Observations From a Morning Hike
Admittedly, I’ve chosen the wrong time of year for this specific hike. The Vista Ridge trail in Alpine, Utah: an out & back trail totaling 3.7 miles and 590 feet of elevation gain. An online community of hikers has labeled it an Easy trail, which gives me confidence in the face of my considerable lack of hiking experience.
The main appeal of this area are the hillsides flooded with the wildflowers that bloom in the springtime, engulfing the terrain in an ocean of fluorescent yellow. The scorching summer heat has since burnt those flowers to a crisp, but I’m not too upset. Without the flowers, most people aren’t as interested in coming by anymore–and I’m quite happy to trade the vibrant flora for a trail that is relatively unoccupied. The crowds will be back by next spring anyways.
With hopes to have a relatively quiet hike, I embark on my journey, ready to follow the trail signs that seem to be missing the first letters of both words. Either that or they’ve renamed this trail Ista Idge.
I stick an AirPod in my right ear and hit play on a playlist of my favorite songs in 2025. The opening chords of “Tomatoes” by Briston Maroney flow past my ear drum, reminding me of the concert I went to with my brother back in June. I leave my left ear unoccupied so I can listen to the world around me. The crunch of my feet against the loose dirt and rocks. Rustling in the bushes. The whistle of the breeze against the trees.
Snaking my way up the hillsides, I’m immediately grateful for the sunscreen that I remembered to put on as I was leaving home. Even though it’s a good 5 degrees cooler here than it is by my house, it’s still a hot late-summer day here in the desert that is Utah, and the sun is ready to cook me as hard as it’s cooked the wildflowers. I see the browned, brittle remains of the flowers as I walk, occasionally hearing the crunch of the petals under my feet.
After a few minutes, two hikers pass me on their way down the trail. I initially spotted them from quite far away, and had the proper amount of time to consider what polite greeting I should toss their way. Hello? Good morning? Lovely day, isn’t it? I settle on a panicked “Hi” and an awkward smile. This type of interaction is why I’m walking amidst the scorched wildflowers.
Eventually, I reach the peak of the hill that I’ve been slowly climbing, and suddenly the entire valley opens up ahead of me. That’s one thing that I find so interesting about many hikes here–it’s almost as enjoyable to have a view of civilization unfolding in the valleys down below as it is to see the jagged, green mountains encompassing it, as if enveloping the land in a stony hug.
I spend a little while watching cars maneuver the streets down below, wondering where people are headed. It’s nearly noon on a Sunday–I bet many people are making their way home from church.
I attempt to capture my view in a panoramic photo, reminding myself of my dad while doing so. The photo is (admittedly) underwhelming, but it’s hard to capture a view quite like this; a view so all-surrounding. Maybe a 360º camera would do it more justice. Or maybe it’s just the kind of thing you need to see for yourself.
A bee buzzes around me, brushing up against my arm as I take a few photos of my view. I imagine this nudging is the bee’s attempt to tell me to get off my phone and just enjoy the view right then and there. I let it nudge me a few more times before slipping my phone back into my pocket.
Slipping my backpack off my shoulder, I pull out some snacks that immediately make me feel like I’m in elementary school again. A peanut butter sandwich, fruit snacks, a Ziploc bag of baby carrots, and a chocolate chip granola bar. The only thing that’s missing is a Cosmic Brownie, or maybe a Twinkie. Weren’t Twinkies discontinued a few years ago? No, I saw some at the gas station yesterday–sandwiched between some powdered donuts and a bag of Takis dyed a jarringly blue color.
The bee is particularly interested in my peanut butter sandwich, so I eat that and the rest of my juvenile meal quickly. Eventually, I start to make my way back down the trail, paying careful attention to where I place my feet. I briefly wonder if fighting against the pull of gravity while walking downhill is almost as annoying as the toil of walking uphill. They’re both kinda miserable–that’s where I stand. But they sure do take you to cool places!
Another person passes me as I head back–a runner this time. I have no idea why anyone runs for fun, and I certainly can’t comprehend why someone would run uphill for fun. But to each their own! I chirp out the same “Hi!” as before, and she echoes it right back to me with a small wave.
I don’t run into anyone else for the rest of the hike. It’s just me, a gentle breeze, the mountains, and the music that continues to play in my right ear. The shuffled playlist has landed on “Love You For a Long Time” by Maggie Rogers, which I find myself lip syncing to as I make the final turn into the parking lot.
Finally, back in my car with the AC blasting, I pull out my journal and jot down many of the sentences that I’m typing up now. And boy are you lucky, reading this nice typed font and not my completely illegible handwriting. I got the chicken scratch from my dad–that and the panoramic photo-taking.