One week ago today Cory and I stepped into the cold running water of the Virgin River in Zion National Park. We were compelled to make it out to Zion one final time this year to hike the Narrows, the slot canyon at the northern end of the shuttle route in the park. The Narrows is no ordinary trail. This hike requires water slogging - A LOT of it - and it can be quite chilly in a space that can easily be a wind tunnel and gets little sun.
Our goal was to hike five miles upriver to the campsites that hikers stay at when they through-hike the river from the top. For the first two miles we were joined by hordes of day hikers in everything imaginable - bikinis, barefeet, and even a big guy wading in his skivvies. Like I said, this is no normal guy's hike and it was frightening to see the number of people on the river unprepared. While you can rent special boots and pants for the Narrows hike, we outfitted ourselves and did pretty well. I wore: a sweat-wicking sports bra, a sweat-wicking tank top, Under Armour long sleeve shirt and tights, UV tank top, fleece sweatshirt with hood, light-dry cargo pants, wool hiking socks and Keens. We also brought along hats, gloves, extra clothing to keep our cores warm and extra socks.
At two-and-a-half miles, we came to a point where a second canyon joined the Narrows. After that, the hikers became scarce and the scenery became even more exquisite. Unfortunately, it is so dark in the canyon that it's difficult to take pictures, but the walls were covered in thick moss and ferns and waterfalls that sounded like timpani drums ran out of cracks in the canyon walls. We even found one section of the wall covered in insect exo-skeletons.
Around three miles into the hike we came upon Wall Street, an amazing portion of the hike where the canyon narrows significantly and sheer canyon walls rise straight up on both sides. It's the part of the hike where I really felt at the mercy of nature. If anything had happened at this point - flash flood, rock slide, etc. - we would have had nowhere to go. There were no sandbanks on either side of the river, and we had to carefully navigate our way up the rushing water through slippery rocks. At one point, the water was nearly up to my waist.
Four miles in we hit a portion of the river filled with huge boulders we had to scramble over and navigate around. At this point, we were only sharing the river with a few interspersed hikers and a significant number of trout. Not knowing what time it was, but knowing we'd been on the river for quite some time, we stopped at four-and-a-half miles to eat our sandwiches before turning around and heading back. Only two other groups of people passed us as far as we could tell.
Now, I would have thought getting downriver would be easier than the trek up it, but it wasn't at all. In fact, I moved so slowly and had to concentrate so hard on getting my footing that, once we were back in a place with other people, hikers were passing us right and left. Going back down the river I fell twice, but luckily just my arms were wet from catching myself and not my actual core.
Triumphant, we made it back to camp in one piece, though a bit stiffer than when we'd left. Who knew we had all these unknown muscles? We can check the Narrows off of our list of things to do in this lifetime - though now we're talking about taking the through-hike from the top of the river. Another day...
See more of our pictures from the Narrows here.
Wet and dirty,
JoAnna
Showing posts with label Zion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zion. Show all posts
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Zion: Where Angels Come to Play
Not all destinations are created equal.
I say this because not only did we visit an unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination over Labor Day, but we chose to live in a place that offers us such wonderful access to some of our country’s most amazing national parks. I knew we made the right decision when we chose to move to Las Vegas last year.
But to get back to the unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination of Zion National Park,located in southern Utah… Declared a national park nearly 100 years ago, much of this park is inaccessible to people, and in the main canyon area of the park, a shuttle bus service runs a circuit, dropping people off at trailheads and viewpoints. It’s quiet, clean and unobtrusive.
Zion is a family-friendly park that can be enjoyed from viewpoints and short hiking trails, but like any camping trip, our journey to Zion was filled with strenuous hiking, cliff-hugging adventures and promises to return. We were lucky enough to have my dad join us on the trip, which is always a treat. Together, the three of us explored just about every nook and cranny up and down the main shuttle route.
At Weeping Rock, I was reminded of the unique ecosystems that exist within this park. Although technically in the desert, the Virgin River runs through Zion and rainfall that seeps through the sandstone drips off of the limestone below it creating hanging gardens and moss that covers rocks resting next to cacti.
Many of the named monoliths in the park are named after religious objects and people. The Great White Throne, the Altar of Sacrifice, Angel’s Landing (more on this in a minute) and the Three Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) are overwhelming and stunning with their sheer drop offs and seemingly carved-out arches.
On Saturday we took a hike to Hidden Canyon, a secluded narrow ravine set high up in the hills. We were thrilled by the fact that parts of the trail required we hold onto a chain so as not to fall off the edge, and the stone staircases carved into the side of the hill felt ancient and secretive. Hidden Canyon itself was narrow and required some rock scrambling as we made our way back to a free-standing arch. It’s always so gratifying to me when the really rewarding features take some work to see. The big treat on this hike was the spotted owl that Cory saw resting in a tree. White, fluffy and completely unexpected, the owl perched quietly as we stared at it in amazement.
We received a little bit of rain Saturday night and Sunday morning, but once the sun started burning through the clouds, we headed for Angel’s Landing, a peak we’d been talking about since learning about it on Saturday. Angel’s Landing juts into the middle of the park and is accessible by a two-and-a-half mile trail that climbs 1,488 feet. It was muggy when we started up the trail, which quickly left the road and led back toward the “hill” (as Cory liked to call it) where the trail grew increasingly steeper. A lazy set of switchbacks turned back behind Angel’s Landing in a deceivingly flat, shady trail. Once we reached the end of the easy part, the trail turned 180-degrees as we headed up the 21 steep switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles. From there we ended up at Scout’s Point, where we were met with a sign warning us of hazardous conditions ahead. We had reached the first real challenge of the day. The trail led around a chunk of the mountain that again had a chain to help from falling, but this time the chain meant business. There were parts of the trail that required we rely heavily on the chain in order to avoid falling off the cliff face. I found it challenging; being short, I struggled occasionally to reach the next step up and I had to use the chain to drag myself up the rock. As we turned the final curve, I couldn’t believe what I saw in front of me. Angel’s Landing lay half a mile in front of me, straight up a narrow, rocky ridge not more than three feet wide in places.
“Holy balls,” I distinctly remember myself saying.
“Oh shit,” Cory said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the guy behind Cory said under his breath.
A man standing next to me laughed. “I love hearing people coming around the bend,” he said as we both looked at the treacherous path that lay before us. He told me that people coming back said the climb was worth it, but that lots of people got to the point we were at and made the decision not to continue. “It’s okay to stop here,” he said. “I am.”
But I wasn’t quitting. I don’t think I ever really thought about not finishing the climb to the top of Angel’s Landing. It just took me by surprise. What an intimidating endeavor, but one I will remember for a lifetime and feel proud of conquering.
We set off on the climb, pausing occasionally to rest, drink water and, yes, watch a California condor sunning itself on the side of the cliff face. We hauled ourselves up sand-slippery boulders and wedged ourselves into cracks as we let people pass us going in the other direction. We navigated around rocky corners and adjusted our footing to balance as we peered over the edge of the cliff and pointed out other hiking paths we’d climbed and bus stops we recognized. We became talented in a new sport I think should be in the gymnastics competition of the Olympics: uneven balance beam. Like a broken and dirty matchstick resting between the Empire State Building and the Eiffel Tower, the ridge we traversed became our momentary Everest.
Half a mile later we reached the peak of Angel’s Landing, a stunning viewpoint from which we seemed to be able to see the entire park (though this isn’t really true). Without any cars running down the spine of Zion, the view was really marvelous. Now that we were at the top of one of those monoliths, we could see the ribbon of the Virgin River, the winding sandstone road with the occasionally propane-powered bus meandering down it, the lonely lodge and the steep path we had climbed.
At the “lunchroom” on top of Angel’s Landing, people joked about how a waitress on roller skates would be by any minute to take our beer orders. As we munched on fruit and chips, Dad, Cory and I pondered the little things that surrounded us. When does a rock become a boulder, a boulder become a hill and a hill become a mountain? How did the chipmunks get to the top of Angel’s Landing? We marveled at the Korean hikers who flew by us going up and coming down, and we commented on the shoes and clothing people were able to climb in.
It was amazing being on the top of the world. Climbing Angel’s Landing is, I think, the closest thing I’ve ever done to climbing a mountain, and I’m really excited the three of us did it.
As we sat by the campfire on Sunday night, we made plans to come back and hike The Narrows—an upriver hike that requires some swimming. Perhaps we’ll add that on to the end of our rim-to-rim Grand Canyon adventure next summer. The campfire crackled, the smoke blew through the air, the stars shined, people laughed and talked quietly in sites around ours, and we basked in the glory of another fantastic camping trip in a place that is clearly superior to so many others.
Check out our other Zion pictures here.
Camelpacks and hiking boots,
JoAnna
I say this because not only did we visit an unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination over Labor Day, but we chose to live in a place that offers us such wonderful access to some of our country’s most amazing national parks. I knew we made the right decision when we chose to move to Las Vegas last year.
But to get back to the unbelievably beautiful and mesmerizing destination of Zion National Park,located in southern Utah… Declared a national park nearly 100 years ago, much of this park is inaccessible to people, and in the main canyon area of the park, a shuttle bus service runs a circuit, dropping people off at trailheads and viewpoints. It’s quiet, clean and unobtrusive.
Zion is a family-friendly park that can be enjoyed from viewpoints and short hiking trails, but like any camping trip, our journey to Zion was filled with strenuous hiking, cliff-hugging adventures and promises to return. We were lucky enough to have my dad join us on the trip, which is always a treat. Together, the three of us explored just about every nook and cranny up and down the main shuttle route.
At Weeping Rock, I was reminded of the unique ecosystems that exist within this park. Although technically in the desert, the Virgin River runs through Zion and rainfall that seeps through the sandstone drips off of the limestone below it creating hanging gardens and moss that covers rocks resting next to cacti.
Many of the named monoliths in the park are named after religious objects and people. The Great White Throne, the Altar of Sacrifice, Angel’s Landing (more on this in a minute) and the Three Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) are overwhelming and stunning with their sheer drop offs and seemingly carved-out arches.
On Saturday we took a hike to Hidden Canyon, a secluded narrow ravine set high up in the hills. We were thrilled by the fact that parts of the trail required we hold onto a chain so as not to fall off the edge, and the stone staircases carved into the side of the hill felt ancient and secretive. Hidden Canyon itself was narrow and required some rock scrambling as we made our way back to a free-standing arch. It’s always so gratifying to me when the really rewarding features take some work to see. The big treat on this hike was the spotted owl that Cory saw resting in a tree. White, fluffy and completely unexpected, the owl perched quietly as we stared at it in amazement.
We received a little bit of rain Saturday night and Sunday morning, but once the sun started burning through the clouds, we headed for Angel’s Landing, a peak we’d been talking about since learning about it on Saturday. Angel’s Landing juts into the middle of the park and is accessible by a two-and-a-half mile trail that climbs 1,488 feet. It was muggy when we started up the trail, which quickly left the road and led back toward the “hill” (as Cory liked to call it) where the trail grew increasingly steeper. A lazy set of switchbacks turned back behind Angel’s Landing in a deceivingly flat, shady trail. Once we reached the end of the easy part, the trail turned 180-degrees as we headed up the 21 steep switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles. From there we ended up at Scout’s Point, where we were met with a sign warning us of hazardous conditions ahead. We had reached the first real challenge of the day. The trail led around a chunk of the mountain that again had a chain to help from falling, but this time the chain meant business. There were parts of the trail that required we rely heavily on the chain in order to avoid falling off the cliff face. I found it challenging; being short, I struggled occasionally to reach the next step up and I had to use the chain to drag myself up the rock. As we turned the final curve, I couldn’t believe what I saw in front of me. Angel’s Landing lay half a mile in front of me, straight up a narrow, rocky ridge not more than three feet wide in places.
“Holy balls,” I distinctly remember myself saying.
“Oh shit,” Cory said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the guy behind Cory said under his breath.
A man standing next to me laughed. “I love hearing people coming around the bend,” he said as we both looked at the treacherous path that lay before us. He told me that people coming back said the climb was worth it, but that lots of people got to the point we were at and made the decision not to continue. “It’s okay to stop here,” he said. “I am.”
But I wasn’t quitting. I don’t think I ever really thought about not finishing the climb to the top of Angel’s Landing. It just took me by surprise. What an intimidating endeavor, but one I will remember for a lifetime and feel proud of conquering.
We set off on the climb, pausing occasionally to rest, drink water and, yes, watch a California condor sunning itself on the side of the cliff face. We hauled ourselves up sand-slippery boulders and wedged ourselves into cracks as we let people pass us going in the other direction. We navigated around rocky corners and adjusted our footing to balance as we peered over the edge of the cliff and pointed out other hiking paths we’d climbed and bus stops we recognized. We became talented in a new sport I think should be in the gymnastics competition of the Olympics: uneven balance beam. Like a broken and dirty matchstick resting between the Empire State Building and the Eiffel Tower, the ridge we traversed became our momentary Everest.
Half a mile later we reached the peak of Angel’s Landing, a stunning viewpoint from which we seemed to be able to see the entire park (though this isn’t really true). Without any cars running down the spine of Zion, the view was really marvelous. Now that we were at the top of one of those monoliths, we could see the ribbon of the Virgin River, the winding sandstone road with the occasionally propane-powered bus meandering down it, the lonely lodge and the steep path we had climbed.
At the “lunchroom” on top of Angel’s Landing, people joked about how a waitress on roller skates would be by any minute to take our beer orders. As we munched on fruit and chips, Dad, Cory and I pondered the little things that surrounded us. When does a rock become a boulder, a boulder become a hill and a hill become a mountain? How did the chipmunks get to the top of Angel’s Landing? We marveled at the Korean hikers who flew by us going up and coming down, and we commented on the shoes and clothing people were able to climb in.
It was amazing being on the top of the world. Climbing Angel’s Landing is, I think, the closest thing I’ve ever done to climbing a mountain, and I’m really excited the three of us did it.
As we sat by the campfire on Sunday night, we made plans to come back and hike The Narrows—an upriver hike that requires some swimming. Perhaps we’ll add that on to the end of our rim-to-rim Grand Canyon adventure next summer. The campfire crackled, the smoke blew through the air, the stars shined, people laughed and talked quietly in sites around ours, and we basked in the glory of another fantastic camping trip in a place that is clearly superior to so many others.
Check out our other Zion pictures here.
Camelpacks and hiking boots,
JoAnna
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