Living life on the edge is a dangerous proposition, but I would argue that it is worth it if you want to live a fun and exciting life. My friends and I found out one cold winter morning that it might be terrifying to put your life on the line to hike a steep mountain, but it is so worth it when you think of how much fun it is to snowboard down the other side. If you are willing to push your limits and live on the edge of your abilities, then you can learn where your limits are and how to improve youself in those areas. If you are not, then you are missing out on what this life has to offer!

It’s 4:40 AM and I’m staring at dark black coffee grounds. I smile as the steaming water starts to drip into the pot. I’m up for what we call “Dawn Patrol.” Beating the sunrise to snowboard with my friends. Our snowboards and boots are gathered by the door while we eat breakfast. We load the car and make our way up Logan Canyon. The homies and I have been eyeing Wood Camp Hollow for a couple of weeks now, and we figured this morning was the best time to hike it.

The ride up the canyon was full of stoke. We knew that we had a big climb ahead of us, but the run down would be more than worth it. Fresh snow was on our minds and we wouldn't let anything slow us down. We pull into the trailhead and gear up. With headlamps on our heads, we trekked up the snowy trail in single file. The cold, dark air clouded with steam as heavy breaths fall from our mouths. The trail weaved in and out of trees and bushes and over frozen creek beds. As we made our way up the mountain side, so did the sun. The first light was relieving as we could turn off our lights and could start to see the top of what we were climbing. The higher the sun rose, the more we could feel the warmth on our backs; we knew this meant that the icy hard snow would soon soften for better traction on the steepest section ahead.

We trudged along one step at a time. Suddenly, our lovely morning became shady and cold. The sun became hidden as overcast clouds covered the sky and strong winds blew debris all about. Now that the sun was gone, the icy snow had no way to thaw. At this point we had made it most of the way to the ridge—just a few hundred feet of elevation to gain before the summit—so we decided to push forward. We were not sure about our equipment though. The snow was too icy to grip. We’re worried about slipping and falling down the steep face and over cliffs below.

I was struggling with the climb. I couldn’t step more than few inches at a time without slipping. Focus was my priority. I could not make any mistakes.

I had to ponder for a bit “what was I doing up here.” The risks were high and the reward was questionable. Risk death for a quick ride on a snowboard down a mountain? It seemed like the best thing in the world an hour ago! I was too worried about why I was out here. I lost focus, my ski edge skidded out from under me, and I fell a few feet down. I arrested my fall and got back to my feet. Instead of continuing my internal debate, I let my instincts guide me. I quickly took off my skis and packed them away. It was just as nerve-wracking to boot pack up. Three kicks would make for a decent enough toe-hold. A good couple stabs into the snow with my trekking poles just to pull upward. I was scared, but the fright was fueling my determination to make it to safety. All of us had been struggling just the same, but we had to keep going. Before I knew it the slope began to level out and we found ourselves peering over the edge of the world. We were at the top; we had never been so happy in our lives!

Hugs and hi-fives were exchanged. We all had to sit for a while and breathe in the fresh mountain air to calm our nervous minds. We felt as if we had just cheated death! We all smiled again as we looked over the other side of the ridge. We were stoked! The boards hit the ground and we strapped in. We all dropped in one after another. The snow was deeper and softer than we expected. All the effort and terror fell away; we were all in heaven. We shouted and hollered as we rode down. We made long turns through the powder, sent big airs off cliffs into untracked landings, and kicked up huge powder sprays covering ourselves whole. The three of us made it back to the creek bed on the best natural high you could have ever experienced. We agreed it to be the best run we had ever taken. A quick one-foot ride down the trail led us back to the car. We were exhausted, but oh so satisfied.

The limits that we impose on ourselves only hold us back from what we are really capable of doing. We found our limits of fear and ability that morning. Our determination to make it to the top was all the help we needed, and our reward was more than a quick run on a snowboard. We learned valuable skills about focus and willingness that will stick with us for the rest of our lives.