Summit

"Which one?"
"That one." I say, pointing out a green lump in the distance.
We hop in a yellow Cadillac, and speed away towards the mountain. It is on the other side of the valley, barely within sight, for a layer of fog had descend upon the valley. Windows rolled down, blaring music, we drove. Before we knew it, we had found ourselves in unfamiliar territory.

Housing developments popped up around us, creating a cookie-cutter maze that was impossible to navigate. We had no directions, we just relied on our intuition, pointing the hood ornament towards our mountain whenever possible. Soon, we had found ourselves perched atop the highest neighborhood in Herriman, and at the foot of green beast that was our unexplored playground.

Initially sprinting up the hillside, we slowed to a pleasant walk, and continued to climb. All of a sudden, a great boom erupted in the sky above us. It sounded as if some daring percussionist had decided to play a set on the mountain top looming over us. Despite nervousness about an approaching storm, we plowed up the desert landscape. Every few minutes we paused to remove sharp thorns, there was no trail, only the space between sage. The hillside became steeper and steeper until it progressed into a rock climb. The only thing keeping us from turning around was the American flag perched atop the summit, a dazzling icon in a seemingly martian landscape. Finally, we had done it. The summit was within grasp.

A breathtaking view erased worries about thunder and the treacherous journey down as we gazed across the plains of Herriman and the Salt Lake Valley. Meditation was next in the agenda, and we took a moment to enjoy the first day of summer before heading down the slope.