my forehead into my hairline, so it’s not as noticeable now. What is noticeable is my ongoing love of the outdoors. My family has moved to Moab, UT, where our “backyard” is limitless! Whether I’m hiking, biking, or rafting, I carry this scar as a reminder of my mortality. I’ve received many more wounds from these activities, but I haven’t let that deter me from adventure.

Grandma's Hands

Last week the Hazlett's grandma, Betty Hazlett, died. Ivy wrote this beautiful poem about her:

When I was little, I wondered what happened

to Grandma's withered hands.

They were wrinkled and shaky, and seemed so, so frail

but time helped me understand

that a life full of love takes a toll on one's hands

and wrinkles are merely the signs

of loving support, of change and of work

of lives touched and intertwined.

Those hands soothed a baby time and again,

they created soft blankets and things for a friend.

They were gifted with cooking good things to eat:

Slush, okra, grits, and other tasty treats.

We all loved Thanksgiving at Grandma's place

thought her hands played Shanghai with cunning grace.

She was proud and warm when applauding a child

but cool hands detected a temperature mild.

Those hands finished puzzles 1,000 pieces strong

and helped little fingers put things where they belong.

Now Grandma's hands no longer shake-

her failing body's gone

Now her hands hold those she's missed

for so very long.

Although her wrinkles are smoothed at last,

I know this is for sure:

No one will forget Grandma's hands

and her love that is so pure.

~Ivy Hazlett~

Conversation with Matthew

The other day Matthew (my 5 year old brother), started talking to me about my birthday (in another 5 months). He said, “Maybe I’ll get you a movie, like Wall-e or Star Wars. How much money is a movie?”
“I dunno, 10 bucks?”
“Oh. Well, Mom can get the movie and I’ll wrap it.”
Joseph chimed in, “You’re not supposed to tell him what you’re going to get him for his birthday Matthew,” Matthew gave me an embarrassed glance and commented, “Oh, yeah. Well, you’ll forget – won’t you Christopher?”
“Uh huh.” I say. A few moments later he asked, “What am I going to get you for your birthday?” I say with mock confusion, “I don’t know…”
“A movie! Remember?”
“You’re not supposed to tell me!”
“Oh yeah, oops.”

Kings Peak

The second day of our backpacking trip, Joe and I decided to climb Kings Peak, the highest peak in Utah at 13,528 ft. From our camp it was 10.5 miles, so we started at 4:45 a.m. the next day. We sped up to Anderson Pass, the base of the mountain, in about 5 hours!



From there to the peak was another 6,348 ft, and the trail disappeared into huge boulders we had to scramble. At the top we rewarded ourselves with a freeze-dried ice cream bar and 2 chocolate Reisens.

On the way back, we were sore and exhausted. Joe's like, "I know how we hiked here so fast. It was the oatmeal we ate for breakfast. I had three packs of that stuff." I looked up and grinned. "I had five." Later we stopped to take a look at Joe's foot, it was killing him (he forgot the insoles to his hiking boots). As he peeled off his sock he yelled in pain. You can see why:

At the end of the video, it's shaking because I'm laughing so hard.

We rolled into camp at around 4:30 p.m. after hiking 21 miles, and I didn't even bother to take off my stinky sweaty clothes. I crashed until it started raining later that night. Despite being very strenuous, it was one of the funnest hikes I've been on.

Backpacking

The first week of August our priest group went backpacking in the High Uintahs. We hiked about 7 miles to Bear Lake, where we camped.

Logan, me, Toby, Greg, and Joe.

Moon-set and sunrise over Bear Lake.

The fishing was terrible, we only caught 2 "32 oz" trout in 4 days.

The second day Toby and I climbed this. Don't pay attention to the dates on the pictures. :P

I wanted to climb it mostly for the huge snowdrifts at the top.

Mexico

There is way too much stuff to type about my trip to Mexico, so I'll just post a couple pictures and videos. If you want more info, see my Facebook album.

In Tulum. Gorgeous beach, huh?

Body surfing baby!

Backflipping at a senote. It was 180 ft. deep and had little black catfish swimming around.

Piramide de Luna in Teotihuacan.

This was at the Shrine of Our Lady Guadalupe.

Catching an iguana.

Camping at Onion Creek

Last week Jed, Jimmy, and I camped out at Onion Creek to keep an eye on 20+ boats for the daily the next day. It started raining, and we didn't have a tent or anything, so Jed came up with a brilliant idea. We leaned two paddle boats on each other, strapped 'em together, and put a tarp over the top!

Then we slid two duckies in there, deflated them a little bit and slept in them.

We slept high and dry, and very comfortable!

Memorial Day

It rained so hard Memorial Day that Ivy and I floated a duckie down 400 North! Later Jed and I went speeding through huge puddles in a truck. :D