In August of 2011 my friends, including my older brother Curtis, and I packed up and prepared for a backpacking trip. We mapped out our destination to the Sawtooth mountain range in Idaho with our youth group leaders.
When we arrived we were blown away by the beautiful mountains that we would be spending almost a week in. Little did we know what was ahead of us. Our first day of the hike we primarily went through desolate stretches of sagebrush in 85 degree weather. It was one of the hottest days of the year for that mountain range. We climbed up in elevation as we marched the first 9 miles that day. Our 50 lb packs felt heavier and heavier as the trek moved on. Toward the end of the hike we entered into the shade of towering evergreens. It hit me then that there was absolutely no sign of life or civilization for miles around, not even cabins or dirt roads, just the trail and the rustic Sawtooth mountains. We followed the trail until we finally made it to a crystal clear blue lake of glacier run off. My best friend, Nick, dropped his pack immediately and laid on top of a boulder as if it was a king size mattress. I knew he was acting strange but it wasn't until later that we realized he probably had high-altitude sickness.
The next few days weren't near as bad. We were blessed with the majestic scenery. I won't ever forget what it felt like sitting on top of an ice cold glacier on an 80 degree day, it was really bizarre that the ice there had remained frozen for hundreds of years. Our trail must have passed by a dozen of these crystal clear glacier lakes each one with its own name to describe it. We passed Hatchet Lake, Noisy Lake, Quiet Lake, and Boulder Lake just to name a few.
On the second to last day on the trail we hit our trial, it was a mountain pass called the Windy Devil. I stood in the midst of 14-18 year old young men looking up at the perilous mountain. If the steepness and the height of the mountain wasn't enough to scare us, there was a point where which we were to cross over a glacier. One wrong step and we would have slid down the icy slope into the jagged rocks at the bottom. I like to imagine that all of us there was as nervous as I was, but none of us was ever going to admit we were scared. We just all looked up at the peak that reached into the sky at over 10,000 feet elevation. We climbed the mountain sometimes with all fours on the rock face. Our heavy packs on our backs made the climb that much harder. It felt as if my pack was trying to pull me off the mountain. When we hit the ice we would kick foot-holes into it and very cautiously take it one step at a time making sure that our footholds would, in fact hold. After what seemed like an hour, we made it to the top.
Our vision now could see over the chain of crystal clear lakes. The sight was just that much better from the top of the mountain. The hike was dangerous and hard, but definitely worth it.
At times on my mission I reflect on what I learned that week in the Sawtooth mountain range. Sometimes my companion and I (or our friends that we visit) feel as if we have our weights on our back holding us back. Sometimes we can only take things one step at a time, and we might even be crawling on our hands and feet. The most important thing I learned is that will always be worth it in the end as long as we keep moving.
