BWW Blog: Kelly McCormick of PTC's LES MIS - Hiking in the Wasatch Mountains

As I've mentioned in previous blogs, hiking in the Wasatch Mountains is absolutely spectacular. So spectacular, in fact, I've been known to get impatient with the trail I'm on and just scramble up a steep incline as if I'm a mountain goat (all the while, I hear my dad's voice in my head saying, "THIS IS NOT SAFE."). Sorry, Dad. It's so worth it when you're greeted at the top of a peak with a field of wild daisies with hummingbirds dashing from bloom to bloom and the world stretched out before you. Of course, no amount of your own stretching afterward will get rid of the week of muscle pain that follows such an impulsive hillside dash. . . but I digress.

The view from atop Grandeur Peak - there are hummingbirds in those wild daisies! Downtown SLC is toward the upper right-hand side.

Our Bishop, David Spencer, sent me a fantastic website where you can input different parameters (time, distance, degree of incline, etc.) to come up with your perfect hike. I've spent hours on this site, researching many destinations. There's Silver Lake, up at the top of Big Cottonwood Canyon, where, with very little effort, you can walk a mile on a boardwalk that encircles a placid lake that reflects the snowcapped peaks and the bluest sky on its serene surface. Once, I saw a moose there. There's Ensign Peak, a stone's throw from downtown Salt Lake City, which affords spectacular views of the entire valley and the Great Salt Lake after a short but steep trek. There are, literally, hundreds of trails and canyons, with all their nooks and crannies to explore along the way.

Silver Lake

The other day, I went to the site and input my parameters: 2-4 hours at a fast pace, moderately steep, under 5 miles. Bingo! The search engine gave me a few choices, and I chose Circle All Peak from the Butler Fork Trailhead, also in Big Cottonwood Canyon. It was listed as a pretty steep (9 out of 10) but quick hike, 3 miles in length, that had southeastern views of the entire valley and the Wasatch Range as you climbed 1527 feet. Perfect! I looked up driving directions to the trailhead, slathered on some SPF 45, grabbed my backpack and dashed out the door.

Very soon, I encountered problem #1: most folks that live around here know the canyons so well, they don't need driving directions . . . so the ones I found online were sketchy in some areas, and downright wrong in others. I managed to get myself headed up Big Cottonwood Canyon, feeling certain that soon enough I'd find the Butler Fork Trailhead.

Wrong.

After following signs for the exact mile marker that I needed, there was a parking lot . . . not a trailhead . . . but, whatever. I parked and started walking . . . and eventually found a trailhead. There was no name on it, but a big sign with a map of the entire canyon. So I had to be kinda close, right?

Wrong again.

But what followed was incredible. Within 200 yards, I found myself crossing a footbridge over a gushing mountain stream. A well-maintained, gravelly path stretched out ahead of me, and up I went. When it forked, I stayed toward the side where I could still hear the rushing water. About a mile in, I heard voices, and followed them - I found myself at Donut Falls, a destination I had read about, but was definitely not part of today's hiking plan! I took a few minutes to cross the 20-foot-wide stream (no footbridge, this time) and enjoy the sunshine from a rocky perch. Splish-sploshing through the water, soaked to my mid-calves, I looked up at the sky and thought, "I could not be happier in this moment."

I headed back to the trail, following it upward, choosing between a dozen different forks in the next hour. I had no idea where I was, and never got to a peak . . . and it didn't matter at all.

View from the unnamed trailhead

Happy splish-sploshing stream.

Taking a detour from the path: we all know how often this happens onstage, even in a show we've been doing for weeks, months or years. In fact, often there's nothing actors, crew or the audience enjoy more than something going wrong onstage - and how we work it out. Or, on a smaller scale, what could be more fun than going off-script (with permission, of course)? In PTC's Les Mis, we have the "Chadlib." That's an adlib courtesy of our Combeferre, Chad Coudriet (who has introduced words like "Scallywag" and "Tomfoolery" to the Barricade).

There's an adage: Man plans, God laughs. Sometimes I think that's true. But sometimes, I think the adage could be: Man plans, it doesn't happen, and we both enjoy just going along for the ride.

(By the way, my husband tells me that adage is Yiddish in origin. He's a rabbi. I believe him.)

Having a plan, a scaffold, a hiking trail and a map - these are great things that give us a framework of safety. But diverging from them can show us unbelievable - and unexpected - beauty and creativity. And a lot of laughs.

Speaking of laughs and going off-script, have you all seen the TROUBLE video that our cast made? It was the brain child of - and filmed by - Perry Sherman (Marius) and produced by Josh Davis (Javert):

Whatever your plans for the week ahead, I hope your path is littered with little moments of unexpected happiness. Enjoy the ride.