Our Story. Part 2
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Immediately after I decided to kick it up a notch, I felt like I had made a mistake. The weekend in Southern Utah was supremely awesome for countless reasons, however, at the time, I didn't credit any of them to Mark.
We arrived at our camping spot in the wee hours of the morning and laid out our crinkly tarp and sleeping bags. I was wedged between Mark and another guy - who it seemed like was trying to send vibes my way. I tried not to pay him any heed knowing that Mark was the designated male I was supposed to be paying attention to. Awkward. However, aside from the conversation on the car ride down, Mark hadn't appeared to be putting forth any more effort in interacting with me despite several failed attempts to engage him. I wasn't too surprised or bothered considering this is what I had prepared myself for after I realized back at the house that he was the "I-know-I'm-really-really-good-looking" guy from Institute. If there was one thing I could respect the guy for though, it was that he could appreciate nature. After the silliness of wiggling our bums around in our bags so that we could achieve a perfect groove in the dirt free of any rocks, we all turned quiet so we could take in the splendor of the night sky. I mentally separated myself from the crowd I was with and just for a moment tried to exist as part of the environment - unobtrusive, silent, and wide-eyed. It was an awesome moment. I am always torn at the notion of closing my eyes for sleep while I am underneath the stars. How can one shut their eyes when there is such an incredible display of beauty before them!
The moment came to an abrupt end when the boys started flatulating. Satisfied with having made it to our destination and now my conclusion that Mark really wasn't interested if he was letting it rip in front of me, I decided it was time to close my eyes and go to sleep.
We hiked the Subway Trail in Zion. It was gorgeous and breath-taking every step of the way. I can remember the vivid red mountains, evergreens growing off the sides of cliffs, and the rushing water that paralleled the trail. Mark and I didn't mingle on the trail at all. He walked on the East side of the river. I walked on the West. He put himself as far away as he could from me in group pictures. He ate his lunch standing up. I ate my lunch sitting down. He wore Keens. I wore Chacos.
First group picture of the trip.
Mark not looking too happy that he got stuck next to me in this one.
Me judgmentally thinking, "Why is he standing over us?"
By the end of the trail, there were only three of us left of our original ten - Mark, the other guy, and me. We wet-suited up so we could continue the trail through the narrows where we would be up to our necks in water from the spring run-off. It was a bit miserable entering the ice-cold water so the other guy stepped it up and helped me. Mark went up ahead. After going as far as we could in the narrows, we turned around and headed back to where we had suited up and left the rest of our gear. Mark finished the last 8 miles of the hike by himself. The last I saw him, I was looking at the back of his head. The other guy snapped this picture documenting Mark's mad dash.
Leaving me in the dust.
The reason they call it the Subway.
Contrary to Mark's mad dash, I took it nice and easy on the way back.
Taking my second lunch break of the day.
Mark made it back before me and the other guy. As a testimony of how anxious he was to put space between him and I, he made it back three hours before me and the other guy! Talk about a statement!
We finished the weekend in Southern Utah and made our way back to Salt Lake. All of us exchanged pictures back at the house where we had originally all met up. In passing, on his way out of the room where we were congregated Mark said to me, "We should do something together sometime." I cordially responded, "Yeah, that would be nice." I thought he was just giving lip service...
