Part Four, Steven's Reaction and the Dark Winter

Part four, the finale.

It was a couple hours before I heard back from Steven.  He didn’t text back, he called. “You did what?”  he asked. 

“Okay, Steven, you know me, and you know how long I have been looking for it.  This is just it. You’ll see.” 

“I can’t believe you just bought a house.  How much was it?  What did you like about it?” 

I could picture him, shaking his head, hand over his eyes. 

“I guess you’ll have to see what you think when you get here.  I’m sure we could find some way to get out of it if we needed to, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.” 

When he finally got to meet our new home in person he agreed, tentative, that it was the right thing to do.  Most of his apprehension came from knowing what had to happen next. 

The weeks after were filled with painting and cleaning; explaining how we found the house and giving notice to church members.  The first two months were filled with confidence, reassurance and excitement. 

However, after the old house had two offers fall through and we started working on renting or lease optioning it, things started to cloud over. 

Our first month at our new ward went wonderfully.  We were welcomed heartily in to the new ward and given callings the second week.  However, after the second month, we felt abandoned by ward members, both here and in our old ward. 

There were some circumstances surrounding a boy our oldest daughter was dating and how we were handling it that some people I had considered friends spoke harshly and mocked our actions.   I was introduced to the lesson of allowing others to judge and talk about you based on their limited perspective, and praying to be able to forgive.   I didn’t feel valued in my old neighborhood…and I felt isolated in my new one. 

I trudged forward, trying to deal evenly with both the stress of two house payments and feeling mocked by friends.  I dug into scriptures, listened to encouraging conference talks in the middle of sleepless nights, and begged for mercy and help. 

I knew that if I wasn’t given immediate reprieve in the form of a successful offer on our Springville house, or a kind phone call from a supportive friend, I was going to have to muster all my faith and strength until the Lord was finishing testing me. 

I found solace in the mild, wet winter.   My amazing view stayed green all winter excepting for the foot of snow we got as a Christmas gift.  I was able to wander the hills and ponder and pray.  I felt totally alone, my only reprieve was pushing my limits as I tramped from one end of my new mountain home to the other.  I saw deer a plenty, curious grazing horses, turkeys, songbirds by the tens and hundreds, and I grew closer to my Heavenly Father as I wrestled with the why and how of my situation. 

I was not alone in my struggles.  Steven’s spirits fell as he built his new life in a ward that could barely remember his name.  The kids struggled making friends with kids who were comfortable in their childhood relationships. 

My daughter, Sage,  in her senior year felt the weight of being judged, of high school rumors and slander.  Icy stares and jagged comments pelted her in the halls as she made her way to classes she was required to attend in order to graduate. 

 Most mornings I sat at her bedside, coaxing her out of her safe blue duvet cocoon.  “I can’t go back there today.” She moaned, and hid her head in her pillow. I suffered with her, not wanting to send her back to the bitter environment she dreaded. 

I got a job.  It was a tender mercy.  Financial woes were eased.  New friends and encouragement reentered my otherwise bleak existence; an escape from the constant pounding of isolation. 

With renewed energy, Sage and I worked with the high school counselor.  We changed her schedule around, talked through challenges, worked with teachers to make up missed assignments.   Things were looking up.

In March, six months after we moved, we got a solid offer on the house.  The strain of waiting and wondering ended. 

The rumors ebbed and Sage made two new friends, good girls who built her up and supported her.  I’m sure they don’t know how big a blessing they were at a key time in Sage’s life.

I remember vividly, walking through the meat section of our local market talking to Steven about what masters degree I should pursue, and I had a vision, a godbreeze, an epiphany.  I could see that I was trading my writing career for a ten dollar an hour job. 

I loved my job.  I was on a good track to moving upward and advancing with my knowledge of the different systems we used at the office but I knew in one short instance, what I needed to do. 

So.  Since last March I have written my first practice novel, finished the 50000 word NaNoWriMo challenge, self published a children’s Christmas story for my mother, and I am on my way.  God keeps putting resources for education and encouragement in my writing interest.  There must be something out there I am supposed to write.  And I’m excited about all the mistakes I get to make on the way. 

Ogden Valley, Eden, Liberty and Huntsville, Utah

Ogden Valley - A Sweet Surprise

I'm taking a break from the heavy life story.  I want to tell you about a new discovery that came in the form of a Christmas present from my husband, Steven.  

Steven got me a night at a bed and breakfast, the Snowberry Inn, and a day of cross country skiing, in Eden, Utah.  

As we rounded the meandering curves of the mellow Odgen canyon road, I was warmed by the flickering yellow lights from the cozy creek side homes and businesses.  

It wasn't many miles before we reached the straight, concrete dam, the cause of the quaint three fingered reservoir that looked like a blank flat mass in the dark. 

The captivating decor of the rustic log cabin spoke to my soul.  The outdated skis, the bleached out horns on the bullhead etched with a cowboy scene, the skewed lines of chinking in natural stained logs, all told stories of history, roots, and adventure.  

I was immediately drawn to the free map from the cabinet holding several advertisements disguised as information.  I unfolded the three foot by two foot map and laid it on the denim duvet cover on our bed and beheld the expanse of outdoor opportunity. 

"They have three ski resorts here, Steven!  ...and a lake...and hiking trails...and....and....look at all the cross country skiing."  My mind exploded with possibilities.  Was this valley I'd heard so little of, a contender for the outdoor enthusiast capitol of Utah?  

"Look at the these hiking trails!  and Bike lanes?  ...and ...is there a campground in the middle of town?  What is this place?"  

We huddled under the covers as it was a bit chilly still.  The inn owner must have been delinquent in turning on the heat for the day and those large logs were wont to give up their cool temperatures. 

 I spread the map between us under the covers and started calculating our ski plan for the morning. "I want to do two smaller loops, one at each of the two cross country areas." I told a softly snoring Steven.  

"Hey!"  I hit him on the shoulder, "where do you want to go first?" 

He struggled to open his eyes. "Wha..?" He looked at the map on the sheets. "Oh, where do you want to go?"  and turned back to his slumber.

"Let's do North Fork Park first.  It's run by a nordic organisation, its probably really good."  I didn't wait for his reply. "Then Snow Basin.  They are free and it looks nice.  I wonder how big that one is..."  

I chattered until I could no longer wake Steven then I folded up the map, rolled out of bed and brushed my teeth. I could hardly wait to see what these new areas looked like.  ...a quiet rural tract overflowing with successful and affordable outdoor activities?  I was amazed at the concept. 

We got up around eight, enjoyed our bed and breakfast style fare...a personal size dish with cream eggs and hashbrowns, fresh berries, thick bacon cooked not too crispy, and gluten free toast washed down with four teeny juice glasses of legit hand squeezed orange juice and one hot chocolate.  I couldn't think of a better way to start off our adventure.  

We packed up our gear and headed to North Fork Park.  I stretched out my neck to take in as much of this new valley as I could.  The rolling snow covered hills. The small farms and occasional giant newer estates, they all oozed with character, pumping me full of enthusiasm for my upcoming glide among the oaks.  

When we arrived at North Fork Park, we were amused by the unforeseen crowd.  It was their annual Nordic Festival.   Volunteer parking attendants motioned us through the three bulbed parking lot and squeezed us in between a Subaru and a small SUV, both with ski racks and owners in neon and black leotards.  

We got out of our car, Steven wearing his off brand Tevas and I in my skinny jeans and tennis shoes, we felt a bit out of place. 

 We poked around the small event cluster and ducked into the yurt hoping to find information on a quiet trail.  The Yurt was full of equipment renters and volunteers.  

We managed to catch the attention of one of the helpful volunteers and got the info we needed. We immediately returned to our car and drove off in the direction of the "Environmental Center." Where we were told there would be only a few skiers and a nice loop. 

Upon arrival at the Environmental Center, we were a bit confused as it shared a parking lot with an LDS church camp and the only outlet was a "service road only."   We put on our skis and headed up the service road.  We passed several signs "Zions Camp, Nauvoo, Wasatch.."  it was a quiet little place and we chatted about what girls camp must be like there.  

About three quarters of a mile up the road we found the Environmental Center.  It was obviously no longer owned by the LDS church.  Trail names turned from religious to natural "butterfly trail" style names.  

We skied the short loop and returned to the parking lot, never seeing anything but the lone track of a single skate skier that had taken the loop some time before us. 

"Well that was fun.  I'm so glad we got to experience North Fork Park!"  I exclaimed to Steven. 

"And we left the crowd back at the main gate."  he replied.  

"Lets drive around the lake to get to Snow Basin.  I have to see this valley." I directed.

We continued winding past small hobby farms, old country homes, and seventies style split level residences.   "This would be the perfect place for a family cabin."  I told Steven.  "It has activites for all seasons.  Water and hiking and biking for spring, summer and fall; and downhill and nordic skiing, as well as snowshoeing for winter.   Let's see what they have for services."  

"There's a Subway."  I craned my neck to see what else was in the miniature shopping center with the sandwich shop. "A bank, a dentist...not bad."  

We wound farther around the lake.  "Another Subway...and maybe that's a little cafe, I can't tell."  

We left the valley area and drove up what I affectionately named the "Hells Backbone of the Ogden Valley" toward Snow Basin.  It was only a quick fifteen or so miles to the resort. Once again, there were event signs posted and parking attendants, people everywhere.  

"We're going to have to park on the road,"  said Steven. 

 After accosting two parking attendants we finally came to what seemed to be a full parking lot.  However, they must save some spaces for us self propelled types because when we rolled down our window and asked the third parking attendant where the Nordic center was, he said "Right here, go around the loop one more time and I'll park you right there." 

I need to cut this short as it is getting late.  I will summarize that the skiing at Snow Basin was scenic, groomed, uncrowded except we could have done without so many dog tracks but it didnt' slow us down, and it was all free.  We were in wonder and amazement that the resort would groom the trails so well and let us and the snowshoers, and the walkers and the sledders and pretty much anyone use the area...for free.  It was truly a valuable discovery. 

For Apres skiing, we drove in to Huntsville, a darling town with actual blocks and a small city park with a makeshift ice rink.

We enjoyed the two piece meat plate at a barbecue place in the middle of a quaint shopping square, all decked out in wood and newly built old west style. I was in love.  

I have to stop writing now, I will end with the statement that I have got to get back to Ogden Valley in summer and see what it's like then.  I am enamored with its winter season. 

Part Three, finding my place.

Part Three (sorry, not the last.)

As I sit here at my dining room table and watch the skittish wild  turkeys trying to decide if they dare come close to the house or if they should flee at my presence,  I acknowledge that you all know the end to this story.  It must be in the making of the end where the interest lies.  I will go forward in that respect. 

It seems like it was a lot longer than the months between August and October that this transpired, but it really did only take about four weeks to find our place. 

We had some ambivalence while trying to find our new home.  We didn’t want to call attention to our move until we had the effectual bird in the hand.  Neither did we want to own two homes at once. We couldn’t see how we could make a clean getaway if we listed first and sold right away and had nowhere to go. 

We prepared our existing home to list for sale while we were searching for a new one.  We looked in to rental companies, lease option contracts and how our budget could survive a few months with two house payments. 

We fasted and prayed for direction.  Knowing we were about to turn our lives upside down, possibly more so for the kids than for Steven and I, was hard to swallow.  We wanted to make sure we were making the right decision.

One Sunday afternoon, Steven and I drove up Hobble Creek canyon to admire the mountain scenery. We found ourselves near a small older neighborhood and decided to take a spin through the single loop drive.

At the back of the loop we saw a house that we could only describe as a dream come true.  It was a modular cabin looking affair on an expansive green lawn, framed with tall trees, and it had a creek running along the back of the property.  It was a for sale by owner deal so we jotted down the phone number and drove down the canyon to where we could get cell service and call.

We called the owner and the house was at the anxious top of our price range but we still agreed to meet with him the next Wednesday. 

I’m not sure why I’m telling you so much about this house.  We loved it, and it would have been a fine home for our family.  However, after two attempts at making offers on the place, we felt we just couldn’t go as high as the owner was asking.  We took a rest from trying. 

In the meantime, Steven was on a business trip to California, or Colorado, I can’t remember where, but he was gone.   Either I had found a home online, or our dear neighbor and friend Realtor extraordinaire, Alan Lew called and apprised me of the new listing. It was actually an older listing that had gone under contract and failed so it was being relisted at a lower price. 

I had seen the home earlier but had never pursued it.  The price had been too high and I couldn’t see how we could afford it. 

Within I’m sure under an hour, I had Alan following me twenty miles away to see the new place. 

The showing was a bit unusual.  Usually the owner leaves when a buyer comes to see a home.  At this one, the sweet older lady, who I soon found out was mother to my sibling’s friends out in Spring Lake, answered the door…and didn’t appear to have any intention of leaving. 

We greeted each other and she showed us in to the home.  I took three steps into the entryway and I knew I had found my place.  There was clutter and outdated paint and fixtures.  The kitchen and dining area had old formica counter tops and an atrocious chandelier, but what I saw was a high vaulted ceiling with giant picture windows displaying the massive bowl of Payson Canyon and all its foothills. 

What I saw was the beautifully finished downstairs apartment where our married children could live while they attend school. 

What I saw was a quaint front living room that invited guests to stay and chat. 

What I saw was a grove of oak trees, ready to be trimmed into a grove for children to play among. 

I was sure I had finally found the place I had been searching for for seven years. 

I had to be satisfied I wasn’t making a rash decision so I went home and arranged for my two daughters to come look at three homes in the surrounding area and get their feedback. 

The next day the girls and I bolted through one house in Woodland Hills that had no apartment but a kind of a bar downstairs for the kids.  It was the nicest, newly remodeled of the three.  

Then on to a nice farm house closer to the middle of the tiny community.  It had many bedrooms, a big apartment for the kids, a smaller yard, and a lot of work to be done.  It also lacked a view. 

The girls were excited about everything we had seen so far.  I was beginning to worry that we would never make a decision. 

Then we pulled in to the driveway of our place.   As we entered the home, the girls saw past the clutter and the golden doorknobs and they saw it too. 

They squealed at the apartment, and hugged the hot tub. They wrinkled their noses at the outdated kitchen, then they flitted from room to room already bantering over who got to sleep where.

  On the way home, their energetic chatter confirmed my feelings.  We had found our place. 

So I went home, walked across the street to Alan Lew’s home office, and signed an offer for the house. 

Not long after, Alan said the offer was accepted with revisions. We looked over the revisions, signed off, and I signed the contract.

Then I texted Steven:  “We just bought a house.” 

This feels like the end of the post.  There is more to be told.  I suppose that since this is my blog, I can easily edit out that it would be only two entries to cover my life events since my April 2014 post.  So, if you are still interested, I will continue tomorrow.  All are welcome to follow along.  

Part Two, Treatment

Part Two

The specialist called us a few days before my appointment and said he wanted to take my case to a board meeting at the Huntsman Center.  The meeting was the same day we were to leave for Australia. 

I told the doctor about our trip and asked what he advised.  He said though he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with a case like mine (I can’t remember why it was unusual.  It seems like he was looking for input on what the treatment should be, if any) I shouldn’t be worried and I should make my appointment after my trip. 

…do they teach doctors to be blatantly contradictory in med school?  Because “don’t worry, we’re not sure what to do with your cancer treatment go ahead and call me after your six week travels,”  fits right along with “relax in those stirrups while I stick this metal object in places we don’t talk about” and “Congratulations on having triplets, now don’t lift anything over five pounds.”

Anyway, I was recovering well from my surgery and felt good enough to at least travel and observe, if not to participate in most activities on our trip. 

We enjoyed Rotorua’s hot springs, the LDS temple and glow worm caves near Hamilton,  the drive to Wellington past Mount Doom,  the ferry ride through the channel amongst the giant massifs of the south island, Kaikoura and its  fish and chips, overland walk, and baby fur seals, and witnessing the earthquake damage in Christchurch.

We saw the Sidney Opera house, attended the Sydney temple, played and shopped at Bondi Beach, and took a thousand steps to the bottom of the blue mountain crevasses. 

We watched hundreds of penguins march onto shore at dusk, burnt two large batches of Kangaroo stew, fortunately not torching the modern vacation cottages we were lucky enough to secure in the off season. 

We were hosted in Tasmania by a young adult ward and hiked down to Wineglass bay, playing with the silent little wallabies in the parking lot as we waited for those who chose to take the longer trail. 

We flew to the deep red desert at Ayers Rock where we hiked around the famous Aboriginal monument, hiked the very southern Utah like Kings Canyon, and rode camels. 

After Ayers Rock, we flew to Cairns where we camped in tiny cabins in town, shopped at the Saturday market, scuba and snorkel dived the Great Barrier Reef, and got pictures holding a Koala Bear. 

We ended our trip in Fiji where we witnessed a massive sugar cane fire across the street from our hotel; attended the temple and Sunday Services where my youngest son got to pass the sacrament for the first time.  We shopped in the mixed Fijian/Indian cultured shopping district; flew in three separate small planes to the island of Kadavu and were taken by boat to the Papageno Resort where we slept in lush burres on our own private beach in the jungle.  

We scuba and snorkeled again then took a couple kayak runs from the resort and after two nights and one roasted pig, we kayaked to Ono Island where we stayed in a native village.  The memory of the children singing and dancing for us, their energy, their shyness, their full voiced, whole hearted perfect harmony, is burned forever in my heart. 

Along the way, I recall a thorough gratitude as I watched my children snuggled in hammocks on the beach; as I stood by Steven’s side announcing the activities of the day; when I stressed out, not knowing the buses shut down at six pm on Saturdays, how to find rides  for twenty four people to our lodging in Sydney; while I held hands with Jeff, flashing a thumbs up as we floated atop the waters of the Great Barrier Reef, hundreds of colorful fish putting on a show below.

Having  the constant reminder about my health deepened the intensity of my experience.  I got to take a step out of normalcy and deliberate each person I got to interact with, every expanse of new scenery I was able to behold, every special moment I was enjoying with my family.  My heart was full. 

Upon returning home I had a few days to recover from jetlag and possible parasites from the sweet Fijian’s home cooked food. 

I remember pulling in to the hospital parking lot, riding the elevator to the cancer floor.  As I stepped into the office I was struck with the reality that I was there, for my own diagnosis.  I wasn't totally convinced I was having the whole cancer experience but I was still standing there, looking at the nurse at the desk, being a cancer patient.  

 Out of respect for their privacy, I tried hard to avoid making eye contact with the others in the waiting room.  Would I be battling nausea, baldness, grief?  Were they?  I wanted to see into their lives,  my heart went out to them.  I wanted to send them comfort for whatever they were experiencing. 

 I realized I had been given the chance to witness a limited inside view into the life of a cancer patient because, after the nurses took my vitals and the doctor asked a bunch of questions and poked around a little, I was told the best treatment would be to watch and wait.  They said I looked good and they were pretty sure they had gotten everything. 

I walked out of the doctor’s office a little hesitant to celebrate but relieved at the prognosis.  I was grateful for the chance to see life through new eyes, for not having to go through chemo or radiation. 

I was glad I didn’t tell too many people.  I would have felt like I had to apologize for not having to go through the treatment.  It was easy to feel like a fake, but I’ll take that guilt.

Still, to this day, when I have a strange pain, or an unusual health concern, there is that nagging question, did the cancer come back? 

Stay tuned for part three:  Finding "my place,"  enduring the long dark winter of discontent, the awakening, and tender mercies all around. 

The Past Two Years, One Step at a Time

What changed? 

I really like talking about myself.  Sometimes (more than I care to admit) I can talk (or write) too much.  However, the events of the past two years have been life changing and I want to share them with you.   This is your warning, skip this post if you aren’t up to reading about major life experiences right now.  I will still love you. 

My last post was in April 2014.  In May 2014, Steven and I traveled to New York City, Greenwich Connecticut, Hudson, Massachusetts, and Acadia Maine.   We saw “Wicked” on Broadway, we visited with his sister and mine, we kayaked an inlet near Kennebunk, and we laughed in the rain as we biked through a wicked rain storm in Acadia National Park. 

Steven is a university professor.  We had the chance to organize and take a study abroad trip to Australia, New Zealand and Fiji.   I was excited to plan and carry out all the details of the dream trip our family would be able to participate in.  

Unfortunately, I had some medical issues that were greatly hindering my ability to participate in almost any physical activity. 

I was conflicted about using surgery to fix the problem because I had always had been of the mind that you don’t just rip out an organ because it’s not working correctly.  I tried everything I knew to heal the issues and they weren’t changing.  Finally I relented and scheduled surgery.  It was to happen the week after we arrived home from New England. 

The surgery was carried out in one 23 hour stay, and I went home to heal. It was perhaps the easiest surgery I had experienced so far, as my only others were the four c-sections bringing my children into the world; and I was delighted with my timely recovery.

After about a week, I got a phone call from the doctor’s office.  They wanted to schedule a time when I could speak directly with my doctor.   I had never experienced such a call.  I hung up and wondered what was happening.  It was a couple hours, or maybe even a day or two later that I was finally able to connect with my physician. 

“We found cancer in the tissue we removed.  It was in the early stages so there’s not a lot to worry about.   I want you to make an appointment with the specialist at the clinic and they can decide on your treatment plan.”  

I hung up the phone in a fog of disbelief.  “He said it was in the early stages and I shouldn’t be concerned. So I won’t be.” I thought to myself. 

I debated on how to tell Steven.  If the doctor said it was not a big deal, I certainly didn’t want to worry Steven about it.  I knew that once the “C” word was thrown out there, he could be very upset, especially since he had lost his mother to the disease only two months earlier. 

My mind raced, “a treatment plan? Would I have to have chemo?  How serious is “not very serious?”” 

I tried to remain calm and I knew I needed to tell Steven something.  I called him and prayed he would not be upset. 

Steven got quiet after I spat out my news.  “The doctor said it was only stage one and it would probably be no problem.” 

We discussed whether our dream trip, scheduled to commence at the end of June would be realistic.  We decided to go forward as normal and wait to see what the specialist had to say. 

While waiting to see the specialist I had the chance to see my life in a very different perspective.  What if it was more serious than they thought?  What if it was nothing?  Who should I tell?  Why would I tell anyone? 

The specialist appointment was two weeks after the initial phone call.  At one point in those two weeks I was struck with a thought that puzzled me.  For the past seven years, my only need in life was to find “my place.”  The day we moved in to our house in Springville, Utah, I had the distinct feeling that something about the place needed changing.  I had found a wonderful home in a perfect family neighborhood.  We had the chance to get to know almost every family in every home within a half mile radius of our home.  However, for seven years I looked around my home and neighborhood, trying to figure out why I felt I was not yet where I belonged. 

When Steven and I first discussed my discontent, we decided to give it three years to see if the feeling went away.  I was determined to bloom where I was planted and be happy where I was.  I ran for city council and won the majority vote in my precinct, but not overall, but was put directly on the planning commission. 

I joined the PTA and attended legislative meetings and I loved it all.  …But I still felt that yearning for my place. 

After three years, we started looking for that place that would resolve my privation.  We found a beautiful lot at the top of Woodland Hills and we designed our log cabin home.  I was stressed about the cost of the build but we forged forward, fasting and praying and looking for our answer to this problem. 

The housing market crashed.   Our home lost nearly half its value.  We were upside down with equity in our house. We had to wait it out.  I still felt the yearning but I was at peace with letting the mountain lot and log home idea go for now.  I had faith that things would work out. 

A couple years later, before housing prices recovered too much, Steven was asked to be the bishop of our young ward (for those not LDS, a bishop is like a pastor of a neighborhood congregation.)   We walked away from our interview with questions and wonder.  We decided that we would wait one last run of three years and pray to know where to go from there. 

Steven absolutely loved his calling as a bishop.  I would dare say that his ward totally loved him back.  We had chances to serve and love and comfort….it was a joyous chapter in our lives. 

So. May 2014 marked pretty close to the three year mark of Steven’s being a bishop.  At one point, the stake president ( a little like a regional leader, over several congregations in an area) was being replaced and all former and current bishops were being interviewed by a church general authority (GA,one of the big guys who works with the prophet in Salt Lake City.)

When it came Steven’s turn to interview, he took the opportunity to ask the general authority about what we should do concerning my problem of wanting to move and find my place.  The GA’s answer was that we had to do what was best for our family and we shouldn’t feel bad about leaving.  Steven said at that point he felt relieved that he wouldn’t be doing something wrong by turning away from his bishop calling. 

And then we went to Maine, and then I had my surgery…and here we were. 

Dealing with your own mortality, even the slightest chance of your absence, especially as a wife and mother, is an enlightening experience. You look differently at your kids, at petty things that used to bother you, at the possibility you could be absent for a long time.

 You try to prepare and prevent as much pain for your family as possible. You try to make NOW more important than anything else in your life, because even if things work out and you get to stay, you realize that there is nothing ever lost in making every day the best it can be

One day the thought came into my mind  that if something did happen to me and I never found that place I was looking for, Steven was the type that could never forgive himself.  I knew things would probably be okay, but that mental picture of my husband with yet another burden was the last straw. 

 It was time for me to start making life happen now.  

It's Been a While

Hey Folks,

It's been almost two years since my last post.  I can't explain exactly why I stopped blogging.  Maybe it was the intensity of planning a trip for 24 to Australia, New Zealand and Fiji; maybe it was major surgery and a life examing diagnosis, maybe it was the move in October 2014.  I suppose it doesn't really matter why I stopped, what matters is I have been bagging tons of new stuff; new places, new ideas...I can't wait to share it all!

I'll keep it simple and hopefully easy to read.  Sticking with the main theme of my title, fitting the outside in, I will tell you about my hiking group.

I was spending fall break at Snowbird and I took my thirteen year old son and his friend, Garrett, on the trail to Cecret Lake.   The sign to Cecret Lake says the trail is a half mile and gains two hundred feet.  When I read it I was perplexed.  It seemed like the last time I hiked it, the trail was a bit steep, and much longer than a half mile.  I shrugged and motioned for the boys to follow me.  If I remember right, my son was wearing flip flops, we had two water bottles to share, and maybe some trail mix in a day pack.

The first quarter mile we stopped near a group of around six women.  The hike was a steady steep trail and all of us became winded enough to want a short rest and a drink of water.  I asked the women if they were from Utah and they said they were from northern Utah County for the most part.  They told me they had created a hiking group of mothers who could hike primarily during school hours.

The group piqued my interest.  They left first.  My boys weren't quite ready to stop resting.

When my boys were ready to continue on the trail, they went another quarter mile and we passed the hiking group on the way.  It may have been only the one straggler from the group we kept frog jumping with.  We would pass her, she would pass us, we her, her us...after a couple of those passings, I struck up a continued conversation with Terri.  It didn't take long for Terri and I to make a connection that my sister in law in Lehi used to babysit her twins.

I was so happy to make a connection with Terri.  As soon as I felt I could be trusted and no longer a stranger on the trail, I asked Terri if they were accepting new participants in their hiking group.  Terri said yes and we exchanged information.  A couple weeks later I was added to a facebook group and i was officially part of a moms with school kids hiking group.   I was not only happy to find other women to hike with during school hours, I was excited about the prospect of discovering trails in Northern Utah County.

After taking about six weeks to figure out that these Mommas were no casual hikers, they hiked two to three times a week and if I wanted to be a part of them, I had to jump on that merry go round and give it a try.

I was anxious about not hiking fast enough, or having the same stamina, or the right clothing or footwear, as these serious ladies so it took me a few attempts at accepting the challenge to leave for Alpine, Utah after dropping my son off at school, and being ready for who knows what kind of hike up American Fork Canyon, but I did it.

I met with Michele, who I have recently learned is the main organizer and encourager of the group.  Nobody else could make it the day we went, so it was just her and I.  Michele was a boat load of fun and encouragement.  We went on a perfect hike, a  little icy, where she shared one of her shoe spikes with me, to a makeshift cabin about a mile and a half up the trail.  We had a pleasant chat about our families and careers and I was home by noon.  I went away with confidence that I was a valuable part of the group, that my gear was acceptable (I owned a pair of yaktrax, I just didn't realize how useful they would be, especially in fall) and these ladies were all right.


Please post about something you would like me to talk about.  I absolutely love helping people plan outdoor adventures so don't be shy.

Short Weekend Getaways in Utah

My brother, Dallas, requested a post about weekend getaways within a couple hours' drive of Utah County. 

Romance is definitely in the eye of the beholder.  Some may think of a romantic getaway as a night in a themed bed and breakfast, while others a night under the stars, for this post, I will stick with affordable, bed and breakfasty stops.

Since my husband works a consulting job in southern Utah, near Bryce Canyon, I will focus on that area.  I welcome posts adding other areas. 

Panguitch:

I have stayed in the quintessential small town bed and breakfast many nights in Panguitch.  Panguitch is a two and a half to three hour drive from Provo.  We tried staying in some of the smaller motor inn style motels in town when Steven first started working in the area.  We found drab bedding, stale smells, and generally, a not very romance inspiring stay.  

After a few shots at finding an acceptable motel in our 75-100 dollar range (and most there are clean, not fancy)  we came upon the  Panguitch House Bed and Breakfast.  http://www.panguitchhousebandb.com/

We stayed there last night and Kim's breakfasts are still just the right mix of fancy, healthy, and yum.  

Our breakfast was an individual quiche type dish with potato, egg, cheese; Steven had two huge pieces of texas toast; and we both got a small parfait of yogurt and fresh strawberries, along with a goblet of orange juice. 

Our room was "Peachy" and has an ensuite bathroom with a shower. The owners have stayed with the historic theme, with patchwork or country style quilts with European duvets for winter weather, but have added a small flat screen TV tucked away in a wardrobe style entertainment center, dish tv and free wifi included.  

The mountain view room as a claw foot tub if you are looking for the truly antique experience.  

From Panguitch you can drive to Panguitch Lake, Brian Head, and Duck Creek.  The summer wildflowers are inspiring; the fall leaves are as well, and the views from Cedar Breaks National Monument are breathtaking.  

There is also some good liftserved and non lift served mountain biking in this area.  http://brianhead.com/summer/mountain-biking/

Duck Creek

We have also tried a few nights at the Pinewoods Resort at Duck Creek (http://pinewoodsresort.com/ looks like they have changed owners since last fall, a few changes happening..), at the top of Cedar Mountain.  

Duck Creek is one of my favorite mountain getaways.  We got to know it well in 1994 when Steven worked a summer job chasing goshawks for the Forest Service.  Duck Creek has several lodging options, most of them very casual and rustic.  

Pinewoods is a very basic resort where we found a clean room, no frills, but surrounded by forest, and a well supported continental breakfast.  

Since this resort has experienced a recent change of owners, here is the duck creek village website with other lodging options:  http://duckcreekvillage.com/lodging.htm  We have stayed at the Alpine Forest Lodge and had a very quaint, clean, rustic room with real wood paneled walls and a french door to the outside.  

You usually have to plan ahead for the lodging in the village as they have a big following out of Las Vegas and book up quickly.  

The best hikes in Duck Creek (if you are not in to ATV rentals and trails) are from the village, take the ATV trail head to Aspen Mirror Lake.  It is a short, half to three quarter mile walk to a pristine mountain lake. 

 Fishing is good there and at Duck Creek pond.  

Bryce Canyon

We have also stayed right at the entrance of Bryce Canyon National Park, both at Rubys Inn http://www.rubysinn.com/ and the new Bryce Canyon Grand Hotel http://www.brycecanyongrand.com/index.html.  

Ruby's Inn is older, rustic, has an indoor pool, and the rooms, last time I stayed, were a bit dated but clean.

  The Grand Hotel, is new, modern, has a great breakfast buffet, and right across the street.  The Grand has an outdoor pool and hot tub and guests can access the indoor pool at Ruby's. Prices from either range from 80 to 200 per night depending on the season and the size of your group.  

The general area has a cute little mock historic main street with store fronts and pony rides.  In summer there is a small rodeo (the international visitors are as fun to watch as the local cowboys and cowgirls), hiking in Bryce Canyon (of course), four wheeler rentals, there used to be a chuckwagon dinner, not sure if it is still around.  

All of these areas are family friendly, it will cost a bit more, of course, but kids are welcome.  

Best easy romantic hikes in Bryce Canyon:  The Navajo Loop thru Wall Street http://www.nps.gov/media/photo/gallery.htm?id=634FBC94-155D-451F-679EB72AA3CF3B42

And Bristlecone loop at Rainbow Point: http://www.nps.gov/media/photo/gallery.htm?id=634FBC94-155D-451F-679EB72AA3CF3B42

Park City, and the Cottonwood Canyons

My latest favorite for finding a good deal for Park City is checking out the KSL deals, last minute travel website https://www.ksl.com/public/deal/lastMinuteTravel.   

The prices in the off season can run from 50 dollars to 365 per night.  We have stayed at the Park City Peaks hotel on the edge of town, and on a scenic walking trail that can take you past a big white barn in a beautiful field at the bottom of a forested hill.  

We also like the Best Western Plus.  We ask for a room by the pool when we have the kids with us because, though it is an indoor pool,  the poolside rooms have a sliding glass door right out to the pool.  They have also had a good sized breakfast included.  

There are nine options on the ksl website, and I have stayed at about half of them.  The Carriage House condos are a mixed bag.  Some units are updated, and others need updating.   The ksl deals site has a two or three week out limit on bookings, it is truly last minute.

Park City has trails and mountain biking and shopping and foods...about everything a couple or family would want.  One recent favorite of our family is the Canyons Ski Resort summer activities.  We rode an enclosed tram car up to mid mountain where we bought a popsicle then rode up a ski lift and took a short walk to a newly built pond.  At the pond you can rent paddle boats or fishing gear by the hour.  Watch out for downhill mountain bikers, they are fun to watch and they go fast! http://www.canyonsresort.com/summer_activities.html

The Park City Mountain Resort also has several activities the kids love.  The Alpine Slide and Coaster, kiddie rides, etc.  http://www.parkcitymountain.com/site/summer/activities

One note about Cottonwood Canyons, Iron Blosam lodge rooms facing south are best.  The pool is only family friendly in summer, and it is small. That said, Iron Blosam and surrounding condos have a stillness and mountain view that I often prefer over the busyness of Park City.  If you stay at Iron Blosam, take a drive up the rest of the canyon and try the Cecret Lake trail http://www.utah.com/hike/cecret-lake-trail.  It begins in the campground and is only a mile and a half round trip.  We saw a moose in the willows when we went a few years ago.http://www.snowbird.com/

You can also hike the Marys Lake trail from Albion Basin to Brighton.  http://www.utah.com/hike/mary-martha-and-catherine-trail.  

One of my favorite trails near Brighton, in the "other" cottonwood canyon, is the Solitude Lake trail.  Talk about a walk through the forest, cool in summer, incredible views, flowers, trees, and we saw two moose, with a great destination.  http://www.utah.com/hike/twin-lakes-and-lake-solitude-trail

Heber/Midway/Sundance

Provo Canyon and Deer Creek offer several getaway options.  

Sundance and Aspen Grove, we have Sundance Lodgings (shoulder season specials bring the prices into realistic ranges for us locals.)   Sundance Activities http://sundanceresort2-px.trvlclick.com/explore/summer.html

BYU owns a lodge at Aspen Grove.  You can get a simple hotel style room for a reasonable price, but there is no restaurant on site.  You will have to either bring your own cooler or eat at Sundance.  http://aspengrove.byu.edu/

I like to hike to Stewart Falls.  You can reach it from the trail head by Aspen Grove, or from the ski lift at Sundance. Both are scenic.  One is obviously cheaper. 

Midway, near Heber, has The Homestead Resort and Zermatt Resort.  The Homestead is more historic, traditional, and Zermatt has a swiss, european flair, boasting a european bakery with authentic tarts.  And don't forget the Crater.  A warm water crater where you can swim in warm mineral water, and even scuba dive.  http://www.homesteadresort.com/ 

http://www.zermattresort.com/

This is only a scratch at the surface of possible weekend getaways.  

When I find a useful trend or theme, I will post again.  Feel free to post and add your faves.