Rise

Joshua Jensen
Period: 1
8/27/14

Breathless. The trees, the flowers, the horizon, all seem to blur into one. I think, I cant
continue. This stupid hike is not even worth it. My legs, shaking with dehydration, seem as though
they will collapse at any moment. My stomach turns. I can feel the vomit snake its way up my
throat. Chills rush up the back of my spine. My head spins. I drop to my knees. My hands quiver as I
bow to the ground and permit the vomit to escape. I think, Why didnt you just listen to Dad? I
recount the events that led up to this.
Arrogance will always return to stab you in the back. I learned this lesson early in life. My
mother always told me not to play with the oven or microwave. However, being just five years old, I
didnt see the harm in baking library books. I sincerely believed that the books would come to life if
I cooked them in the oven. To my surprise, my mother was right about playing with the oven. The
library books caught fire and, luckily, my mother discovered what I had done just in time to put it
out. Never assume you know more than someone else, particularly elders.
The night before, I lie restless contemplating what the following day has in store. I
remember my grandpa telling me how he scaled the backside of Timpanogos Mountain. He is
exceedingly euphoric about the tale. Scared that I was neither brave nor strong enough, I begin to
wonder what my experience will be like. The anticipation eats at me. I feel slightly comforted
knowing that we are actually hiking on a trail, unlike my grandpa. Suddenly, the lights illuminate
the room as my dad enters; its time to go.
Just before the crack of dawn, my dad and I arrive at the parking lot by the trailhead. The
crisp refreshing air blasts into my lungs as I step out of our car. The brilliant sound of silence
gratifies my soul with peace. The aroma of pine trees drenches the air. I can hardly see the foot of
the trail off in the distance. Interrupting my trance, my dad shouts, You ready? Lets get this party
started!

Joshua Jensen
Period: 1
8/27/14
The moment we began the hike was the same moment I wanted to finish it. My legs burst
into motion up the trail. The echo of my dad yelling, Slow down. This hike will take all day, you
need to save your energy.
I figure, He only thinks its a long hike because hes so out of shape.
I continue running, flooded with energy. The wind sweetly caresses my face as I dash up the
trail. The undeniable thrill of childhood refreshes my soul. Unstoppable, I feel as though I can run
forever. I feel like Flash. Superman. Whatever I want to be. Until reality set in. I am now exhausted
and sick. Vomit everywhere.
My eyes swell with tears as the thoughts of regret and bleakness overwhelm me. My dad
approaches me with a smile on his face. I look up at him in despair and cry, Im done. I quit. I want
to go home dad.
His grin widens as he responds, Son, if you quit now, I promise you will regret it later. You
are a tough kid; I believe you are capable of doing hard things. But if you really want to go home Ill
take you. Its your choice.
I think, Well when you put it like that it sure doesnt sound like my choice.
After I contemplate for a couple seconds, I gradually rise. Most of the time you wont
succeed without failing first. One of the most challenging feats is telling that voice of
disappointment, regret, fear, shame, and discouragement, that all come from failure, to shut up.
Everybody slips and falls. But it is our decision whether or not we stand up, shake it off, and keep
on moving. I make my decision. Wiping the tears from my face I say, Okay Dad, lets finish this
hike. He passes me a water bottle to rinse out and hydrate. We continue hiking while I follow
behind him at a rational pace, this time.
Immediately, I flashback to age twelve. On a hot summer afternoon, my mom and I went on
a walk. I express my feelings of anguish and longing to be older. I just want to fast-forward to when

Joshua Jensen
Period: 1
8/27/14
Im in high school, Im sick of middle school, I whined. She laughed and studied my eyes as though
she could read my mind.
Smiling she replied, Pace yourself, life is not a race; its a journey. Find joy in that journey. I
rolled my eyes at the time, but I finally understand what she means. I recognize how centering all
my focus on the arrival of my final destination destroys that beauty. The scenery along the way is
beautiful too; I just need to look with an open mind and an open heart.
Being so lost in thought, I dont realize we are approaching Emerald Lake until my dad turns
around and shouts, You know what this means right? Were more than halfway there; lets take a
break and have some lunch. I sigh with relief as we sit on the earth to enjoy our food. My heart is
full of gratitude for the beauty that surrounds me. The lake shimmers while reflecting the infinite
atmosphere above.
I smile as I think, For once, food isnt the reward for doing something hard. I have
discovered a deeper gratitude for the basic things around me.
An hour has passed. Its time to continue the journey. We cross a field of boulders as we
approach the spot known as The Saddle. Only six hundred feet of altitude to conquer until we
touch summit. The view off the side is spectacular. Breathless. This time not from sickness but from
pure beauty. With the entire Utah Valley in my sight, I tell my dad, Im totally good with stopping
here Im content with this.
He looks surprised and somewhat humored by my comment. Are you freaking kidding me?
We have less than 600 feet to go, and youre going to quit now? You are 11,000 feet off the ground;
you would be throwing away all your hard work if you give up now. No. You are finishing this hike,
no question. So up we go.
I make it across the 600-foot path struggling with every stride; I somehow complete the
journey with the last push of motivation my dad gave me. The air becomes thinner, yet somehow

Joshua Jensen
Period: 1
8/27/14
tastes richer, with every step I take. Almost there. Up ahead, I see the last switchback. The final
climb approaches.
There is no growth in the comfort zone; there is no comfort in the growth zone-Steve
Clark. Boy does this quote prove true on the last stretch to the summit. With the peak in my view, I
am determined to get there. I will not quit now. I gasp for air as my legs struggle to climb the final
hundred feet. My eyes fix on the summit still, feeding my body with just enough strength to push
forward. I see people radiating with joy up ahead as they reach their final destination. A young man
thrusts his arms to the sky in bliss upon his arrival. I crave his aura. Suddenly, I discover additional
strength in my legs as the adrenaline rushes through my body. I dart ahead of my dad shouting as I
pass, Race you to the top old man.
I hear him chuckle, In your dreams. We playfully push each other as we make our final
ascension to the peak.
Incomparable ecstasy. Overwhelmed with emotion. Unstoppable. I feel as though I can
accomplish anything. My lungs are filled with the finest air I have ever tasted. I see all the others
around me signing a log saying they conquered Mount Timpanogos. I rush over to sign my name.
Gratitude enlarges my heart as I think how supportive my dad has been throughout this entire
journey. I turn to him, almost in tears of joy, We did it. Thank you for pushing me to get here, I
couldnt have done it without you.
He smiles, You did it. You were always capable of doing hard things like this; you just didnt
realize your potential. Arent you glad you didnt give up? Hard work pays off, doesnt it? Look at
that view. Lets get a picture on the top of this beast of a mountain we just dominated! Eleven
thousand-seven hundred feet above sea level, over one mile in the air. We stand arm in arm with
the view of the entire Utah Valley behind us as a stranger captures the unforgettable moment with
our camera.