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
