Semester 50: 1st Expedition
Written by: Coby, Suzanna, Vy Lan, Elizeth, Max, & Stella
From January 29 to February 9, 2023, the students of High Mountain Institute (HMI) Semester 50 explored the spectacular Utah canyon country with each other, their instructors, and their own selves only a handful days after arriving and meeting each other! Several among them opted to write about and share about their memorable experiences from the trip.
Coby: It was really a whirlwind of emotions as we rolled onto the HMI campus on the big white HMI buses that first day of the semester. We looked at each other, a group of strangers and new friends we’d ridden with since being picked up at the airport earlier that day. As we disembarked, the snow crunched under our feet. The view of the mountains was striking—it still is; it won’t get old—and the cold was biting. As we did med checks and turned our phones in, the reality of the situation set in: I’m really at HMI. Wow, this thing that I’ve thought about for weeks, months, is finally coming to fruition. In a matter of an hour or two we had already seen all of campus (most of it anyway, the full tour wouldn’t come until later), met our expedition/first cabin groups, and were starting the transition into dinner.
My group was in Cabin Four, and we all bonded quickly. When I walked into the cabin, having been shown by Lupe (“Hey Lupe, can you show Coby to his cabin?” said someone, “find it yourself… oh I’m just kidding!” said Lupe, the pause just long enough that I thought he was serious), someone had a speaker and was playing music. Noticing a few people lounged in the common area and a few others in their rooms unpacking, I claimed a bed. The Spruce Classroom, infamously known as “Spruce Wrld”, was where my expedition group spent most of our pre-exped time. Because of COVID precautions, we basically formed a pod and that room was our designated space any time we weren’t in our cabins. As such, bonds formed quickly—they had to—and we quickly became a comfortable and friendly community. We ate together, slept in the same cabin, packed for exped, and talked exclusively to each other most of the time.
The first couple days involved campus and residential life orientation, tours and explanations, laying frameworks for later traditions which we’re only fleshing out now that we’re back, and generally learning the ropes. After we’d started to get settled, we moved into packing for exped in the canyons! This was a process which involved transferring whatever we’d brought from home from our cabins to Spruce Wrld (a trek, I assure you) in whatever way we saw fit. I used a trash bag, some used backpacks, some boxes, etc. Once we had that laid out on the unfamiliar classroom floor, we went over the packing list, garnering advice from the adults and each other, and finally, getting anything we didn’t already have from the gear room. Like a trophy, I emerged from the gear room carrying my new rental pack with the handful of things I hadn’t had brought from home, which eventually just went on the same pile as everything I had brought from home. And so it began, we had everything we needed, it was just a matter of putting it all together. After a hasty lesson in bag packing, we packed our packs. As we carried them out to the bus (maybe a two minute walk) I think everyone thought the same thing: How am I going to make it through ten minutes, let alone two weeks, of carrying this pack?!
The next day, as we boarded the bus, the group’s excitement and nervousness were higher than any point yet—we were leaving! Going to Utah! To the canyons! Yet, after just a few hours of driving, the energy had settled into a comfortable rhythm of talking and quiet. The excitement had calmed to boredom, but the nerves were still active. After eight hours (the expected length of the drive) we were still stuck in traffic. The nine hour mark rolled by, then the ten. After 13 hours, we were finally in the Utah canyons. The darkness shrouded everything in a mysterious unseeingness, and, as we set up our tarps and cook areas for the first time, we could just barely see the outline of the mesa which we’d circle for the whole two week trip. Exhausted, we crashed in our sleeping bags late in the night, eager for a thrilling adventure the next day!
The first morning was magical. The shroud which had blocked our view lifted with the arrival of dawn, and, although not the most beautiful view we’d see all trip, that first morning’s view of the whole mesa in the sunrise, the icy canyon depths below, was definitely my favorite.
Throughout the course of their journeys, each of the five HMI expedition groups had various opportunities to explore their otherworldly surroundings, venturing down into the surrounding canyons and chasing through their shadowy, smoothed depths of sandstone walls and icicles! Sometimes these canyon trips would be short and sweet day hikes, and other times, students had to travel through these canyons with their full packs for a day of rugged backpacking!
Suzanna: It took us more than an hour to get down into the wash of the canyon close to our camp. It was our first real day in the backcountry, as the previous day’s one-mile hike on an ATV road didn’t quite qualify. We started out nice and slow, figuring out how to position our feet at the right angles along the rocks, balance ourselves with trekking poles, and safely butt scooch down the stones’ steeper sections. The sun was high and powerful, and despite it being January in Utah, it felt warm. Sweating and tired, our small group of seven landed in the wash in the early afternoon, three miles still ahead of us. We did not know that those three miles would turn into six hours of navigating the treacherous bottom of the canyon. We traversed across mud, sand, ice, and snow, the cadence and rhythm of our footsteps changing with the different terrains. Our voices were soft and low, the quietness interrupted whenever we stepped over the crunchier sections of ground. There was a nervous excitement coursing through the group, amplified when we stopped for snacks and water breaks. Our appetites skyrocketed. Tortillas with cheese and pepperoni were scarfed down, followed by CLIF bars and handfuls of seed mix. Tape was pulled out of first-aid kits, the beginning of blisters plastered over in hopes of a comfortable next few days. And then, after ten minutes giving our bodies a break, our packs were on once again, our spirits rejuvenated for the next leg of the trek.
It was near 6:00 pm when we reached our campsite for the night. The day had been invigorating though mentally taxing, full of new experiences and physical exertion. There was still work to be done to get settled into our site—“mids” (short for pyramid tarps) to be put up, WhisperLite stoves to be lit, dinners to be cooked. As we started going through the motions, the rain came. It started lightly, a few drops with the promise of more. The “more” came quickly—a wet, heavy mixture of ice and rain. The wind took out our flames, abolishing any attempts of cooking. In a scramble, we moved our kitchen supplies to a nearby cave-like overhang, finding solace in the dryness it provided. We cooked our dinners and filled our water bottles with rainwater, beyond content with our natural shelter and the ability to rest after a long day.
Throughout the course of the expedition, students also learned to cook hearty and nutritious meals for themselves with the help of their instructors. Once the students learned the ropes, though, they fared for themselves in the backcountry kitchen!
Vy Lan: There are a variety of strange food combinations out there in the world. Pineapple on pizza, ice cream and soy sauce, oreos in orange juice…but you’d think that on an eleven day backcountry expedition, one would have no time for curious food experimentation. Except we did—accidentally.
See, imagine a large, hundred-liter green backpack filled to the brim with all the necessities: A sleeping bag, clothes, water bottles, a portable WhisperLite stove to cook your food in, and of course, six bags of pasta. Instant hash browns. More tortillas you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Vegetables, some fun candy bars, tuna bags, and finally, the disastrous duo: Two bags of white powder mixtures. One is pancake mix. One is flour for backcountry pizza-making. It is vital to your survival and your general wellbeing and happiness that you label them accordingly, else you doom yourself to lumpy pancakes and strangely fluffy pizzas. Of course, each cook crew—made up of three to four students—made sure to properly name the bags during pre-expedition.
Save for us.
It had all started fine in the morning for breakfast; my cook crew and I pumped the fuel cans, started our WhisperLite stove, grabbed our fry bake from our backpacks, and poured the bag labeled “Pancake Mix” in with some water. We were master backcountry chefs by this point in time, meaning that we were allowed to make the executive decision of pouring our entire bag of chocolate chips into the fry bake. The pancakes were sweet and simply delicious. It was lumpy, but the texture was masked by the chocolate. Nobody questioned it until dinner rolled around, and it was Pizza Time. We had done everything right in preparation. The yeast we prepared rose. The pepperoni and cheese were set and sliced cleanly via our trusty expedition-all-purpose spatula. The sauce was ready and delicious. We poured the flour mix in, and…
“Those look suspiciously like pancakes,” I said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” responded one of my cook crewmates.
Pizzas flavored like pancakes… that was a new one! It was pleasant enough that we overlooked the absurd taste in favor of laughter. First exped was difficult, but the lumpy flour chocolate-chip pancakes and pizza-pancakes gave us enough spirit to tackle the rest of the week and go home with newfound cooking advice for our families. Pro Backcountry Tip: Check your labels!
The challenge of walking around every single day with a behemoth backpack is a tall order, to be sure! It makes for exhausting walking and rocklike sleeping! The students of HMI Semester 50 took to it with grace and great resilience, and after days and days of walking, some of them were even up for greater challenges, too.
Elizeth: It was 5:40 am when I awoke one morning and remembered how cold my lips were. I don’t know what woke me up, but it was definitely not my watch. The moon was still out, unsurprisingly. Utah is just beautiful at night, with so many stars. It may have been dark and cold that morning but the stars were beyond worth it to look at. As I saw the Milky Way, I began to pack up my things with my tarp bud, who was struggling to wake up. That morning, everyone had to be ready for an early start at 7:00 am to hike what our instructors said was potentially “the hardest part of this expedition”: Going up the Mesa.
The Mesa was huge! It may have looked small from far away, and it may have looked easy to just jump to the other side, but as you got closer, it had many broken layers. Cliffs rose high above us as we approached it. Big rocks impeded our path, there was snow on the Mesa, and some layers were icy. Overall, the rocks looked old, and it didn’t look good up close. But it isn’t about whether the Mesa looked pretty or ugly, it was about the urge of getting to the other side. Being on top of that Mesa and just looking down on what you climbed for two hours felt like the best accomplishment someone can have.
We left our campsite after the sun started rising and we began walking towards the Mesa that was in front of us. It was a bit of a walk, with a lot of cryptobiotic soil that we tried to avoid stepping in. When we were up in front of the mountain, at the start of the climb, I think I stopped breathing for a second.
There were so many layers of stone to climb just with your feet and with our heavy backpacks on, and it was quite difficult for me. It was really difficult, actually. The people I was with on exped were incredible, though. Everyone did such a great job: they deserve a quick shout-out!
I felt like I was in a game or something because climbing up a mountain was such an unexpected challenge that I hadn’t experienced before—a new challenge I received. No one got hurt, and as we got way up higher, it became harder to find a path that we could use to cross over the Mesa’s top. There was no time to look at what time it was, or ask what’s for dinner. You were there focused with your feet and hands, consciously moving across the earth.
We finally made it. We made our way just walking up without any rocks having fallen and no distractions that could lead to danger. There was just heavy snow all over, and I felt breathless. My apprentice, who was behind me, was motivating me to keep going. Even if it was just a six minute walk up now, I felt like my knees were not functioning. I didn’t stop until we finally got to the top. I finally took a breath.
I looked down and I saw what was around me. It was amazing! The mountains nearby felt small again, and the wind blew my sweat away. The sun was so bright, and the sky was bright blue. I thought about my brother and I couldn’t wait to tell him what I did that day: That I was on top of a Mesa.
Hiking over mesas, down into canyons, and over wide flats of snow-covered red earth and sagebrush, became commonplace to these amazing kids during their first expedition in the canyon country. All the while, these students formed meaningful friendships with each other and learned a lot about themselves, wilderness skills, and their new community.
Stella: On expedition we spent our days hiking underneath the Utah sun and our nights sleeping under the stars. We spent the beginning of the expedition learning valuable tools such as map reading & orientation, lighting stoves & cooking, setting up mids, and packing our packs. Throughout the 13 days in the wilderness we all became experts in our newfound outdoor skills.
One morning, our day started at 7:00 am when we woke up in our frosted mids with our one or two other tarp members. If it was your chef day you would get the stove ready and start boiling water before your cook crew members joined you shortly thereafter. On days where the water was too frozen to make oatmeal, tortillas with cheese and brown sugar were deliciously crafted and heated up in our fry bake. We would add our favorite hot chocolate or lemonade mix to our “aquamiraed” water before getting going (for context, AquaMira is our water purification tool; it involves adding a purifying chlorine dioxide solution). To start off the day everybody packed up their bags after distributing the stoves and tarps evenly among us. The night before, two Leaders of the Day, or “LODs,” volunteered or were chosen by the instructors. They would debrief the map to our two hiking groups before 9:30 am, explaining our route, some geographic handles and stopping features, as well as the overall distance of the hike. Then once the group was split into two groups according to supplies, the leaders would tell everyone the plan of the day, assigning roles like, “Water Wizard”, “Sunscreen/Screen Queen”, and “Vibe Master” to ensure everyone had a role and could contribute to the group’s functioning. Then, we set off with our packs and after intervals of about 30 minutes we would stop to do map checks and check in with everybody.
Most days, we would get to our campsite in the early afternoon where we would then debrief in our hiking groups, set up our mids, and then spend some time alone in the beautiful canyons. We would start classes and have discussions on various topics from effective communication and conflict resolution to environmental sustainability and the future of humanity. On the last days of the expedition we would discuss our homework that we brought with us for our classes. Some of the discussions we had involved cryptobiotic soil, Romanticization in the wilderness, and learning about the Indigenous people who lived here and still do. In the afternoons we spent our time lying in the warm sun just talking or playing hacky sack. We snacked on our granola and seed mix, which were two fan favorites. Around 4:30 pm the cook would start preparing dinner for their group. Delicious and infamous cheesy pasta was a regular meal, if not an everyday occurrence. One night everyone made pizza together, keeping the dough babies warm in our coats as the yeast did its work to help the babies grow. As 7:30 pm rolled around we all layered up in our puff pants and puff coats for our evening Circle. We had a spotlight each night, featuring every single person on our expedition by the end. For each spotlight, each person had one minute to share their life story, one minute to answer a round of wacky questions, and then a final round of in-depth, get-to-know-you type questions. We also played many different games, Bob the Weasel was probably the most memorable game on my expedition. After Circle we all stargazed, finding Orion’s belt, the Little and Big Dipper, and many other constellations each night. Along with Zoey, Liliana, Gigi, Leah, Flynn, Jamie, Adam, John, and Blaize we had an incredible first expedition that I will always remember as some of the coldest and funniest days of my life.
After each fulfilling and exhausting day, Semester 50’s students kicked back after dinner with some fun games and activities! Most of the time, these community-building events are simply silly or even sincere, but every now and again, there are always some oddities, too.
Max: As we stand around our circle at night, only the light of the bright white moon illuminates your face.
Looking down, you notice the bright, glaring, bellowing, and horrifying glow of 10 headlamps circled next to you. They dimly light the smirking faces of each circle member, in a mystifying, riveting and yet dazzling hue.
These headlamps don’t match the moon—they glow red, and red as crimson.
This, this here, is Kumba. A game of excitement, wonder, and the occult.
Slowly, a voice to your right begins chanting and a rhythmic, methodical slapping of thickly gloved hands against thickly puffy-pant-wrapped legs starts. The voice starts at a low grumble—
“Kummmm-bA Kummmm-bA Kummmm-bA”
Slowly the groups begins to shuffle to the left, building momentum, the energy of the chant rising, the volume growing, the leg slapping intensifying—
“Kummmm-bA Kummmm-bA Kummmm-bA”
I wish you could hear the true sound—the true emotion—but it’s irreplicable.
Finally, out of the blue, or really out of the shadowy red light, someone screams—
“BuNNy-BuNNy BuNNy-BuNNy!”
and within an instant the two circle members to their right and left raise their arms high above their heads, as far up as their 12 layers of long underwear/second long underwear/fleece/micropuff/macropuff/gloveliner/mitten let them, and they cry out—
“TiKi-TiKi TiKi-TiKi,” vigorously shaking their arms, and hopping side to side energetically.
As the person who just “BuNNY BuNNY”-ied finished their final “BuNNy,” they reach their arms out in front of them, cock their head to one side and open their eyes wide allowing the red light to seep into the whites of their eyes, as they pass the ‘BuNNy” along to the next person.
The group continues on rumbling “Kummmm-bA,” ferociously awaiting their next “BuNNY” or TiKi.”
And that, everyone, is our beloved game Kumba!
Every night on expedition before bed we had a circle discussion to debrief the day. We gave kudos, asked questions, received the wake up time for the next morning from our good ‘ol friend the Pompous Moose, bringer of wake up times, and did a deep dive into something personal about each other to get to know more about our group. But, before all the logistical and ooey gooey stuff, we would play a game, and sometimes that game was glorious Kumba! Kumba is loads of fun, and my personal favorite game. I love it so much I forced my cabin to play it back on campus one night, and we had a red headlamp blast. By the way—the red headlamps are crucial to the spirit of the game.
There are plenty of other circle games like Yeehaw, Bob the Weasel, Big Booty, Pony, and more, all of which will have to be explained in a later edition of the blog, but for now, Kumba is all we need.
Believe me when I tell you that Sem 50 is majorly hype to play some wild Kumba in the backcountry again on our upcoming Second Expedition! Red headlamps in the mountains here we come!
Semester 49: What it Means to Be a Poet
The Kofa Gap Traverse 2023