Yesterday's conversation with my home teachers:
HT: So tomorrow a bunch of us are going to Antelope Island. You should come!
Me: What exactly is Antelope Island?
HT: We're not sure, but you should come!
Me: You know what? I think I'll come! Is it okay if I bring a friend? [Brooke came, and I am SO thankful for her encouraging company]
HT: Sure! We're meeting at our apartment at 8:30.
In that very brief dialogue did you see any clothing advisory? Any hint of what would ensue following said excursion to Antelope Island was not given. If you'd never heard of Antelope Island (an island in the middle of the Salt Lake), what would first come to mind? My first thoughts were antelope, followed by a touristy, kitchy site. Wrong and wrong.
Welcome to Antelope Island.
When I headed over to my home teachers' apartment, Tyler asked me if I could hike in the shoes I was wearing. Thinking that this would be a little hike--because any hike of significant proportions would naturally merit a warning--I said, "Yeah! I can hike in these shoes." Reference photo below.
Now reference above photo of Antelope Island. Are two and two not making four? You are correct. My math was severely off. Also note in my self portrait that I am wearing my red peacoat. And a headband. And large, trendy, chocolate earrings. Good grief.
This hike was supposed to be 3.25 miles. Okay, not so bad. The guy heading up this "little" adventure said that we should be back in Provo by 1:00. Great! We get up to Antelope Island around 10:00, hike for an hour, then drive back--ShamWow!!
That was a lie--a big one.
So after over four hours--four hours--of hiking and way more than 3.25 miles of rugged terrain, foot-deep snow, and wet feet in not-hiking-friendly shoes, we finally made it back to the car. In our hiking, we'd make it up one huge hill--huffing and puffing, but no verbal complaining I might add--and then they'd say, "Just one more!" This happened several times. "One more time" became meaningless to me. Once we finally ascended the highest peak (well, probably not the highest, . . . but maybe), I was under the impression that we would at last be able to turn around. I then ended up staying at this particular point while most of the others climbed this:
Anneli stayed back too, and I do admit to verbal complaining here at this point.
Around 2:00 we finally started heading down. One of the more experienced hikers (that's what the sign to the trail specified--experienced hikers aka not me) decided to take a shortcut that led us down a rocky, steep mountain of almost certain death. Let's be glad that was almost certain death. The guys in our group helped those of us who needed help down said rocky slope, and then I was in between the hardcore hiker group and the not-so-hardcore hiker group walking by myself for the last little bit, which gave me time to grumble, roll my eyes, and fight angry tears. And I fell a few more times.
But I did it. And I did it in those shoes. Don't let the bows on my shoes fool you. But I don't intend on doing it again anytime soon, if ever.
Now I'm safely back in my apartment, freshly showered and am currently writing this post, eating Kraft Mac and Cheese, and watching "Gilmore Girls."
Needless to say, I am not going to the gym tonight.