Mt. Naomi

29 May 2000

Adam Dimond, Benita Turpin, Berkeley Day, Brandon Banham, Brody Banham, Debby Turpin, Heidi Day, Jared Tolman, Matthew Baker, Randon Banham, Tom Tolman, Trevor Turpin, Wanda Banham

A perfect day for a walk through a warm winter wonderland. Blue skies above; white ground below–a beautiful combination. However, the snow increased the hike's difficulty and intensified the sun's burning effect on our skin. What impressed me about the top is that you can see that you're above everything nearby, yet higher mountains loom on the distant horizon. You can't tell they're higher, but they're the Uintas. There's somehow always higher ground to look toward and aspire to, even when you're on top of the world.

The trek to the top this day began by waking up at about 5:30 a.m. and heading out in the Ford Windstar–Dad, me, Heidi, Berkeley, Friend Adam, and Cousin Matthew. We met up with Aunt Wanda and Cousin Brody in Millville, a meeting enhanced by cinnamon rolls and pictures of their family's trip to New York. The remaining hikers joined the caravan at its final stop en route at Cousin Brandon's house in Providence. We got out at the Tony Grove parking lot, mildly surprised at the relatively cool temperature and presence of snow. I think it has been a fairly warm spring, despite a recent touch of snow even in the valleys.

However, the sweatpants I brought along as backup were soaking wet from a leaking water bottle, so shorts it was. Once we got going, we realized it was good hiking weather after all. The first part of the hike was pretty leisurely; then after a few minutes, the trail gave way to snow a couple feet deep the rest of the way. We trudged through a field, up toward and up through a gully, through a field, then up toward Mt. Magog. At Brandon's direction, we approached the peak from what I would call the northeast side, behind the mountain in front, and up a small-scale Timpanogas "Glacier"-like area termed "The Bowl."

The top offered great views of the Cache Valley, though Logan was mostly hidden by the mountains in the foreground. Smithfield was in full view below the peak. The Wellsville Mountains looked inviting off to the west. Rumor has it on a clear day you can see the Tetons. The Uintas beckoned from the south. Logan Canyon is a very pretty, green area. Also very cold in the wintertime from what I hear. We ate food on a windy, chilly, sunny Mt. Naomi.

Can I just say, Aunt Wanda is great; she is persistence personified. A few summers ago, I believe just before her 50^th birthday, a group with many of the same participants as this hike set out to conquer Lone Peak. As we were maybe an hour or so away from the peak, I knew Wanda and some other folks were behind me on the trail, but I wasn't sure how far behind because I hadn't seen them for a while. I wondered if they had stopped and called it good on this difficult ascent. But no–I looked back a while later, and there they were plugging along right behind me, and we all enjoyed the rugged rooftop of the Lone Peak Wilderness Area together. Of course, Wanda was there at the top of Mt. Naomi as well. She is right up there on my people-I-admire-most list. She finds a way to accomplish what she sets out to do, while taking time to smell the proverbial roses.

We headed down–directly down–running and "skiing" on the steep snow hill. We met up with Aunt Debby and Cousin Benita a ways down. The "trail," or snow path, was hard to keep track of, but my gut feeling led us to that first big gully. We got off the beaten path a bit later, but alas my peanut-butter-filled gut did not come to the rescue. We weren't that far off as it turned out, and we made it back to the cars without incident.

We being everyone but Berkeley. It turns out he fell off a cliff/rock and took a tumble. Adam and Heidi were the eyewitnesses and first-aid administrators. His shin got a pretty good gash that required stitches, but he bounced back and took it in stride–just another mountain-man wound for him. He had to miss work, elevate his leg, and play a Nintendo Pokeman game for a few days after.

I drove the van home with a stop at a south-side-of-Logan 7-11, where I got a Slurpee, and Uncle Reed Coombs' place in Brigham City to give him a ride to Salt Lake. We didn't realize how sunburned we were until we were on the way home. We met Matthew's family at a 47^th South Arctic Circle near I-215. When we got home and out of the van, the beating sun heated my legs to painful mode. They were swollen enough that it felt like there wasn't enough skin when I walked. Heidi's face got the worst of it. She was red as a radish–or maybe redder, depending on the radish I guess. She and Berkeley wore no sun block; I wore 15-spf on my face, neck, ears, and arms, but none on my legs; and dad coated himself with the powerful stuff. Dad was the winner in the coming-out-unscathed contest this time around.

Heidi took Berkeley to the ER, Mom gave Reed a ride and went to the Bates' summer party, Dad tended Braxton, and I took a decidedly cool shower before just enjoying the calm of the evening after an eventful day–Peak #1 this round in the books.