Snow, Angels Landing in Zion National Park

We started the day with a healthy breakfast of all-you-can-eat pancakes at a diner across the street from the inn. The weather was rather miserable, cold, gray and rainy. After breakfast, we left Tropic, driving back on Route 12. Our destination was the last park on our trip—Zion National Park. The rain changed to snow, and winter wonderland has arrived. The snow was falling heavy, staying on the ground, on cars, and even sticking to the road.



We decided to make one more stop at the Bryce Canyon National Park for a chance to see hoodoos covered in snow. We drove out to the now familiar Sunset Point and rushed up to the rim. The snow was lying in the grass, stuck to the needles of the pine trees, but to our huge disappointment the hoodoos stood bare. In a few minutes the sun was shining brightly through the crispy air, and we continued on our planned route.

Zion National Park is different from all other parks we have visited in that it requires visitors to use the park shuttle system to get around the park. The main area of the park is the bottom of the canyon formed by the Virgin River. With vertical walls surrounding the area is limited. As the number of park visitors grew, the canyon has become the perpetual traffic jam and a parking nightmare. The great number of vehicles also seriously affected the air quality. Today everyone except for those staying at the Lodge is required to park by the Visitor’s Center and take the shuttle from there. The nearby town of Springdale also has a free shuttle bussing people between any point on the town’s main street to the Visitor’s Center.

Nick and I arrived at Zion after a nice journey of only a couple of hours, and headed straight for the Visitors Center. We drove into the park from the East Entrance. From here, we had to travel 13 miles further to reach the Visitor's Center. The rock formations surrounding us were pale gray and had amazingly regular beautiful patterns as if etched into them.

The road led us into a tunnel, which was so narrow that it has to be closed to allow taller vehicles such as RVs or tour buses to pass, because they have to travel in the middle of the road to get enough clearance. The tunnel felt dark, cold, narrow and very claustrophobic. Occasional windows on the side blinded us with sunlight and glimpses of magnificent views, but there is no stopping here. According to Nick, the windows were created first and provided the access to build the tunnel inside the rock. Beyond the tunnel, the road descended steeply into the canyon.

We had business to take care of at the Visitor's Center since all four of us were going on a two-day backcountry hike on Thursday. We got our permit, poop bags, registered our vehicles, and once Ryan and Talia arrived, watched a video on what to do and not to do.

We planned to hike the Narrows. This is a 16 mile, two-day hike through the slot canyon of the Virgin River. The hike starts by the headwaters of the North Fork of the Virgin River outside the park, and follows the river through the canyon. Only 50 people a day are allowed to do the hike, permits are required, and the park assigns each group a specific camping spot. Camping spots are spread out along the river, and imply a clearing a little higher then the river to increase chances of hiker survival in case of flash flooding.

Each of us was worried about this backcountry adventure in his or her own way. Walking in the river, being cold, carrying too much weight or pooping into a bag—these were some of the concerns. Leaving the Visitors’ Center we made a trip to Springdale to check on some of the equipment we were to rent the next morning. Now we were ready to start enjoying Zion.

We made our way into the park and checked into the Lodge. The location was idyllic. “Happily situated” at the bottom of one side of the canyon, the lodge provided great views of the red walls of the other side of the canyon. A large lawn in the front supplied a perfect place for the visitors to relax while enjoying the beautiful surroundings. The hotel room itself did not impress me nearly as much. Dark, unattractive and not all that clean the room could definitely be improved, especially for the price.

With a few hours of daylight still left, we headed out to do one of the most popular hikes in Zion—the Angels Landing. The trail began only one bus stop away from the lodge, and quickly climbed up towards the top of the rim. Though rather steep, the trail was wide and paved. As we zigzagged along the face of the cliff, the canyon bottom dipped below us. After walking up exactly 21 short switchbacks called Walters Wiggles, we reached Scout’s Lookout Point.

The trail to Angels Landing is about two and a quater miles one way. Having reached Scout’s Lookout Point, we were only about half a mile away from the goal, but what a half a mile that was. Nick decided not to proceed to Angels Landing, and we left our packs with him, which turned out to be a blessing.

The three of us continued on the trail. During the first section of the climb we were on the side of the rock, and the ground sloped down sharply only on one side of the path. I tightly held on to the heavy iron chain drilled into the rock and tried not to look down. I thought we were there, when we reached the other side of the rock and stood on some flat ground. I was wrong. Directly in front me, the steep narrow ridge continued up, and somewhere at the very top I saw ant like people "crawling" along it. I felt dizzy from looking at them. However, the path in front of me was still tolerable. So determined not to turn around until I had to, I followed Ryan and Talia up the cliff.

A lot of time the “trail” was only a couple feet wide, and dropped off over a thousand feet on either side. The climb itself was not at all technical, just frightening in that mortal kind of way. Several times there were people coming down from the top with whom we had to share the path. I thought we were lucky going up this trail in the evening on a weekday. A small crowd and a couple of impatient hikers on this trail could easily lead to a disaster. One guy passed us wearing Tevas, eating watermelon, and walking on the very edge of the path not bothering to wait until we moved over to let him pass.

Talia was making interesting gargling sounds, which were apparently the result of a Yoga breathing technique used to keep one’s spirits up. I tried to mimic the breathing technique—I certainly needed to raise my spirits, but the noises coming out of me mostly resembled loud growling. Soon Talia and I were growling together pretending to be mountain lions. Mountain lines, you see, have no problems climbing cliffs like the one we were on right now. Our species of mountain lions were also more then partial to the chains embedded in the cliff.

The vertical climb ended just as abruptly as it started, at a small platform. Once again informed that this was “not it”, I did not want to continue—the path to the spot actually called Angels Landing lay along the top of this narrow ridge we just climbed. But a hiker about to descend the cliff wisely pointed out that if I made it this far, I should have no problem continuing. Adrenaline pumping, we continued, navigating around some strong pine trees growing right in the middle of the ridge.




The cliff we have just climbed stands a bit forward of the other cliffs forming the rim. Angels Landing is right on the tip of the cliff creating the feeling that it is hanging over the canyon. The spot was given its heavenly name by a group of hikers passing through the canyon in 1916, who thought that only angels could ever land on the spot. The reward for the precarious climb is a 360 degree view of the Zion canyon.

When we reached Angels Landing, the setting sun was coming in and out of the clouds, playing on the cliff faces of the canyon and lighting up the skies. The ribbon of the road snaked below with miniscule buses barely gliding along. We were on top of the world.

On our way down Talia and I raved about the lovely prairie dog rumps which are perfect for sliding downhill. We followed the philosophy of lowering our center of gravity to decrease our chances of losing balance. Even though we had to look down during our descend I found it a lot less frightening, perhaps because now there was no unknowns and no anticipation. Soon we reached Scout’s Lookout Point where Nick has been waiting for us for over 2 hours.

Vladimir Visotsky wrote several songs about climbing the mountains. Of course he was writing about actual mountain climbing and much taller mountains, but I think his words still apply to our case. I am about not only to translate but also to paraphrase, so please bare with me. In one song titled “Saying Goodbye to the Mountains” he wrote, “we descend because there is no other way; …even gods descended down to earth.” In another song called “The Summit” he wrote, “The whole world in a palm. You are happy, and speechless, and only a little jealous of the others who are yet to climb the peak.”

Our walk back down into the canyon was fast and animated by retelling all the details of the climb. We walked to the Lodge, changed and went out to Springdale for a nice sumptuous meal, probably our last real meal in the next 48 hours.

Back at the hotel room, which all 4 of us were sharing that night, rapid packing began. We were packing for our 2 day hike through the Narrows. The men discussed such crucial points as the number of socks, pots, and water filters to bring, and how much the socks really weigh. While I use the word “important” here sarcastically, experience would show that some of these things actually were important. The resolution at the end of the night was one water filter carried by Nick, 2 pots carried by Nick and Ryan, and any number of socks carried by the sock owner. I was glad when we were finally done and could go to sleep.