Out of the Mouth of Babes

Thomas Forsyth.

There are a lot of fascinating stories of the pioneers who settled Utah, early converts of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Among these are many conversion stories, some of them very unique.

The following was written from the pen of Thomas Forsyth recounting his own conversion around the year 1844. He was born in Scotland in 1813 and came to the Americas as a young boy with his family where they settled in Canada. He married Isabella Donald in 1839.

While living near Lake Huron he received a letter from his Uncle James in Scotland. His uncle asked him if he knew anything about the Latter Day Saints. “You will know them. Joseph Smith is the head one of them.”

Thomas Forsyth recounts the rest of the story in his autobiography:

“I had never heard of the Latter Day Saints till he asked me that question in his letter. In order to answer his letter I began to inquire who these Latter Day Saints were and where they were. I could find out but very little about them. But all I found out I wrote to him. But the next year there was a Mormon Elder came to my Mother-in-law's place, about seven miles from my place, and gave out notice he would hold a meeting there. I was at that time very curious to find out whether there was a God or not and if there was any way to worship him, for all I had heard in that line was a mass confusion to me. So when I heard the Mormon Elder was going to preach the next day [Sunday], I said I would go and hear him.

“My wife's youngest brother was at my home that night and was going home the next morning so I made up my mind to go with him and as soon as breakfast was over I went to fix to go. My wife was in the act of putting a necktie on me. Her brother stood close by my eldest and only son [at that time he was 20 months old] who was sitting in his little chair with a piece of pasteboard in his hand. We were not talking about the Mormons, nor about what they preached for we did not know anything about them; yet he held the pasteboard in his hand and moving his head as if he was following a line of reading, he repeated these words, “The Mormons preach Jesus' Gospel.” He repeated these words some three or four times as plain as I or anyone else could say them. When we heard him we were struck with astonishment for we knew he had never heard these words by anyone. When he noticed us looking at him, he laughed and threw the pasteboard away.

“We went to the meeting and heard the Elder preach, and I knew then and there that he preached the truth and I commenced to investigate, and very soon I was convinced that there was a God and that I had found what I had been looking for and praying for, for I had truly been praying for about two years, and no one knows the joy that filled my bosom only these that have experienced the same feeling that the finding of the Gospel brings to them.” 

Thomas Forsyth remained faithful to that gospel message for the rest of his life. ♠

[Source: "Autobiography of Thomas Forsyth" at familysearch.org.] 

Grave of Thomas Forsyth in Toquerville, Utah. He died in 1898.

Koreatown of Los Angeles

As soon as we turned off the I-10 Freeway and onto Western Avenue I could tell this wasn't a sleepy neighborhood. Two lanes of snarling traffic in each direction flooded the congested roadway. Most of the billboards and shop signs read in Korean. Everything appeared compact and chaotic. Although we knew we were in Koreatown, there was a side that believed we could have been in Busan.

After a long 7-hour drive, the first thing we wanted was to get a bite to eat. We walked to the Koreatown Plaza—one of many shopping malls in K-town—and found the food court on the bottom level.

A large room with tables hosted an almost exclusively Asian crowd. We walked around the perimeter with all the different vendors and found a shop selling Korean street food. It was the cheapest option there.

I ordered the dduk ggochi, a rice stick with barbeque sauce on a skewer, and two bulgogi tacos. It was enjoyable eating the food, but also to watch the people in the food court.

We took a walk around to some of the other shops around the mall. There was a stand selling red ginseng, which was of interest. Also we walked inside a bookstore where all the books were in Korean. Jordan recognized several of the books (written originally in English) by the pictures on the covers.

Dduk ggochi, a rice stick on a skewer. 

Many Asians eating in the food court. 

The first Korean immigrants to Southern California came in 1902 and 1903, settling in Riverside and Claremont, and some near downtown in an area called Bunker Hill. Many of them worked in the railroad and farm industries.

Growth was slow in the beginning with only 650 Koreans living in the Los Angeles area in the 1930's. The population boomed with the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. This allowed many Koreans to join family members who had already immigrated.

After Lee Hi Duk immigrated in 1968, he saw a need to provide Korean goods for the existing population. He established a store on Olympic Boulevard, which he called Olympic Market. This became a successful venture and provided groceries to the now 10,000 Koreans.

Drawing from that momentum he bought five blocks and brought in other Korean-owned businesses. His vision was of a “Korean Village.” This was the genesis of the modern-day Koreatown, and just a few blocks away from where we were currently visiting.

Korean book store. 

After a few hours spent at the beach that afternoon, we returned to our hotel in Koreatown and set out to find an authentic Korean barbeque. We found one near our hotel, which ended up being the highlight of the day.

We ordered the combo for three to four people for $98. We sat at a table with three burners and immediately the waitress brought us bowls of kimchi, rice, lettuce, and other condiments I couldn't name, and piling heaps of beef and pork onto the griddles. On the middle burner she placed the ingredients of a soup, which included noodles and tofu.

Sizzling aroma wafted through the air. We felt as if we had to hurry and eat before she brought us more. Every person had their own small bowl and chopsticks, and could experiment with any combination they pleased. It could be rice, beef, sauce and tofu; or lettuce, pork belly and kimchi.

By the time we left there was still food on the table and all of us were stuffed. It was a very good experience.

Plenty of food at a Korean barbeque. 

Korean barbeque. 

The following morning Jordan and I went for a walk through the neighborhood. The morning was cool and fresh, and the smell of blossoms filled the air. As we walked through the residential area nothing appeared Korean anymore. Architecture looked as if it were from the twenties or thirties. Street names like “Oxford” and “Normandie” were not at all Asian. The silhouetted skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles loomed in the distance.

With all this different architecture, I realized that this neighborhood was once occupied by another people. That brought up new questions: Who were these people? When did they live here? When did they leave? Why did they leave?

Old European architecture in Koreatown.  

Now and then a pocket of Korean shops would pop up. We passed the Seoul International Park where we saw elderly Asians using the park equipment to do their morning exercises.

Across the street stood the Korean Pavilion, the only true Asian architecture we encountered. The pavilion itself was small and the gate locked, but we could still see the ornate flare of its architecture.

It was interesting that we passed a house with a sign describing itself as a Zen Buddhist temple. It appeared nothing like a Buddhist temple.

An interesting fact about Koreatown is that it's very diverse with other nationalities, including those from several Latin American countries. As we walked we saw several vendors setting up street stands. One of them sold pupusas and we were tempted to buy. We also passed Pollo al la Brasa, a Peruvian restaurant.

Korean Pavilion near Seoul International Park. 

View of downtown skyscrapers from Koreatown. 

One of the buildings that stood out was The Wiltern, a greenish-blue 12-story building on the corner of Western and Wilshire (hence the name). The sight of it beckoned to an earlier time.

Technically known as The Pellissier Building, it was built in 1931and housed the Warner Brother Western Theater. It was later renamed The Wiltern Theater.

Over the years it fell into disrepair, but in the 1980's came the desire to restore it to its former glory. After four years of renovation the theater once again was able to host a wide variety of live performances.

The Wiltern.

Intersection on Wilshire Boulevard. 

There are several old churches in Koreatown. I don't know if they are currently active or have been re-purposed. One of the more impressive buildings is the Wilshire Boulevard Temple, a Jewish Synagogue. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to go inside, but did drive past.

For our final evening in Koreatown, I headed back out to the streets with Jordan and Kaitlyn. This would be our first time wandering in the dark. For most of our walk we felt safe because the streets were lit and empty. But we had one stretch where it was dark and fifty feet away from a homeless encampment. At that same time we heard someone from an apartment window yelling. We quickened our step.

Our destination was Jinsol Gukbap on 8th Street. The restaurant sat on a dark corner, but was well lit and friendly on the inside. The menu was very simple and consisted of dishes ranging from $17 a plate to $39.⸻I ordered the Bibimbap in Hot Stone Pot.

Before our orders came out the waiter brought seven small trays of condiments, three sauces, and a cup of rice. The trays consisted of kimchi, sliced peppers and onions with a spicy paste, pickled cabbage, sliced chives, a sweet and crispy vegetable in a sour sauce, cooked crab claws and a pickled pepper in red sauce. Of course, those represent my descriptions and not the reality of what they really were.

Then came the main course. It came in a piping hot dolsot and still sizzling. Arranged neatly in separate piles were carrots, shitake mushrooms, spinach and other vegetables I didn't recognize. In the middle sat a scoop of rice with an egg yolk on top. After waiting several minutes to let it finish cooking at our table, the waiter came over and squeezed gochujang sauce onto it, then mixed it all together.

Bibimbap.

A variety of condiments for our meal. 

It was a bit spicy. I ate it with a spoon, then used my chopsticks to grab a piece of kimchi or pickled pepper or whatever sounded good to chase it down.

It was past eleven by the time we finished and they were now putting up tables. I attempted to eat all I could of the condiments, but unfortunately couldn't fit them all in my tummy. When we left out the side door most of the employees were in the parking lot taking a smoke break. They were very friendly and waved goodbye.

Jordan and Kaitlyn giggling about something. 

As we walked back to the hotel on those dimly-lit streets I told Jordan that it reminded me of the streets of Phnom Penh. If the streets were just a bit narrower, I told him, the buildings looked similar and it had a similar smell.

We walked back to our hotel, past the homeless encampment and beneath street lamps. In an odd kind of way, it would be a moment that would create nostalgia. ♠

Sam Mountain, An Giang Provence, Vietnam

Sam Mountain in the distance.

After an interesting breakfast where our order was lost in translation, we flagged down a moto-taxi to head toward our destination for the day. At first, he too didn't know what we were trying to tell him. Then I heard him say several times, “Nui Sam?”

“YES!” I said, nodding in agreement. The two of us hopped on the back of his motorcycle and soon our hair was blowing in the warm breeze as we passed occasional buildings and rice paddy fields. The ride was only a couple miles and he charged us 100,000 dong.

Sam Mountain is considered part of Chau Doc, but it is detached from the main village. Apart from visiting many of the shrines, it was my goal to climb to the top, which was supposedly the highest mountain in the Mekong Delta.

Our driver dropped us off at the foot of Sam Mountain, next to the Tay An Pagoda. This was a bustling little area with motorbikes and bicycles buzzing all around, shops lining the street, and vendors along the sidewalk. Not intending just yet to hike up the hill, we set out to explore the shrines.

Naturally, Tay An Pagoda became our first stop. The ornate building was orange in color, complemented with a creamy white. It appeared a cross between Buddhist and Hindu. The entrance was guarded with statues of elephants, lions and Buddhist deity figurines. Carved into the face of the building I saw what appeared to chrysanthemums, and along the trimming of the roof were lotus blossoms. Atop the pagoda stood an ornate tower with an onion dome.

An official description says it was built in 1847 and has elements of Cham, Vietnamese, Chinese and Indian cultures. I thought it interesting that the white elephant had six tusks protruding from his mouth.

Tay An Pagoda.

Just down the road we found our second holy building. This was the Ba Chua Xu Temple. Contrasted with the pagoda, this structure was more square in shape, with a greenish blue-tiled roof that was layered and flared at the corners. It was built in 1820.

Inside was an open-air walkway with nooks on the sides filled with shrines. Lotus blossoms, sticks of incense and other offerings sat on tables, I'm assuming to be sold to devotees. I saw several ladies around a tray of suckling pig. I didn't know if that was meant to be an offering, or lunch.

The Ba Chua Xu Temple is also known as the Holy Mother of the Realm. Legend has it that in ancient times the Holy Mother helped the villagers fight back the Siam army. She also blessed them with good weather and a rich harvest. Now worshipers will come to touch her statue and ask for her blessing and protection.

Ba Chua Xu Temple.

Across the street we found another place of worship. This one was the tomb of Thoai Ngoc Hau. Don't ask me how to pronounce his name. And if it weren't for the internet, I wouldn't even know who he was.

Thoai Ngoc Hau joined the army in 1777 at the age of 16. He was a military commander in 1802 at the beginning of the Nguyen Dynasty where he was instrumental in conquering the north. He also established several villages and canals in the area.

His tomb was enclosed inside a building that looked like every other shrine in the area. Atop a box was a sculpture of his head. Admirers came to give praise to the departed man.

Shrine and tomb of Thoai Ngoc Hau.

Now it was time to find a way up the mountain. This was no normal mountain. Most of it was covered in thick growth, shrines, and shacks lived in by locals. Supposedly there was a “trail” that went to the top, but we didn't know if that trail was dirt or concrete. If there was a sign pointing toward the trail, we probably didn't understand it. We quickly learned this would be a game of trial and error.

We walked up a set of stone stairs past shrines and what appeared to be tiny tombs. The path twisted and turned and soon I had completely lost my bearings. 

The path was also a bit sketchy. Often we came startling close to someone's home and dogs would begin to bark. I worried we were entering someone's living space. Once we passed a pet monkey in a cage that looked very sickly.

Cluster of tombs as we hike up the hill. 

Roaming dogs.

At one point we could see the top of the hill, but our meager trail fizzled out. It was near here where I first caught a glimpse of the next ridge over and saw what appeared to be the face of a giant stone Buddha. The inadequate view left much to be desired and we hoped to catch a better view later.

From our dead-end we retraced our steps to the bottom of the hill and began anew along another path. Now on this new path the way felt better. The trail seemed wider and we didn't seem to enter any private spaces. There were several stands off to the side offering hammocks and refreshments. Nearly all were empty. This must not be a popular time for pilgrims. In fact, we were the only pilgrims we encountered the entire day.

Interesting roots of a tree on the way up.

I should add that the rain was off and on the entire time. We used umbrellas as needed. The pathway was constantly wet.

At one point near the top we passed an uncommon vendor. They spoke no English. We bought two bottles of Pepsi for 40,000 dong and poured them into ice-filled glasses. Then we lounged in hammocks while sipping our drinks and enjoying the view. It was one of the highlights of the day and worth every dong we paid!

Jordan in the rain. 

A well-appreciated Pepsi break.

We continued our way, passing other shrines. At last we reached the top, which ended up being the most beautiful shrine of the entire hike. The complex consisted of several buildings, each painted red with intricate designs. This Buddhist temple seemed to have more of a Japanese style to it. The grounds were finely manicured with lush gardens and quaint ponds.

I was, however, disappointed that there was no 360° panoramic view at the top. There were several views along the way that offered vistas in different directions, including some that pointed toward the mountains of Cambodia. These at the top pointed toward the town of Chau Doc and the Bassac River.

Beautiful temple at the top of Sam Mountain. 

A red bridge crosses a pond at this Buddhist temple. 

A bathroom with a breeze!

At this point we were uncertain with the weather. There were serious storm clouds in the distance. The previous night we had a massive monsoonal downpour and didn't want to get stuck in something like that. Taking that into consideration, we decided to take the gondola down.

The gondola cost 90,000 dong each and required no effort. Rain splatters on the glass blurred much of the view, but we could see well the red-tiled roofs of the temples, the settlement of Sam Mountain, and the rising mount. I also caught a confirming glance of the giant stone Buddha head carved in rock on the far side of the mountain.

When we made it to the bottom I was determined to continue to the back side of the mountain. My first goal was to find the large stone Buddha, which we did within fifteen minutes of walking. It appeared to be under construction and I couldn't tell if it was a new sculpture, or if they were repairing the old.

This was our view of this stone Buddha on the gondola ride.

Once on the street, this is what it looked like. 

Along the way we passed a cemetery. I didn't know who was buried here, or whether they were important people. I also didn't know if the entombed were cremated, or embalmed and buried whole as they are in the West.

Each grave consisted of an above-ground tomb with a memorial on the front. In front of each memorial was a little shelf where family could place offerings. We used our phone to translate one of them and got the following: From the mother's grave, BUI THI CUC, Sunflower: 49 years old, Died 25-8 lunar month, Year of the Dog 1970.

Little cemetery on Sam Mountain.

Walking just down the street, we arrived at the Chua Phuoc Dien Pagoda, a beautiful temple set back within the trees of the hillside. A long set of stairs led to the temple complex, including a lotus pond and shrine to the Maitreya Buddha. Near the pond was a patio area with statues of the Four Heavenly Kings, who are Buddhist gods watching over the four cardinal directions.

Higher into the complex was the main hall where a traditional statue of Buddha sat atop a pedestal. Beyond this room is where things got interesting. An archway on the back wall led inside a dark tunnel with two stone snakes guarding the entrance. These serpents had the appearance of fire coming from their eyes and mouth. Further inside the tunnel came the sound of tumbling water and the sight of a fountain coming down the walls. Part of the stone floor was puddled with water. At the end of the short, but dark puddle was a shrine to three Buddhist figurines. The name of this place was The Cavern of Green and White Snakes.

Chua Phuoc Dien Pagoda, a very beautiful temple complex.

A second archway from the main hall led to a more extensive network of tunnels. Walking through here we entered a dark corridor and a stone staircase that led deeper into the cave. Water dripped from the top of the tunnel and we had to be careful not to slip on the rock. (We had to remove our shoes and socks at the entrance of the temple, so this entire time we walked in bare feet.)

This obscure tunnel snaked inside the cavern and at one time made a fork. We thought for a moment we might become lost inside the maze. As we walked we passed small shrines housed within a small cavity. The tunnel then opened up into a larger cavern with several shrines. This section was lit up with lights. At last the dank tunnel system came to an end and we were again outside in the fresh air, but in a new, unfamiliar section of the temple complex.

Buddha inside Phuoc Dien Pagoda.  The entrance to the cave is the archway on the right.

There is a story associated with the Phuoc Dien Pagoda. Around the 1840's the pagoda was just a bamboo and leaf hermitage. It was built by a lady named Le Thi Tho, whose dharma name was Dieu Thien. (A dharma name is given by a Buddhist teacher to a student to symbolize his or her commitment to the Buddhist path.) She built it as a place to practice.

In 1836 she became a nun, and in 1839 she received the Bhikkhuni precepts, which are a set of rules, or code of conduct for Buddhist nuns. In 1845 she decided to live in seclusion, so she chose Sam Mountain as her place of practice.

Next to her hermitage was a deep mountain cave where there lived two pythons. These snakes were known to be fierce, but when Dieu Thien moved in, they did not harm her. Instead they came next to her, lied still, and listened to her recite sutras.

After her death the local people donated money and rebuilt the pagoda. Over the many years that followed there were several renovations and improvements until the temple complex became what it is today.

We finished our visit and found several more beautiful gardens, statues, and shrines. Being that we were on a hill, there were amazing views across rice paddy fields and mountains, both of Vietnam and Cambodia. Jordan and I both agreed that this temple was probably the most fascinating thing we had seen up to that point on our trip.

More beautiful gardens and ponds at the temple complex.

Looking toward Cambodia and flooded ground from monsoon rains.

By this time we were starving. Next to the cemetery was a nice little outdoor eating place with aluminum tables and plastic chairs. Only one other family was eating there.

I told Jordan we were going to order the dish advertised. A picture with a name was posted on the wall: Vit Nau Chao. Once again, the lady trying to help us knew no English. We figured things out and sat at a table.

Twenty minutes later she brought a large ceramic pot of Vit Nau Chao on a small propane stove. This would be a hot pot. She also served a large plate of angel hair noodles and another of greens. She gave us chili sauce and small bowls. We figured things out and finished nearly everything except most of the greens.

Soon we were stopped by a motorcyclist, asking if we wanted a ride. After five minutes of charades and pointing to places on Google Maps, the two of us hopped on the back of his bike and sped back to Chau Doc. ♠

Vit Nou Chou, served via hot pot.

Squaw Peak (#30)

Yes, I know that a few years ago the name was changed to Kyhv Peak, but I tend to be stubborn and don't like it when names are changed on account of political correctness. And there's a story behind this name. But I digress . . .

Rock Canyon is a sight to behold! Rugged cliffs that thrust upward and sidewards provide a playground for rock climbers and a home to bighorn sheep. I was here in October when Mother Nature couldn't decide whether it was winter or fall. Autumn leaves were just past their prime, but still vibrant enough to add another dimension of the beauty to the canyon.

Interesting rock formations in Rock Canyon.

The trail is wide in Rock Canyon.

For the first hour I just took in the experience. I was happy to be here and happy there was no rain. A handful of walkers were on the trail, which is what I would expect on a Tuesday afternoon.

The path was wide enough for a narrow vehicle. I read that William M. Wall received a grant in 1855 to build a road up the canyon. I have no idea how far it went. Once completed he charged a toll of 50 cents for every load of wood that was hauled on the road.

I don't know how long the road was used for motorized traffic, but I did see many signs of human interaction. A pipeline had been placed underground to capture water from the creek. (The creek bed was dry. In some places I could press my ear and hear the water rushing through the pipes.) I also saw remnants of a system that must have predated the pipeline. It was a water channel made of concrete, but now sat dilapidated. I even saw a stone drinking fountain that was still in use.

Dilapidated channel. 

More interesting geology.

One of the earliest historical references to Rock Canyon comes in relation to the Battle at Fort Utah in 1850. To sum up the contention in the most simple of terms, a conflict between the Mormons and Utes was coming to a head. The Mormons were encroaching upon land used by the Utes and they, in turn, were stealing cattle from the Mormons. The previous year there had already been a conflict between the two, a clash that became known as the Battle Creek Massacre.

Fort Utah was built near the Provo River and near a Timpanogos (Ute) village. The settlers used nets to catch fish out of Utah Lake and their cattle used pastures that were once used by wild game, thus diminishing the Ute's ability to procure food. Also, measles broke out among both the natives and Mormons, but the natives, who did not have immunity, were affected much more. When winter came they were in desperate need of food and consequently stole 50 to 60 head of cattle from the Mormons.

In February of 1850 a group of militiamen were dispatched from Salt Lake to confront the Indians. A conflict ensued and ten Utes were killed along with one Mormon. The Utes split into two groups, one fleeing toward Spanish Fork and the other into Rock Canyon.

The Utes that fled into Rock Canyon were led by Big Elk, who was already suffering from the measles. The army split into two groups, one of them following the Timpanogos into Rock Canyon. There they found more bodies, including that of Big Elk, who had died of his wounds. With the help of Black Hawk, they tracked the Timpanogos and eventually killed more and took many as prisoners.

One of the bodies they found was that of Big Elk's wife. Trying to escape, she climbed up a cliff, then slipped and fell to her death. In honor of her, the summit above Rock Canyon was given the name “Squaw Peak.”

Looking at Provo Peak from Buffalo Meadow.

Back to my hike, the trail ascended steadily, climbing over 1,000 feet in 1.7 miles. From here the trail continued, but I diverted onto another trail in the First Left Fork of Rock Canyon. This is where the path really started to climb, needing only a mile to gain 1,000 feet.

This trail, instead of being gravelly and wide, now turned into a foot-wide path of dirt. As I walked through more scrub oak and aspen, the fall colors really presented themselves. Being past their prime, they were now not as vibrant, but still very pretty. Most had fallen from their limbs and sat on the ground or atop pine tree needles. In the distance, through the trees, I could see the snow-capped slopes of Provo Peak.

Although beautiful, I couldn't see much past the trees during this section. It wasn't until I arrived at the first meadow that some of the more majestic scenery began to unfold. Without the hindrance of trees I could now see Buffalo Peak, Cascade Mountain and Mount Timpanogos. Three times within a minute I heard the blast of a hunting rifle, probably shooting at an elk.

I hoped to see more wildlife than I did, which was none. In this backcountry there are deer, elk and bighorn sheep.

Cascade Mountain (in back) and Buffalo Peak (at left). 

Mount Timponogos in distance. 

I arrived at Squaw Peak in 2 hours 9 minutes. The view from the top was incredible. Not only could I see all the aforementioned places, but also Utah Lake and all of Utah Valley, with Provo being the closest city. The Provo Temple construction site, Lavell Edwards Stadium and the Mission Training Center were all relatively within close view.

On the south side, however, sat a precipice of dizzying heights. The calculated elevation drop from Squaw Peak to the point on the trail directly below was 2,188 feet!

I would have loved to dilly-dally all day long, but the reality was that storm clouds would be moving in and I wanted to be down by dark.

From Squaw Peak, looking over Provo and Utah Lake. 

Looking across Rock Canyon toward Y Mountain and Provo Peak.

Looking toward south end of Utah Valley. Mount Nebo and Loafer Mountain in distance. 

The way down was equally beautiful, but went much quicker. I took a couple detours that added to my mileage. By the time I got down to the main part of Rock Canyon the foot traffic had increased. I passed several trail runners, evening walkers, and rock climbers.

I talked to one man who was walking his dog. He had lived here for 26 years and came walking on the trail nearly every day. He told me that there are several caves in the area, although some of them have been blocked off because people have died inside. He also assured me that no one except the young people call it Kyhv Peak. To everyone else it still is, and will forever be, Squaw Peak. ♠

Rock climbing in Rock Canyon.

Squaw Peak

Distance from car: 3.8 miles

Elevation gain to peak: 2,721 feet

Final Elevation: 7,838 feet

Total round-trip distance (including detours): 8.1 miles

Total elevation gain: 3,827 feet

Squaw Peak, aka Kyhv Peak.

A perfect way to end the hike. . .  at the BYU Creamery!