Adventure | Gable Napora
As we got closer to where we would set off for our first expedition, the canyons of Utah quickly became redder, steeper, and more awe-inspiring. No one in our 14 person van could believe what we were seeing. How could these colossal maroon mesas and expansive canyons not be regulated by the NPS and surrounded by tourists. The occasional cow, grazing on desert grass, was the only lifeform we had seen in hours. The picturesque Grand Canyon or the Zion narrows felt more like paintings when compared to the solid rock in front of us. When we stepped off the bus, all of us (mostly me) immediately felt the urge to climb to the top of the surrounding cliffs, ranging from 200-550 feet tall. That urge never left.
Walking in and along the canyons, especially after a few days, when I stopped thinking about current events and things that don’t matter, I felt more free than I ever have before or in the short time since. I don’t know what it was, maybe the huge sky, maybe the completely dissipated sense of scale, or maybe that we hadn’t seen another person for ten days, but I felt way more thoughtful and capable of self reflection. Being fully in control of everything you need to live, fully self reliant, is incredible. The remoteness and shared hardships builds such a strong community, and the awkward getting-to-know-you-phase ends as soon as it starts. The food, the people, the views, the stars, pretty much everything except the water is better in the canyons.
17 in the Desert | Millie Braude
Initially, I signed up for HMI spring semester worrying about having my birthday just under two weeks into the semester. To be honest, I was concerned about not getting any presents, having a birthday without cake and talking to my family, and being around strangers who I assumed knew nothing about me. But when the first night in Utah rolled around and my group accidentally got melted cheese all over a pot and had to scrub it off using a juniper branch, I knew this trip would exceed all of my expectations. I was able to live in the present and enjoy so many new experiences: rappelling into a slot canyon, cracking a thick layer of ice to get water, and playing games under the glow of red headlamps.
I woke up on my birthday with no idea of how to imagine the day ahead of me. In my sleeping bag, I rolled to the edge of the mid and watched the sun rise, turning the mountains red and blue and purple. My cook crew and I made huge pancakes studded with chocolate chips that we had been saving for this day. As we walked seven miles, I enjoyed the chocolate bar I was given from the instructors. In the evening, we made pizza and scrambled brownies topped with a chocolate chip “17”. At our nighttime meeting, we sat underneath the desert sky and enjoyed the Milky Way appearing out of the darkness. Everyone said something about me that they loved or appreciated. I made a list of seventeen things I have learned this year and shared it with a few of my teachers. And at a 7:00 am gas station stop fresh out of the backcountry, my friend and I, with our birthdays one day apart, were gifted t-shirts from our advisor.
So while this birthday was very different from any other one I have celebrated, it was by far my favorite. I have never felt more fulfilled, grounded, or grateful than I did experiencing the desert with wonderfully thoughtful and kind people.
Circles | Ella Hamel
At High Mountain Institute, I often find myself sitting or standing within a circle.
Flying within this circle may be a hacky sack. Or maybe we are amidst a game of silent football, or “Bunny Bunny,” both of which eventually end in the eruption of laughter. Maybe we finally completed the day’s long hike and sat down on the surrounding sandstone rocks to share the highs and lows of the day. Maybe the sun has gone and the moon has taken its place as we ask questions mixed with silliness and depth.
When we are in a circle, there is a mutual understanding of our connectedness. Our separateness is dissolved, if only a little bit, through this shared vulnerability that the canyons and mountains always seem to bring out in us. It is as if we are alone, together, in the vastness of the world.
There is comfort in our circumference. Every night after a long day, filled with hiking adventures and cooking endeavors, we would gather together in a circle, to play games, go over the plan for tomorrow, but also to share what is normally hardest to. In the circle there is a sense of being held, one that is hard to reciprocate by anything else, except through this communal tetheredness.
At the last circle of first expedition, on the evening of our final night, I knew I would never be with exactly this group of people in exactly this place again. But even as we joined hands, squeezed, and raised them at once as we did every night, I knew this circle would never truly close.
Just Do It | Dev Talwalkar
My first two weeks at HMI were everything and nothing I could have expected. I knew it would be amazing, but it was so much more. It was sublime. I learned that word from our history reading. Making the decision to come here was one of the hardest and scariest things I have ever done, and everyday that I am here I am so glad that I did. Hiking through the Utah canyons with strangers who you feel like you’ve known for years is truly an unexplainable experience, but I will try my hardest to do so. I genuinely believe that I enjoyed every moment of first expedition.
The seven hour bus ride which seemed so daunting felt like it was over after thirty minutes. The sixty pound pack on my back felt weightless as we sang and told riddles and stories to each other. And oh my god the views were nuts. There was a moment where after hiking five or so miles we went up a steep sand dune, and when we got to the top we could see literally everything. The fact that it was on a random Tuesday when I would have been in English class made it even better. At night the stars were so abundant that it felt like we were under a wavy glowing blanket. The sky convinced me to sleep outside of my tent and ignore my freezing toes. I also learned so much more than I thought I could in just two weeks. I’m not just talking about school stuff – I learned how to do an around the world with a hacky sack, how to solve a rubik’s cube, how to descend into a canyon with a handline, how to navigate through the desert with minimal help, and so much more. I could keep the list going for a whole page but I have a word count on this.
One of my favorite moments from expedition was when our group encountered a huge pothole of water after hiking for miles through the bottom of a canyon. The water was iced over and clear polished quartz crystal (which is super clear look it up). When someone suggested going in everyone said no right away. But after a quick “why not” and some really good persuasion skills almost everyone was neck deep in freezing cold water, laughing, shivering, and thanking whoever had said to go in. It was moments like this that showed me how beneficial saying yes can be. I definitely did not plan or want to polar plunge, but I did anyway, and I was so happy that I did. I have done things that a month ago I would have never even thought of doing. I really do feel like embarrassment does not exist here. I can do anything I want, look stupid doing it, and have it be one of my best memories.
No Teacher in Spanish Class? | Marilyn Ramsdell
The bathroom was steamy, everyone got up early to shower. Backpacks lined the walls and covered chairs. I hurried to Who’s Hall to make sure I would not miss roll call. The room was abuzz, from giggles to screams the room was ecstatic. Can’t remember the last time I’ve been so excited for the first day of school. Eggs and Bacon, Yogurt bowls and cereal. “The roll call question today is ‘Is a hotdog a sandwich?” The meal bell rang and soon the room was filled with very strongly spoken yes’ or no’s answering the very controversial roll call question. “That’s it everybody. Go to class, and happy first day of school!”
I looked at my schedule, which I had color-coded the previous night. “Orange, Hope classroom, Spanish class? Where is the Hope classroom?” I found the Hope Classroom (HC for short.) No teacher? I thought to myself. I had not taken a Spanish class in 4 years. And… Now there was no teacher in class. There were however, two papers and two books titled “Merriam Webster’s Spanish-English Dictionary” sitting on the long rectangular table at the front of the classroom. The five other students in my class and I used all of our combined brain power, Spanish knowledge, and “Merriam Webster’s Spanish-English Dictionary” to make out what the paper said. “Get into groups of three… Jenga Blocks… Scavenger Hunt?”
And so the hunt began. “Debajo de Argentina.” Under Argentina? I looked around the classroom and saw a blue and white striped flag hanging in the corner. “Psst!” I whispered loudly to my classmate Thea. “Look under the flag in the corner, under Argentina!” Sure enough we found 3 large Jenga blocks underneath the Argentine flag. From that point on it all made much more sense. We ran in our groups from the rock climbing gym, to cabin number two, to the bus barn, to cabin seven, and back to the classroom. What a race.
Out of breath, my pants wet from the snow (I wasn’t expecting to run in a race during the first period), and a pile of jenga blocks in my arms, I exclaimed, “there’s the teacher!”
“¡Solo en español chica!” my teacher very kindly exclaimed back at me. “Lo siento!” I apologized. And then we played Jenga. Spanish jenga, with questions written in Spanish on the Jumbo sized blocks, and that was class.
My smile stretched ear to ear as I walked back into Who’s Hall to get a cheese stick before the next period. “We really just did a scavenger hunt and played jenga all class.” I said to myself as I peeled the first bite of my cheese stick off. “And I don’t think I’ve spoken that much Spanish in 4 years. And I don’t think I have ever understood that much Spanish.” After one hour and fifteen minutes of Spanish class, I already felt more understood and understanding of the language than I had in 6 years of Spanish classes at home. My grin remained, and started to ache, and as I walked into English class, the only thought occupying my mind was, “I think I’m going to like it here.”
Advice and What I learned | Elisabeth Scott
Coming from 600 ft to 10,000 feet of elevation was a new experience for me, especially since I had never backpacked a day in my life before coming to HMI; I was incredibly nervous. However, my whole perspective changed after just 13 days climbing in and out of canyons, watching sunsets and stars with 10 of my now best friends.
My first time putting on my backpack made me think “wow is it really supposed to be this heavy?” I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it all 13 days after this, however, each day got easier and I learned more than I could ever think. Here’s some things I learned and some advice I have:
- You don’t need to have ever backpacked to go all in and enjoy these 2 weeks to the fullest.
- I can live with so much less than I ever thought I could.
- The view of the stars in the Utah canyons was the best I have ever experienced.
- The backpack was heavy, but it’s worth it, and the views and amount of accomplishment I felt far surpassed whatever discomfort I may have felt.
- I love backcountry cooking…but hate cleaning my pans in the canyons.
- Make crunchwraps with your beans and rice.
- The pack does get lighter!
From pack passes to people asking if anyone needed any help, everyone was always willing to lend a hand in order to make sure everyone in the group was able to continue on. From never backpacking before or navigating a group on trail, I got to lead my whole group for a day and navigate us through canyons, which is something I never thought I would be able to do. Take my advice: don’t let your level of experience stop you from coming and experiencing the Utah canyons.