Memory Lane - Squaw Peak hike

While I was in Utah a few weeks ago, I told my brother Scot that we had to go up to a little park near the mouth of Rock Canyon in Provo.

I stop by this spot every time I visit Provo.

Back in July 1997, I went on a blind date with another couple and we went on a fairly robust hike that started in Rock Canyon and took us up to the top of the Squaw Peak (7876 feet elevation). Now, I've never been quite sure which part is the actual peak, but this was the area where couples do not go up and park the car. The area we hiked actually had a traill most of the way, mountain meadows and a few tough rocky spots. However, we made it to the top and were located in the area that is almost exactly above my head in the picture.

The view was obviously incredible, but the amazing part is that we forgot how dangerous the front of the mountain looks from the ground. This is not a little mountain. The look from the ground can be deceiving as well. From our view it looked like you could descend down the front of the mountain through natural little trails and somehow arrive at Stephen Covey's home. Or, at least I've been told that is his home (the white house that sits highest on the mountain in the picture and has 6-7 fireplaces).

Anyway, the other couple said they were going to go down the mountain the way we had come and my date and I decided to race them by going down the front of the mountain. We didn't have a bad feeling and started to descend. It was around 5 or 6 p.m. at night. At first we were fine winding down, but then we got to some parts where you had to jump down 3-4 feet to get to the next layer of ground. Then there were little gravely areas that we had to pass over instead of slide down because the end of the gravel slide would be a 30-40 foot cliff.

We followed in this pattern until about 9 p.m. when we arrived at a spot where we could find no possible way to go down. We were surrounded by 30 to 40 foot cliff drops. My date thought maybe we should try to go down one of them and I said absolutely not. It was further down than it actually looked. We knelt and said a prayer and then decided we could do nothing that evening and so we just laid on a little ledge and talked, semi-slept and talk and semi-slept, etc. We were surprisingly calm considering the situation. Below we could see a big party taking place at the Covey house and we could see police cars over near the Rock Canyon parking lot, but no yelling would help. After all, when you are thousands of feet above them...the voice doesn't really carry. You are really alone.

After a long cool night, it started to get light and we decided we had to go back the way we came - except now we were going up instead of down. This meant that every place we had jumped down, we had to climb back up! Now, I'm afraid of heights, but for some reason I was calm. He helped me get up over those 3-4 foot drops and we kept climbing away until we got to a spot near the top of the mountain where we literally had to hold on to huge weeds to pull us up the last 20-30 feet of the mountain.
When we were about 4-5 feet from the top of the mountain, we saw rescue crews spread across the top of the mountain and they were yelling in mega phone that they could see us.
Whew! All of a sudden all of these three wheelers appeared and they were popping candy into our mouths. I guess we hadn't had anything to drink or eat in over 12 hours and so they said it would help with the blood sugar. Finally, one of them said - what did you think you were doing? Yes, what were we doing. We explained about how we didn't realize how bad it was and thanked them for helping us.

They then informed us that we were the 11th and 12th persons that had been rescued from that area that year AND that 8 of them had been dead rescues! Few lived through this experience!
At that point I actually began to shake for the first time on the entire excursion. The reality of what I had been through came to bear...and thank goodness it hadn't even 1/2 an hour earlier because it would have prevented me from getting up those parts of the mountain where one panicked moment would have taken my life.

So, I guess this explains why I don't care much for hiking and have no need to prove my skills in repelling or mountain climbing. It also helps to pay respect to the mountain each time I go to Utah. It's a reminder that sometimes we need to use our head and not just follow the heart.

Some of us have only one chance to conquer a mountain and I feel like that was mine.
I still have anxiety when I think about that event and even had a nightmare about it before my trip. And, I still have a deep sense of gratitude for being spared from a horrible experience or from leaving this life.

P.S. The great part of this story is the fact that a few years later, in Pentagon City, we were having a "Cupid Passover Party" and a friend of mine told a story about a couple that got lost and had to be rescued on a mountain while on a blind date. As the story unfolded I realized that I was the woman in that couple she was talking about - small, small world!

P.S.S. Note - the newspaper article stated they rescued us, but remember -they found us on the last 4-5 feet of the mountain and we were at the top when they actually got to us. Love the news!