My Lesson from Walking the Timp Cave Trail.

Spring time brings the blessing of new life and a renewed energy. I use my new found energy several times a week when I walk to the opening of Timp Cave in American Fork Canyon. I try to walk to the cave every day, but until school is out, my schedule will only allow weekend hiking. I’ve been walking the cave ever season (May through October) for nearly twenty years. I come back every year as if drawn by the beauty of the hike and the fresh air of the canyon.
Walking the trail to the cave opening keeps you in fairly good shape. Many parts are very steep. The walk, if moving briskly, usually takes around thirty to forty minutes. After a week or so I usually can cut my time to below thirty minutes. I enjoy passing the tourists along the trail. I sneak up behind them. They can’t hear me because of their heavy breathing, coughing, snorting, and spitting. “Excuse me,” I say a few steps from their heals. They sometimes misstep by surprise or scuffle to open the way for me to pass. I zoom ahead through the opening and listen to hear their comments.
“How does he do it?” is a common comment.
“Pretty fast for a big guy,” is another I hear.
“He wouldn’t be going so fast it he had this kid strapped to his back,” I heard once from a dad clearly having trouble making it up the trail with his little girl dangling out of that back pack child carrier.


Once I’m clear of them and out of ear shot I slow down a bit to conserve energy for the next group of tourists and the passing scenario starts all over again. Once in awhile, if I’m really feeling the wind of the gods in my lungs, I’ll jog by a group. I usually pick up a “WHAT?” from the stunned, slow moving herd, before they’re out of ear shot. It’s all I need to motivate me to continue doing it day after day.
The cave opening is at the top of the trail. There is a large waiting area where people gather before their tour. Here you find one of the worlds largest congregations of red faced humans. They stand leaning against each other or sprawled out on the benches. They fan themselves with their tickets and argue over who drank too much of their precious water - the water that must last through the tour and the long trek down the mountain.
Once I see my captive audience, I shift into first gear and pick up my pace. I stand taller and round the corner moving as quickly as my chubby frame will allow. They look up and stare. Their eyes follow me to the trail’s end. I touch the hiker’s rock, turn around, and start down. They expect me to stop and tour the cave but when they see that pass the benches and start down I quickly become the topic of conversation. I’ve heard them asking the Rangers why I do it and where’s my water.
“He’s a walker,” the Rangers say. “They are a different breed all together.”

The best part of the hike is downhill for two reasons.
1. You are going downhill. A pure reward for 30 plus minutes of torture.
2. You get to pass the people again that you passed earlier going up!

It is fantastic to pass these folks going down. They look at you coming their direction. You see the puzzled look in their faces as they try to place where they saw you before. Their eyes grow large and their mouths drop open when their oxygen deprived memory reminds them that I was the one that passed them earlier on my way up to the cave.
“Did you go through the cave already?” they usually ask.
“I don’t go through the cave. I just walk the trail for exercise,” I say with a confident smile.
“Is he crazy?” is the next thing I usually hear. Its awesome. I recommend walking the Timp Cave Trail to anyone that enjoys the outdoors and wants a good exercise program.

My Lesson Today
Early today I got up and drove to the cave. I like to hit the trail at 8:00 A.M. just as the Rangers open the gate. I was sore today. Yesterday the trail opened for the season so my muscles, still in atrophy from the inactive winter, were giving me fits. My time was slower than usually but it was Sunday and Sunday is my ‘non exercise’ walk. It is my day to take the trail slowly and enjoy nature. Half way up the trail I heard a sound behind me. It wasn’t close behind me but close enough to be heard. I turned around. In the distance was another trail walker. I didn’t know his name but I recognized him. He is younger and leaner than me and usually hikes the trail twice a day. He moves at a quick pace. He likes to pass everyone. Last season he was able to pass me . I didn’t want that to happen today. I picked up my pace. I went from my Sunday walk to my Monday walk.
At the 3/4 marker I noticed he was getting closer. He was breathing hard. My lungs were on overtime’s overtime. I wanted to slow down but there is this side of me that enjoys a good competition and I had one on my hands. I kept going. He kept trying to close the distance. The cave opening was getting closer. I rounded the last corner near the toilets and started up the most dangerous part of the trail. The trail follows the contour of the mountain and this section of the mountain is a cliff. One misstep and you will have a nasty fall on your hands. You must keep your eyes on the trail until you reach the waiting area.
I glanced off the trail at to find where he was. I saw him just below. I wanted to get an idea of his pace so I watched him for a few seconds. Thoughts of him beating me over and over again last year kept me focused on the distance between us. Suddenly I realized that I was walking dangerously close to the edge. I quickly put my eyes back on the trail and straightened my walk. My heart was beating faster and I chastised myself for being ‘so stupid’. I reached the Hiker’s Rock, touched it, and ended the day’s competition. I started down the trail. We passed each other with a “Good morning” and a comment on the amount of snow covering some parts of the trail.
I thought for a moment on the lesson I learned about keeping my eyes on the trail. The life lesson was apparent. So often we become preoccupied with the past. We keep our eyes behind us instead of focussed on the hear and now. Living like this will end if tragedy - like me nearly walking off the edge. Keeping our eyes on the past can lead to a loss of direction in life.
I encourage all to learn this lesson I was reminded of today on the Timp Cave Trail. Keep your eyes on today. The Lord gave you Today. It is a gift so make the very best of it. Don’t keep looking at the past. It is done and lived out. There is nothing you can do to change it. You can control the present. You are living it right now. Keep your eyes on the trail. Focus on where you are going but live for today. Love the people around you. Make good choices. Keep your eyes on the goal. It is a lesson we all need to relearn from time to time. Leave the past in the past. Live for Today. Make each moment count. The future will take care of itself if you choose to do the right today.

Enjoy your week.
Mr. Williamson

News from the Space Center (With Some Side Distractions)

by Mr. Williamson

I’m tired today. I woke up too early and couldn’t go back to sleep. I reached for the TV Guide. A couple pages usually sends me back into unconsciousness. It didn’t work. I actually got through an article on Hannah Montana. Up until now I thought that was a small two horse Montana town a sneeze off Canada’s border. Kind of like Sidney Montana, the place I was born. Who ever heard of Sidney Montana? Its one of those towns you don’t mind saying ‘your from’. It automatically gives you some credit for attaining something in life even if you spend your days at an intersection holding a cup and poster saying “Save Yourself the next 5 minutes of Guilt and drop some Cash into the Cup!”.

Actually, If I had to live in Sidney today, I would consider joining the Peace Corps and accepting a position in Botswana, a nation in Africa right off the Coast of Despair. According to me, a very reliable source, the best thing to come out of Sidney was my family. When I was a toddler, just growing out of the cricket eating stage, my parents moved our trailer from Sidney to Spearfish, South Dakota. Would you like an analogy? Its like moving from a house with one bathroom to a house with two. No..... that isn’t quite correct. It is like moving to a house with two bathrooms AND a car port. This analogy can’t have a garage until I tell you about our move to Rapid City - but that is another story.

I learned how to crawl in Spearfish. I spent my days crawling around our trailer’s front door. I found I had an appetite for South Dakota dirt . That Montana stuff was too sandy for my liking and too hard on my toothless gums. I think I owe my current tolerance to almost any kind of food to those early, earth eating days.

I don’t remember living in that small trailer. I rely on my mother’s nostalgic memory for that. I’m told It was parked beside my grandparent’s garage, right off an alley lined with garbage cans and rusted bikes with flat tires. This is all great material for my future run for the White House. Everyone wishing to become President must have some kind of humble beginning. Abe Lincoln had his log cabin in the country and I have my Airstream trailer in the alley without a name. Most of time it was referred to as the place to “Toss it there, nobody will see”.

Now look...... I’m off track. You see what I mean when I tell you I’m tired today? What was I talking about? Hannah Montana? Let’s skip that and move on.

I want to write about the week’s happenings at the Space Center. I hope I have the time now that I’ve spewed several paragraphs about my childhood. I also must get back to my Mario Kart. I have a Wii. Yes, I’m a grown man with his own Wii. Come on, a guy has to have some fun in life! Wow, what a game system.

The last system I owned was a Pong system my grandmother bought me from Kmart in the 1970’s. It was unbelievable. There was this ball that moved from side to side on your TV screen. The object of the game was to hit the ball to the other side of the TV with your sliding controller. It was amazing! Our home became the primary source of after school entertainment for most of the kids in the neighborhood. We played Pong morning, noon, and night nonstop for about two days. After two days, something about the game became annoying. On the third day it was shoved under the TV. On the fourth day we forgot we owned it. We were back on our bikes, spending the afternoons at the dirt hills having dirt clod fights with the kids from the neighborhood.

Dirt clods can hurt - especially when thrown at close range by the star of the Little League team. Screams and tears would flow when dirt clods and heads came together at great speeds. The injured would jump on thier bikes and rushed home to mother. Most moms back then would look at the growing lump on the side your head, clean the blood away and ask if you were “Stupid, or something?”. Once cleaned up it was back to the dirt hills. You fought to the last kid standing - or until you got called home for supper.

OK..... I went off again.
Let’s get this done quickly. We did really well at the Space Center this last week. Spenser R. ripped the walls out of the Captain’s Quarters because of mold from the leaking roof (don’t get me started on that story).

The training by MP3 is getting better. I’m past wanting to flush them down the toilet. They have some use. We got new chairs for the Phoenix and Odyssey. The other ones were falling apart. They look cool. Alex A. is getting close to finishing the Phoenix controls. He has time to program and chat with the female staff now. I warned him about writing code and talking to girls. Not a good combination if you want to write error free code. Kids from all over Utah visited the Center this last week. Some kids came from as far away as Cedar City. We had a small overnight camp. Only 28 kids from Sego Lily. It was nice running a camp with small numbers. It almost seems like your not working at all. Bracken fixed the nozzle on the Voyager’s smoke machine. Before, most of the smoke intended for the Bridge ended up in the Control Room. Now, according to Bridger, the Left Wing kids disappear in the fog. You know they’re there because of the coughing and gasping - you can’t see them but you can hear them!
Wow, I got it all in. I think I’ll get back to my Mario Kart for the Wii.

I’m playing online now. A few hours ago I was up against kids from Japan, Germany, and France. I give them grief..... not because I win all the time - I wish. I cause them grief because I’m always in last place and Mario Kart gives the guy in last place the Dreaded Spiked Shell that speeds ahead when released, hunting down and attacking the character in first place. I Love IT.

Take Care and I’ll see you all at the Center!
Mr. Williamson

My Day on Crosswalk Duty

by Mr. Williamson
Director

Every morning at 8:45 A.M. I leave the emails, accounts, simulators, and other Space Education Center issues to put on my “pumpkin suit”, - a florescent orange with pee yellow stripes safety vest. Another ‘hat’ I wear, that you may not be aware of, is that of a crossing guard. Every morning for eight years, I’ve welcomed the students of Central Elementary School at the corner of 100 East and 400 North. I sometimes stand and sometimes pace back and forth at the crosswalk trying to pass the 20 minutes with “Good mornings” to the students as they walk by and a few jolly waves at the cars. I’m not one who initiates the wave but I’ll always return one.
I get to see the seasons change over my 180 days on the street. I bake in the summer and freeze in the winter. Some days I hide from the Arctic wind behind my red and white umbrella. Other days it is hard to see the cars through the blowing snow. I’ve come very close to planting my face into the street because of icy roads - saved only by an entertaining step dance accompanied by frailing arms followed by an embarrassed expression and laughing children.
I volunteer for this morning responsibility. It is a gift to the teachers of Central School. Without having to do morning duty they can spend more time in their classrooms preparing lessons. I benefit as well. Without duty I would never leave the darkness of the cloistered world of a Space Center Director.
One morning last week, I had the job of greeting a new student to Central. My usuals had crossed and moved toward the building;
The three buddies - three third grade boys inseparable in friendship. They run down the hill hiding behind telephone poles and street signs. They call it the car game. You run when there are no cars and hide when you see one. Don’t worry if you don’t get it - it is a third grade thing.
Then there are the younglings - a kindergarten and second grade brother and sister who always have something from the dollar store to show me. I do my best to have an amazing comment for each treasure. Sometimes all they get is a ‘Interesting’, like last Tuesday when she showed me a dinosaur with a missing left leg. “Cheap Chinese rubbish,” I said. She didn’t understand so I said “Interesting”.
‘Silence’ is the girl that never responds to anything I say. She crosses stone faced. I know she is a Vulcan. She does a good job hiding her pointed ears but you can’t fool an old Star Trek fan.
My entire reason for living has changed from turning the Space Center into an international franchise into getting her to laugh. Start with big dreams but learn to accept small victories. The “Pack” is the gaggle of sixth grade girls that walk slowly down the hill. The reason for this crawl is to arrive just as the bell rings to avoid an additional two to three minutes of class time. They are my kind of people! Why spend more time in purgatory then required ;)
I can’t forget the “Sprinters”. They try to beat me to the crosswalk in the morning. They move slowly toward the crosswalk - watching for me to exit the school's doors. Suddenly I come into view. Their little legs sprint into action to beat me to the crosswalk . I let them win from time to time. I enjoy seeing their smiles extend from ear to ear.
One day last week, a different car pulled up on the opposite side of the street. A lady I didn't recognize, accompanied by a young girl, stepped from the car. I walked out into the empty street and belted out my usual "Good Morning". The lady smiled and responded with the usual reply. The little girl hesitated while looking me over carefully. She gave a smile that had that ‘Stranger Danger’ feel.
“It’s her first day here at Central,” the mom said.
“You’re new to our school?” I responded by bending over to speak directly to the girl.
“Yes,” she replied.
They walked onto the sidewalk and started toward the school. I turned back to the street and found my Vulcan approaching. I started thinking of something clever to say when I felt a tugging at my pant leg. I looked down and saw Central’s newest kindergartner looking up at me with big brown eyes.
“Iths my firtht day at thchool!” she said with excitement. I looked up at her mom. She was smiling.
“Well, we are glad your here with us. You’ll love your new teacher,” I said in the sing song voice one uses with children.
“I’m five,” she continued completely oblivious to my last statement. At that, she released my leg and ran back to her mother. Hand in hand they entered the school.
It was a simple exchange of words but the meaning was profound. This young girl was embarking on a journey in life that would take years to complete. Pure excitement was reflected in her eyes. She loved being at school.
I thought how wonderful it would be if we could bottle that excitement and use it as the primary ingredient in the school lunch program. What a difference it would make.
Just then the Vulcan stepped up on the curb and passed me without a word. Her look was one of complete indifference. What had happened to her from kindergarten to whatever grade she was in? One day I’ll get her to laugh. There is nothing else that matters now. That which was - must be restored again! I am the Spirit of Education! I will find the lost and abandoned. I will recharge the lifeless and bring a spark back to imaginations in atrophy!
Or....... I’ll take off my pumpkin suit and go back to emails, accounts, phone calls, and the simulators.
Or...........
Isn’t it great to have the ability and opportunity to make a difference? I’ll choose to make a difference.
That little girl created a memory that will help me work through the tough days.