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One summer while my hike-loving Dad was in town, I organized some girls from the neighborhood who needed to go on a tough hike to pass off one of their requirements for camp certification. We decided to climb Mt. Timpanogos.
I thoroughly enjoyed the hike until we got to the top of the mountain, which is a long narrow rocky ridge. We wanted to slide down a glacier on the east side, which meant we needed to follow the trail along the rocky ridge for half a mile, maybe even a mile. For someone who doesn't like heights, it was terrifying. The trail was only a few feet wide with a low wall of rock on the left and a sheer drop on the right.
At one point I saw a big horn sheep laying on the slope about 100 feet below the trail. I thought, "If even big horn sheep can lose their footing and fall to their death up here, I'm in big trouble."
Then the sheep suddenly got to its feet and trotted off. It was not dead, just asleep.
Even so, I'm not sure I'll ever go up to the top of that mountain again.