"Look, it's going into the mountains. Steve and I will get it for you."
Sam whipped his phone out of his pocket and within seconds, had me on the phone.
"Steve, lace up your running shoes..."
The balloon was last seen floating up Farmington canyon, so we met there before sunrise. Sam squatted down and drew out a plan for the search in the dirt. We then turned on our headlamps and headed up the canyon at a steady pace, enjoying the quiet sunrise as we slowly jogged up the canyon. At 8 miles we arrived at the Skyline Gate. Guarded by the spirits of injured trail monkeys of winters past, we knew that once we passed through the gate, we would have to traverse the entire skyline drive and descend out of the Bountiful side or risk other season ending injuries attempting to go back through the gate. We bravely swallowed some Clif Bloks and headed through, knowing we couldn't dissapoint little Winston.
"Steve, lace up your running shoes..."
The balloon was last seen floating up Farmington canyon, so we met there before sunrise. Sam squatted down and drew out a plan for the search in the dirt. We then turned on our headlamps and headed up the canyon at a steady pace, enjoying the quiet sunrise as we slowly jogged up the canyon. At 8 miles we arrived at the Skyline Gate. Guarded by the spirits of injured trail monkeys of winters past, we knew that once we passed through the gate, we would have to traverse the entire skyline drive and descend out of the Bountiful side or risk other season ending injuries attempting to go back through the gate. We bravely swallowed some Clif Bloks and headed through, knowing we couldn't dissapoint little Winston.
On our way to our next destination, Farmington Lake, we found the treasure we had been looking for! Sam discovered the lost balloon hanging on an aspen. Sam tucked the balloon safely into his pack, and with a sudden burst of energy, we continued our journy upward. Soon we arrived at and passed Farmington Lake. Then we arrived at the ridgeline and began the final ascent towards Bountiful summit. We began looking for a side trail to take us off the road and to the summit, but we missed it. Unfortunately, we didn't want to make a false summit, so we started descending towards Bountiful.
Just as we were deciding that we had missed our chance, we heard thunderous footsteps. Running up Skyline drive towards us was none other than Raul Bunyon. The often overlooked younger brother of Paul Bunyon. One hundred feet tall if he was an inch. From his lofty view, he could see which mountain was the summit. We asked him if he would put a summit monkey up there for us, and with his long outstretched arm, reached out and placed a monkey there for us. We thanked him and began our descent.
Nearing the bottom around mile 24, we were running low on water. We knew we wouldn't make it the remaining 9 miles on the shoreline trail without some aid. The I spotted it. A giant wasp nest the size of a basketball was hanging just over what appeared to be a cooler full of Coke and water. I bravely kicked the board from which it hung to the side and quickly grabbed the needed drinks. The wasps began to swarm and we ran for our lives down the shoreline trail.
With 8 miles still to go, and finally having excaped the wasps, we began running down the single track trail on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. However, it wasn't long before The owner of the drinks suddenly realized that we had taken some of his precious Coke and the next thing we knew, we were running down hill avoiding bullets. The shots were close. Very close. And just as we thought we were about to make it to safety, Sam cried out that his pack had been hit. He was leaking salt at an extraordinary rate. I looked and sure enough, both of his shoulder straps were already turning white. We knew if we didn't hurry to safety, Sam wouldn't make it.
I pushed and prodded him as best I could, but it was starting to look like he wasn't going to make it. We passed Parrish Lane, Ricks Canyon, and finally Davis Creek Trailhead. But it was no use. With only 2 miles to go, the Salt had bled out of Sam to the point where he couldn't make it up any more hills. I begged to stay with him, but he insisted that I get the balloon back to Winston. I knew he was right. With sadness in my heart, I left him behind and took the balloon. I lenghthened my stride and finished the last two miles strong. Then, with one last glimpse of hope, I drove back to the location I had last seen Sam, hoping against hope that he would still be alive.
His lifeless body lay on the sidewalk. Salt stains covered his shirt pack. I lowered my head and wept over the loss, but in my heart I knew that we had done the right thing. With one last glipse of hope, I poured the last of my poweraid on his pale face, and waited for a response. Then, a smile slowly began to spread across his face.
The End.


















