A nickname I approve of.

My parents have a new nickname for me—"vaga." Vaga in Spanish is a bit of a slang word (the true meaning of the word gets lost in translation) but let it suffice to say that it basically has the same denotation of "wild child."

Their reasoning: I've been almost state hopping like it's nobody's business & fitting in every adventure possible into my final-spring-term-as-an-undergrad existence. There was that time I was visiting the Salt Flats which happen to be less than 10min away from the Nevada-Utah border, that one trip to Moab where I was practically in Colorado, and then this weekend I actually crossed over into Wyoming.

This is the story.
My awesome roommate Katie (who just got a blog. huzzah!) has this neat little National Parks passport where you can stamp a page to document your visits. Turns out there's a national park just 20min from us at the Timpanogos Caves. Better believe we woke up at 5:40ish on a Friday just to visit the caves. The caves were cool (pun INTENDED) and the steep hike up to opening of the cave nothing short of invigorating. Our little tour made me want to roam through the mountains of Utah and discover new caves however, I realized that this would mean I would first have to hike mountains through un-trailed terrains. no bueno.

post-caves.
Katie found she had a voicemail from a mystery person in our ward inviting us to spend the weekend at her cabin.
sold.
Turns out, the mystery person was Katie's visiting teacher, Allison. As soon as we got home we got to packing (my Moab duffel bag was still un-unpacked at this point) and in less than two hours were on our way to Robertson, WY.

Oh Robertson, WY how I loved you. With your four wheeling trails, indian kissing bridge, junk food galore, plethora of board games, trees for hatchet throwing, small pond for canoeing, playful horses, corn shucking, getting pulled over on the way back, and overall good company.

let's be friends again soon.

CAVES.

POST-CAVES.