Havasupai - Part 1

Four years ago in the earliest month of 2020, my dad called and asked me if I'd be interested in a 4 day, 3 night adventure hike into Havasupai Falls. It's a 10-mile hike into an unbelievably serene and fairy-tale like campsite with waterfalls of turquoise water (stay tuned for more descriptions and pictures of this magic), 3 nights of camping, side hikes, and the 10 mile return hike to get out. My cousin had just won the lottery (the Havasupai lottery, ofc) and had 15 slots to fill with hikers' names and credentials, and my dad +1 was on her list. 

I thought for a total of .32 second before I jumped in and (perhaps over-) enthusiastically became his +1.

Enter pandemic, yada yada yada, and here we are four years older and finally cashing in on that lottery ticket.

We spent the night before our hike in a little run-down motel out in the serious middle-of-nowhere, Arizona, where the kind old lady on the phone had previously assured me that they had a place to charge my car in their RV park overnight (free of charge, no less!) but had failed to mention that in order to get to the RV park, we would need to drive one and a half miles away from the motel down a dusty road (which was so dark it swallowed everything except the narrow path our headlights cut) and then somehow find our way back. Without the car.

Thankfully we knew some people. My cousin dropped everything she was doing to follow me out there in her hybrid, wait for me to figure out how to plug in my car (flip the breaker, Linds), and drive me back to the motel. And then she did it all in reverse the next morning. Thanks, Jamie. 

That night, my dad and I packed and unpacked and repacked our giant backpacks a few times as we took in the last of the weather forecast - removed an extra pair of long underwear here, added more rain gear there - before we finally shrugged our shoulders and hoped we were ready. 

The next morning, ready to load up on protein at the continental breakfast before the hike, we found 6 things: a jug of orange juice, a jug of milk, two types of bran cereal, muffins, and bagels. Not exactly the breakfast of champions, but it fit the vibe of the Grand Canyon Caverns Inn at mile marker 115.

After our starchy meal, we gathered together with the rest of our group and made the introductions. We were an assortment of characters, largely strangers, with a common tie to my cousin, Jamie.

Jamie and her ob/gyn wife, Melani (whose stitching skills came in veryyyyy handy. Stay tuned for that fun story)

Her 76-year-old father, Roger, who was back for a second try after having been carted out of Havasupai on a mule when he was a teenager because of a busted leg

Her pilot brother, Jeremy (who, as a pilot, was quite helpful in predicting the weather)

Her sister-in-law and nephew, Janina and Landon (who were always eating apples. How did they pack in all those apples?!)

Her uncle, Mark (who was a man of few words, and when he used them had the sweetest southern drawl that somehow made me feel like home)

Her swimsuit model/middle school teacher cousin, Tiffani and Tiffani's husband, Mark - (who were both so beautiful and strong that I felt like a plumpy teenage boy next to both of them and kind of wished I'd packed at least a single tube of mascara)

And her friends, Aspen (who I bonded with over the beauty of e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g), Hilaree and Creed (a married couple), and Michelle (who I actually didn't get to know very well).

Jamie passed out all of our wristbands, and then we hopped into our cars and drove an hour to the trailhead. Which, if the cavern was in the middle of nowhere, the trailhead was off the maps. Actually, literally, it was off the maps. As we drove into the Havasupai Indian Reservation, the map in my Tesla stopped updating, and my little blue arrow simply marched its way along the gray grid. It made me wonder if that's some kind of thing between Tesla maps and Indian (Native American) Reservations?

Anyway - we finally made it to the trailhead, and here's the view.

The first couple of miles was made up of switchbacks to get us into the canyon.

But it wasn't bad at all. All through the hike and in the couple of days afterward we kept saying how easy it was... we were surprised that we hardly broke a sweat, and our muscles didn't complain at all.

Some of the other people in our group needed to stop occasionally to rest, but Poppy and I kept looking at each other with a shrug in our shoulders. 

It mightttttttttt have had to do with the fact that we let the mules carry our heavy packs, lol.

But, I learned a couple of things from this.

1) Sometimes the only difference between a hard hike and an easy hike is letting someone else take your pack. Those carrying their own packs needed to stop much more often and were walking much slower than those of us who let the mules take our packs down. Mules are capable carriers of heavy loads in ways that we are not.

Just like Jesus.

Sometimes I insist on carrying my heavy packs even when Jesus is standing next to me offering to carry it for me. I stubbornly believe I can do it all - and sometimes I can do a lot - but when I share my load with Jesus, it makes my journey much easier. Jealousy. Judgement. Loneliness. Pride. Pack them up and hand them over. It makes me feel so much lighter.

2) It's important to condition yourself. If I had laced my hiking shoes onto a couch-potato body, I never would have made it. But because I put work into preparing myself before the event, my muscles were strong enough and my feet were calloused enough and my brain was prepared enough to complete the task.

Life will take us up and down mountains and hills. Spend time preparing for them so you're ready when they hit. The greatest trainer for me is the word of God. When I let it sink deep into my heart, I feel conditioned and ready enough for any rough terrain.

Speaking of terrain, this one was quite beautiful.

Aspen and I were particularly interested in all of the circular holes in the rocks all throughout the canyon. Maybe the rocks formed around trees? So interesting.

That little plant growing straight out of the rock right up there (pictured with my shoes)... Talk about bloom where you're planted. 

One of the coolest things about the canyon were all of these rocks that were pocketed with dug-outs. Hikers had, over time, filled the holes with smaller rocks, and it made quite a stunning sight.

After 8 miles, we finally made it to Supai village, which was a fascinating place for a few reasons. Number one, it's small. Very small. The latest data I could find says it has about 500 residents, and it only took us about 5 minutes to walk through the whole village. And, largely because there's no road access into the village, it's the most remote community in the continental United States. The only way in and out is that 8 mile hike on foot or mule. Alternatively, you can fly by helicopter. Apparently it's the only place where the U.S. mail is delivered and carried out by mule.

But even in the remotest community in the continental United States:

Talk about bloom where you're planted. 

A Week in Review

1.  Timothy Almost Got Turned Away at the Doors.

Months ago, when we bought tickets to see the comedian, we didn't see the casino's 12-and-older policy. Probably because it didn't exist until the day before our show.

"How old is he?" the ticket taker asked.

"Ten," Brian replied, truthfully.

"Um... uh oh. Okay. So, he's too young," she said.

Confused silence.

"Actually, he's eleven," Brian tried. "Twelve! Fourteen?"

The ticket taker laughed, said she needed to talk with her manager, and informed us that the policy had just barely been put into place because there was a problem with infants crying in a recent show.

"Well, I can promise you he won't cry like an infant," I assured her.

She left and came back a few minutes later with a more authoritative woman who looked me right in the eye and said, "Is this your son?" Yes. "And you give permission for him to watch the show?" ...Yessssssss? Odd question seeing as though we're all standing there as a family with his ticket in our hands. But, whatever, yes. "Alright, go ahead." We let out a collective sigh of relief and found our seats.

Timothy looked up at me and whispered, "Phew. Mom. That was so scary... I almost cried like an infant back there." 

He was serious.

Timothy has held a dream of being a stand-up comedian for years now. And has been more excited for this show than anyone else. We all enjoy a good, clean comedian in this house, but Timothy especially.

We started the evening at the Shake Shack (even splurged on milkshakes), and then spent the rest of our time exploring the Wynn casino.

Wait, scratch that. I should have said that we started the evening with pants. Because getting these boys in pants is more noteworthy than most things I do in life. I endured the eye rolls and the pleas and held strong during the heavy negotiation phase. (Fine, you don't have to wear button-up shirts, but I'm holding strong at pants.)

They looked great.

And, of course, the capstone was laughing till our cheeks hurt at the hilarious way Nate Bargatze sees the world. 

2) Also Stage Worthy: My Boys

Twice a year, the youth of our church from all around the valley are invited to audition to perform in Zion's Youth. A symphony and choir made up entirely of teenagers who practice intensively in the weeks leading up to their one performance in our local, downtown performance hall. It is always a great show and it's fun for my boys to have a chance to perform in a well-run, professional-feeling choir.

3. She's Not ... Wrong ...

"Mom, this is so funny. Look- it says here 'Low Fat,' but it really should say 'High Fat' because this is actually very fat." She was right. She couldn't even get close to wrapping her hand around the entire base of the bottle.

She has been incredibly excited as the world has opened up to her through her ability to read.

4. Eliza and I Try Hard to Infuse our Home With Feminine Energy

We know our power.

5. The Boys Have Invented a New Game. We Call it Turkey Racing.

Timothy is sporting the uniform here which is simple... One large hoodie. Legs go in the sleeves, and hands tuck in anywhere they can find. All three boys ran around the basement as turkeys and I was laughing so hard I didn't even get a picture of the three of them together. Just imagine big teenage boys falling and getting up without arms. By the time they were done we had decided to purchase four of the cheapest hoodies we could find on Amazon to expand our game to include friends over Thanksgiving.

Teenagers are the best.

A Week of Thoughts

1. A Budding Composer Unafraid to Explore Her Fears

"I made this song up," Eliza said to me as she sat at the piano.

"Really? Play it for me!" I replied

"Well, there's words to it," she said.

"Oh! Sing it for me!"

"It's called," she began and looked me dead in the eyes, "I Don't Know What to Do if a Monster Comes and Chews Me Up."

"Oh!" I said, unable to hide my surprise. Or stifle my laughter. " ... Okay, then. Let's hear it!"

She then played her melody and sang the lyrics (which were, unsurprisingly, I don't know what to do if a monster comes and chews me up).

I mean, if we're being honest, I wouldn't know what to do either. 

2. People like to hike

I mean, I know not everyone likes to hike, but for some reason I had convinced myself that no one around here likes to hike. So I wallowed for a bit in my loneliness and decided to just start going by myself. And wouldn't you know, the moment I started talking about hiking, four out of four ladies asked if they could come along. Stay tuned. We may start a weekly hiking club.

3. Even Leaders Need Haircuts

Poor thing can't even open her eyes all the way because her bangs get in them. But that doesn't prevent her from being the cutest Mustang Leader ever. Her teacher says she always pays attention and is ready to answer questions. It's true. 

4. Sometimes a Picture can Stop Your Breath

It was about the leaning. The arms. The smiles. The heads tilting towards each other. I had scrolled through 20 pictures of this exact same pose on the CCM's Facebook page, scanning the faces of missionaries in districts I didn't know, searching for the one I did. Picture after picture of beaming faces, but this one stopped my breath. Not just because Kenzie is here, but because this picture tells a story of friendship and bonding in a way the other photos didn't. The other photos were beautiful, and the kids looked happy and ready for their next adventure, but they weren't enveloping each other in the same way these kids are.

She's told me in a thousand words how wonderful her time in the CCM has been - how much she loves her companion and her district and her teachers and the language - but none of them spoke as loudly as this photo. It is a treasure to me.

And now she's said goodbye to all of this, taken off her training wheels, and is somewhere in the heart of Chile fully engaged in the work she was sent to do. I get to talk to her tomorrow (I think) and I can. not. wait. 

5. They Complain a Loud Complaint When I Ask Them to Dress *A Tiny Bit Nicer*, But When Their Coach Asks, They Comply. How Rude.

And also, how wonderful that they have coaches in their lives encouraging them to stretch themselves in more ways than one. Their tennis coach, Coach Huxford, is a force of nature and loves these boys with a passion. We love her, too. So grateful to have these boys honored for their hard work this season around a whole bunch of pizza boxes and soda.

6. She Really is a Studious One. But Her Attention Span Could Use Some Work

Eliza loves to do her homework. And she does it in two minute spurts. She likes to doodle in the corners and color in all the boxes and grab a few snacks and tell me stories along the way. It's quite adorable unless we're trying to get through it a little quicker. Which we always seem to be. I'm brainstorming ways to help keep her a little more focused.

Reinforcements seem to work well.

Timothy mourns the day when his homework looked like Eliza's. He said he'd give just about anything to have math like that again. I didn't tell him he'd feel the same way in five years about the math he's doing now. Growth is painful that way.

4. Who Says Mountain Biking Trails Can't Be Hiking Trails, Too?

Like, actually. I really want to know. Do people say that? Because I've exhausted the hiking trails around here, and we have a whole bunch of cool mountain biking trails. 

As we turned this corner, Eliza stopped in her tracks and said, "Oh wow. Just look at those mountains." She loves the colors.

Mountain biking trails are actually super fun to walk on because they're interesting. They swerve and incline, and if you run it feels a little like you're on a roller coaster. So we did that. With our hands up in the air like you do.

It's a new favorite. And we practiced jumping off the trail for mountain bikers about 17 times and only ever saw one... so I think we're good.

Rock, Paper, Scissors, Pumpkins, and Unicorns

1) They just kept winning throughout the season! Until it ended in heartbreak.

The championship match was fraught with steep competition and a bit of drama (often, those two go hand in hand, I'd imagine). Carson and Chandler played their hearts out on their own courts and did their best to help their team inch closer to holding that state championship trophy.

We cheered them on alllllllllllll day long.

But it wasn't to be.

Their team needed ten points to win. Carson and Chandler won two (out of three), the other two doubles teams collected a total of four, and the singles were shut out completely. 

And with a final score of 6, they were awarded the 2nd place trophy.

They all looked rather miserable, if you ask me. Hanging heads, slumped shoulders, downturned lips and eyes... 

Looking in from the outside no one would have known that they just took SECOND in STATE!!! I was thrilled for them. But I guess it's hard to be happy with even the moon when you were shooting for the stars.

After the team competition, Chandler and Carson competed for the individual title. At first, they were ecstatic to have simply qualified for state, and I don't think either of them were expecting to go far. But when they lost in their first match on a tie-break after fighting for two and a half solid hours, it was heartbreaking for both of them. It honestly could have gone the other way for them. They knew it, and it made the loss so much harder.

I, however, have never seen them play so fiercely before, and I was so proud of them both. They kept their heads in the game the whole time and never gave up their ground. It was inspiring to watch, and their kind, hard-working characters put them as champions in my book.

 

2) A Concert that should have been named: An Inspirational Product of Passion

Our friends, the Howards, offered us two extra tickets to go to the Ed Sheeran concert with them. And, let me tell you, we got some specialllllllllllll treatment. Jason was a mastermind behind the building of this Allegiant Stadium, so he gets VIP tickets to almost any event they host. I can't believe we didn't get a picture with them!

We dined on elegant appetizers of steak and pastries, shrimp cocktail, duck something-or-other, macaroni and cheese (the chef would probably die if he knew I was calling it 'macaroni and cheese' because it was so delicate and fancy and delicious - but I have no language for elegant foods), and then moved to our main course of I-don't-even-know-what because I was so full from all of the amazing appetizers I couldn't even try any of it. 

I wasn't too full for an entire piece of delicious red velvet cake the size of my head though. And Brian had no problem polishing off several boxes of buttery popcorn. Everything was included - and our eyes bulged at it all. They even had boxes of sour patch kids and m&m's sitting around so you could fill your purses and munch all night long. 

Brian and I had a great and serious conversation about the high risk of diabetes over our endless soft drinks and decided to reign in our sugar intake after the night was over.

All of that to say, we went to the Ed Sheeran concert.

It might have been one of my favorite things of the year so far. Ed Sheeran lives for his music. "If I'm not on stage, I'm in my music studio writing songs, and if I'm not in my studio, I'm sleeping." His passion for his music was contagious and watching him up on that stage was something akin to magic. Three quarters of his performance was spent with him entirely solo - no band, no backup - just a keyboard, a guitar, and a few well-placed audio loopers that were all linked together. 

That man created his music right in front of our eyes, layer by layer, and it was stunning. And true or not, he sure looked like he'd rather be nowhere else. Certainly a night to remember.

3) Other Creators:

Creators of Jack-o-lanterns. And, wouldn't you know, I didn't even get one picture of the final products. Sometimes balancing the needs of all the people in the house is a bit of a circus act - and I was grateful for Brian who stepped in to be the fun dad for the carvers while I had other things to attend to.

He blared spooky music and de-gutted all of those pumpkins with a smile.

4) Rock, Paper, Scissors and a Princess Riding a Unicorn

Timothy wanted something creative this year, and he found it in combining rock, paper, and scissors. The costume didn't turn out as obvious as he wanted it to, and I saw him eyeing a giant inflatable chicken that I'm sure will be a contender for next year, but he pulled off his idea well. 

Eliza was a princess riding a unicorn.

Originally, she was simply a girl riding a unicorn, but it turns out that riding unicorns gets rather tiring, so on Halloween day she didn't really want to ride it into the school.

I suggested that maybe she be a princess riding a unicorn so that she could be in a princess costume, and then offered to bring her unicorn to the class party later that day. 

The idea was a hit.

So we dug through our costumes and found a princess dress (that was literally 4 sizes too big for her), then dug through my sewing supplies to find juuuuuuuuuust enough safety pins, and pinned her into it for the day.

Her favorite part? The lipstick.

"Mom? Princesses need to carry their lipstick around with them and be able to put it on without their moms."

Good point.

So we put the lipstick into her backpack and she reapplied liberally throughout the day. This was clear when I got to her school several hours later for the party. It was quickly covered up with purple frosting from the cupcakes, however.

I got no pictures of Halloween night. Not one. I was too busy making a quadruple batch of white chili, two gallons of hot chocolate (one cocoa and one peppermint white), tidying the house just enough to receive the onslaught of people, setting out dishes and mugs, handing out candy to the 400+ kids who came to the door, and chatting with anyone who came to sit on my porch with me.

I didn't even get to eat the chili or drink the hot cocoa until 9pm when everything settled back down. Halloween is intensely fun around here in this neighborhood. People were in and out of the house all night long, and the porch was so crowded with trick-or-treaters from 5:30 until 8:30 (plus the stragglers for 30 minutes on either side of that window) that I'm pretty sure someone could have walked right past me with our big screen TV and I wouldn't have even noticed.

Halloween weekend always leaves me feeling blessed to live here.