Let me set the scene.
My bud and Pokin are in Cedar City, Utah, doing their daily hike training for Everest Base Camp. They pick a trail. The Thunderbird Canyons Trail System.
A trail. Named after thunderbirds. My species.
And they went without me.
Apparently when they saw the sign, they both looked at each other with that “oh no” face. Because they knew. They KNEW they messed up.
So the next morning, Pokin — who is clearly the smarter half of this operation — told Nicholas to take me back out there. Not a suggestion. A directive. “You need to take Sumi to that trail.”
And so at the crack of dawn, before the sun could even properly commit to the day, Nicholas strapped me up and we speed-ran the entire thing. Just the two of us. On a mission.
The trail winds through Red Hollow — all red sandstone, twisted junipers, and that dry Utah air that makes everything look like a movie set. Not too shabby at all.
But we weren’t here for the scenery. We were here for a specific destination Nicholas found the day before. Something he said I would lose my mind over.
Thor’s Lookout. On a Thunderbird trail. We were basically speed-walking a pilgrimage at this point.
And then we got there.
Someone — and I need to find this person so I can shake their hand — built a THRONE out of stacked red sandstone slabs and dead juniper branches. A full seat with a backrest. Carved “THOR” into it with a lightning bolt. Right there on the trail, overlooking the canyon.
A stone throne. On a thunderbird trail. Named after the god of thunder.
This was made for me.
I’m not saying I’m Thor. I’m saying I’m a thunderbird spirit bear who found a throne with his name’s energy on it in the middle of the Utah desert, and if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.
We speed-ran the whole thing in about an hour, got back before the sun got serious, and I got to sit on a stone throne in the desert. Not a bad morning.
Pokin was right to send us back. She usually is. Don’t tell her I said that.