This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
Having fulfilled an ambition that began two decades earlier with a fifth-grade county history report, Crystal Fields removed her shoes and felt the slickrock on the bottoms of her feet.
In that earth, the Provo woman said, she felt strength.
It's been about two years since Fields learned that her cancer is terminal — that she might never witness firsthand the splendor of Delicate Arch.
"Chemo brain" has made it difficult to even read. That's been particularly distressing for somebody who said she once devoured more than 40 books in a single week.
But thanks to three concerned neighbors, some kindly passersby and a jury-rigged stretcher, Fields can say she not only visited Utah's most iconic landmark, she watched a full moon rise over it then walked — still barefoot — most of the return leg.
The endeavor resulted from a conversation months earlier with neighbor Kara Cottle. Fields told Cottle about her affinity for the arch, born from a letter she had written to Moab tourism officials as a meticulous elementary schooler, but said she had crossed it off her bucket list due to her worsening health.
So Cottle set about finding a solution. A wheelchair wouldn't cut it, nor was Cottle able to borrow a medical stretcher. She turned to the Internet, where a YouTube video taught her to fashion a litter from PVC pipe and an old blanket.
And that worked. Sort of.
Last Friday, a team of Cottle and fellow neighbors Monique Rowe and Chrissy Richards found it challenging to keep Fields on board and the litter intact as they ascended the slickrock trail.
Said Fields: "When they're walking level, they're uneven. When they're walking uneven, it's really uneven. ... Part of me is like, 'I'm going to fall off. They're going to drop me.' But the other part of me had faith in my friends, and that they would hold me up, and that if they had to let go, they would let me know."
The group stalled after about three minutes on the slickrock, but to the rescue came a group of Italians, who offered to carry Fields for a stretch.
After Fields thanked them and walked a bit on her own, two men from out of state took their turn.
Later, Orem's Elan Maynez was searching for stragglers in his group when he asked if he could pitch in.
Maynez said he didn't know Fields had terminal cancer until he saw the effort featured on local television news the next day.
Their 1.5-mile journey lasted two-and-a-half hours. Fields walked the final stretch, re-purposing the pipes as walking sticks. They arrived just in time for the 8:45 p.m. moonrise and stayed for about an hour and a half.
Both Mars and Jupiter were visible, Fields said, and Cottle, who studied forensic anthropology, shared fascinating details about the area's geology.
"I'm really glad it was that combination of us," Fields said. "We brought together an amazing mood and feel to the experience. It was more than just a hike."
Cottle said Fields had worried her friends might miss the sunset and the moonrise on her account, but that "we had the exact opposite reaction."
"Her being able to see it, seeing it through her eyes, made it by far the most memorable time that we've ever seen this Utah icon."
Now Fields yearns for more adventure. She married last summer, and if finances permit, she and her husband hope to visit the East Coast.
There lies an even longer-held goal, she said: Since kindergarten, she's dreamed of getting a library card at Washington's Library of Congress.
Twitter: @matthew_piper