Dad-ventures

The other day, I typed "Todd Moon hikes" into my gmail search. 58 results showed up, most of them letters he has written to my siblings on my missions the past 3 years.

As I glanced through the emails, my suspicions were confirmed. There was story after story of adventures in the great outdoors -- hiking already slippery trails in even slipperier snowy conditions, dodging rattlesnakes, wandering through Dead Horse Canyon in separate groups after climbing through tiny caves and rappelling down cliffs upside down, getting lost somewhere in Emery County, gashes, cuts, scratches, heat, cold, sleet, impassable trails, and everything you could imagine. (And this is only from the past 3 years . . . it doesn't include our treks to Mount Timpish, our treacherous journey down the glacier of Mount Timpanogos, or any other hikes I was there for!)

I confess that I've become more impatient with these stories the longer I've lived from home. I finally figured it out -- my world now is one where I have to worry about choking hazards, stairs, bookcases, drowning, roads, and even alligators. With both daring parents and curious kids to care about, I have felt sandwiched by worry. I guess that is part of being an adult now -- worrying about your parents the way they still worry about you.

But at the same time, I am grateful for my dad's sense of adventure. I am grateful that he has found a thrilling, incredibly gratifying outlet to his stressful work, one that allows him to see God's majestic creations up close. I am grateful that he has dragged my siblings, his group of young men, and even me on many of his adventures, teaching us all to take risks and live life to the fullest.

So, Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thanks for showing me so much of this beautiful world! Someday I'll join you again on a hike!

In the meantime, I can reminisce on some of the hikes we've enjoyed together so far (all with lovely views, to be sure) :

This is when we hiked somewhere in Escalante and my sister in the white hat thought we were all going to die in a flash flood.

This is from the time we went geode hunting and rolled our car in the west desert.

This is the view from a trail which does not actually lead to Mt. Timpanogos.

This is a view from somewhere around Y Mountain, but not quite the peak of Y Mountain.

2 years after our first attempt, we got on the right trail and made it to Mt. Timpanogos! This is us trying to get down the glacier of Mt. Timpanogos. Only my brother required stitches after the tumble down.

This is my dad safely at the top of Ben Lomond (I wasn't there). He's pretty great.