I don't understand my 7 y.o. daughter. I love her dearly, she's a great kid and a joy to have around the house, but I just don't get her sometimes.

She's is school and turning into a young lady faster than I think she should. A few weeks ago my wife mentioned to me that she "liked" a boy in her class. I asked her about it at dinner and it turned into the most awkward 30 minutes of my life. She stared at the ground and wouldn't talk to me. Then she started crying. The crying I don't get. I should, I grew up with 5 sisters. Girls crying is nothing new, but they were my sisters.

I understand our 2 year old when she cries. She's 2, that's what they do. But a 7 year old crying? My daughter crying? I just don't get it.

On Saturday, we needed to have some daddy daughter time. I decided to take her on a hike. We drove down to Zion National Park. We chatted a bit about the clouds, the mountains and the cows. I told her that I had a special hike in mind, but that it would be difficult. We set some ground rules. No whining or crying. Keep moving forward, even if we're moving very, very slowly. No crying or whining. Listen to what dad says. Hold on to the ropes and chains. And above all else, no whining or crying.

We we got to the parking lot at Weeping Rock and unloaded our packs. "we've already done this hike dad! It's easy" no honey, we aren't going to weeping rock. Look up as high as you can to the south. Do you see that pine tree all by itself? There is a secret place hiding behind it called Hidden Canyon. That's where we are going.

We we start up the trail. The entire thing is covered in ice. We go over where to step. Look for rocks sticking through the ice and step on those. See where the snow is still crunchy? Step there. It it looks wet, avoid those spots. I explain the inside part of the trail versus the outside part of the trail. Stick to the inside as much as you can because if you slip on the outside it's 1500 feet straight down to the car. Use the hiking poles to help you. Slowly but surely, we inch our way to the top.

Halfway up I noticed something. We are passing people, and not just the out of shape, underprepared tourists. We're passing real hikers!

Something else caught my eye. My kid hasn't slipped on the ice. Even I had slipped on the ice, but not her.

We get to the interesting part. To get into Hidden Canyon you traverse a 200 foot section of trail carved out of a nearly vertical cliff face. Hold onto the chain honey. You don't have to walk sideways. You can walk normal, just keep one hand on the chain the whole time. It makes dad nervous when you lean out over the edge like that. "I'm just trying to see the bottom" I know, but lean into the wall please. Mom wants us back this afternoon, and would prefer you alive.

We we get into the canyon. The once flowing stream has frozen for the winter. "We can play hockey with the hiking poles!" We knock around some broken sandstone. Let's keep moving, the best part is just ahead. We find a half frozen pool and spend 15 minutes tossing rocks at it and watching the ice break. Look up on that cliff, do you see that tree? It's growing upside down. Do you see that tree, it's bending up to try and catch any light it can. Finally we get to the best part. The arch. It's a small one, only about 10 feet high and maybe 10 feet wide. She looks all around it, fascinated that it's standing there all alone.

It's time to head back. I told mom we'd be back in time of dinner. "Can't we go higher up? Can we go to the very very top?" No, not today. We don't have enough time. Don't worry though, I don't have to be on call anymore at work. I don't have to work Saturdays any more either. We can come back soon, and we'll go all the way to the top of Observation Point. You can see the whole park from there. You can even see St. George.

"what about that mountain over there dad? Can we go to the top of that one?" That one is Angels Landing. Were you scared when we had to hold onto the chains at all? Angels Landing has lots of chains to help you get to the top. "Dad, I'm not scared. I'm not a little kid anymore."

No, you're not a little kid anymore. We can do that one too. We can do them all. "We can be hiking buddies!" Yes, we can be hiking buddies. You did great. We got to the top in half the time I thought it would take us. You didn't complain or whine. You kept moving forward the whole time. You carried your own food and water. You really are something special.

I just won't talk to you about boys ever again.

The nice thing is you quit seeing them as kids---I am guessing it will happen as they close the lid on my coffin.

Good story, thank you.

That was enjoyable.

Thanks for sharing your special day...hope you always remain "Hiking Buddies""!

"We can be hiking buddies!" Yes, we can be hiking buddies.

Classic! Thanks for sharing.

Wish I had some places like that around here...or better yet wish I was there. 

Just one question...how do I explain my 9 year old SON crying????

Great story....what a special day for you and your daughter!

A few pictures of our hike. (I've noticed I'm not the photographer in our family. I rarely get the camera out. It drives my wife nuts when we get back from stuff like this and I only have three pictures)

Some friends showing us the way

My young adventurer! (this is what 80% of the trail was like)

That is cool.  As a fellow father of a 7 year old girl, I am also enjoying the "can do" attitude from my little girl.

I do have to disagree about Elko though.  Lamoille Canyon going into the Ruby Mountains is spectacular.

Keep writing Birdwell.  I can echo many of your sentiments.