From Great Heights

Some have been known to say "practice makes perfect." If that's the case, then I'm about 30 years from being able to walk the trail to Angel's Landing in Zion's National Park blindfolded. Don't misunderstand me, I don't mean to incline anyone that being able to hike that trail without the aide of sight is a high priority in my life (Hence the 30 year deadline). All I'm saying is that for the past three years in a row, I, along with my fraternity, have made a Spring Break trip to St. George, and with the trip comes a day-trip to Zion's and a hike to Angel's Landing. For anyone who hasn't made that jaunt (no, it's MUCH more than a jaunt...I just like how that word sounds), I would highly recommend it. It...is....awesome.


This is a view from the top of the hike. What you can't see, however, is the journey. Any words I could write wouldn't do it justice, but it's intense. There's roughly a 2500 ft. increase throughout the course of about a mile and a half (about). If you ever want to know what it feels like to LITERALLY (not literally) have your calf muscles on fire, this is definitely a good start. A little (long) while ago, I wrote about the behaviors of some of the people in my fraternity, and the same people definitely surprised me on this hike. At the summit, there's a very, very large cliff on 3 sides of you. Common sense would dictate caution under such circumstances. Perhaps it's something about youth, but certain of the younger fellows I know thought it would be a good idea to run and jump around. One even went so far as to throw a rather large rock from the top. Was there really an immediate danger about doing such a thing? No, probably not, BUT I've taken physics. The energy he has to transfer into that rock in order to throw it has to be negated by a backwards force on him. If there were any chance that throwing the rock could move me in any way for any reason, and if I had a thousand foot fall on either side of me, there's a good chance I wouldn't do it. Call me overly-cautious, but that's just how I roll. All I could do was shake my head.

Another thing that permeates society is that dependence on any substance trends negatively (I don't really know what that means either). In other words, if we are dependent on any external substance, it's bad. I learned something on this hike, however. There are instances where dependence on something external in this hike is nothing short of required. You probably can't see it very well, but there's a ridge in the photo to the left. Basically, you're scaling the lip of the ridge with drops on either side, holding on to chains that have been mounted in the mountain, and you're holding on for DEAR LIFE. Granted, I don't think it's stuff like this that they're referring to when people say dependencies, but I think it fits. Yes, I do. and you can't do anything about it.


There's something about hikes that makes me impatient. I love the journey about a hike. I love the scenery, but, most of all, I love the feeling of accomplishment created by reaching the summit. What I don't like, however, is the trip back. I mean, I've already been here today! If i could find a hike that didn't involve doubling back for the return, that would....I don't know...be cool...Until then, I've discovered a good way to make the return journey a bit more enjoyable for myself: running. It doesn't matter how steep the trail is (yes it does. There is no way in...you know...that I would run down the face of a cliff I had to climb with the help of chains), running makes the return journey go by faster, and it adds a whole other dimension in the...thing. Yeah. I forgot what I was saying.


I'm all about balance. If I spend time one day eating nothing but sweets, I begin to crave something salty. If I eat too much meat, I begin wanting vegetables. If I spend all day listening to Josh Groban, I....listen to....The Used...? (I don't know what the opposite of Josh Groban is). ANYWAY, the burning invoked in my calves by the journey to the summit created an imbalance in my lower extremities. What's the best way to counter that? Oh, well, how about that, it's by running down the trail. If you've never run downhill for a mile and a half, I would strongly recommend it. The jelly-like feeling created in your quads is like...awesome. I dont' know how to describe it, but it feels like someone LITERALLY (not literally) injected a pint of pudding into each of my legs. If that doesn't create an image you really want to forget, but for some reason can't, I don't know what will. It is awesome.


Here's the moral of the story:
1) Don't throw rocks from high places, because the rock will push you backwards and you will fall and die.
2) If you're going to become dependent on anything, make it be chains while scaling a cliff. Just saying.
3) Not only is pudding great for eating, it's awesome when injected into the legs.
4) If you ever see or hear someone use the word literally, there's a good chance they didn't actually mean LITERALLY.
5) Ivan Drago is the greatest Movie villain ever (if you didn't catch that from my post, reread it. It's in there...somewhere)


Lastly, if you want to take a look at all the fun-ness had on the hike, here's a link to the pictures I took.


Angel's Landing '010

The Alfalfa Male

I love my fraternity outings. As per my last count, I've been to at least seven of them, which I guess makes me old...relatively. Granted, half of the people who are calling me old are 18, but I like to say I'm "seasoned" when it comes to fraternity outings. There's one thing I wanted to dwell on for a moment, in reflection after this most recent pledge retreat, and that's the notion of competition.

As a general rule, guys tend to be pretty competitive. With most character attributes, when people get together in a group, certain characteristics cancel each other out, but the competitive nature of 18-24-year-old males amplify when in groups. For the most part, there comes a desire to prove to the rest of the group ones' dominance. Granted, with such a large group, there will be a wide assortment of personalities, so not EVERYONE is competing for the elusive title; there are some who simply sit back and chuckle at the guys who are trying to prove something. Well, I'll bring it back down a little bit more, when i say "there are some who...sit back," that's actually the majority of people. What I have found is that there are generally a handful of people who want to show everyone else how manly they are. Maybe it's fed by some inert desire to gain the approval of their peers. Perhaps it's contributed to by a subconscious questioning of their own manliness. I'm convinced that there is a type of person who simply just needs attention, and when they don't have attention, there's a little part of their self (possibly the gall bladder) that shrivels like a raisin. If there is anything an 18-year-old male wants less than a shriveled attention gland (the left kidney?), I would like to hear about it.

The moral of the story is not that men are attention starved beasts (Honestly, if you took that out of this, I'ma punch you), but the moral is more on an entertainment level. Next time you're in a big group of people, find the couple of guys who need to prove  that they are an alpha male. There's always at least one, and they usually stick out like a sore thumb (which, by the way, is an axiom that I've never really understood, but I do know it's apt. APT!). When you find them, just follow them the rest of the night, because you're guaranteed a night of better appreciation of what you are not, if you know what I'm sayin'.