Where Angels Alight

We made it to Zion! Possibly the most talked-up stop on our National Park mini-tour, Zion did not disappoint. The drive in is magnificent, with giant stony monoliths rising to the left and right of the red, winding road. Yep! Even the pavement is red for the first few miles of the drive into the park.

A long tunnel burrows over a mile through one mountain, with little side lookouts cutting through the darkness, teasing the beauty that awaits. A gentle stream winds lazily down the middle, its cold waters nurturing a lush greenery where the mountain bases meet. People became aware of Zion (which was, of course, not yet named Zion) at the start of the 20^th century when a painter lived here for a summer, then presented his paintings at the St. Louis World’s Fair. Visitors to the fair couldn’t believe this place, with its steep red cliffs and gorgeous rainbow landscapes, really existed. Over the next few decades, Zion achieved National Monument – and later Park – status as well as its current name, and the rest is history.

Our first stop was The Grotto, takeoff point for the renowned Angel’s Landing.

A look up at Angel's Landing (right)

Each national park offers a little map and another larger newspaper-like printout that describes the trails and ranks them by difficulty. Angel’s Landing falls solidly in the “strenuous” category, which at Zion also includes warnings to avoid these trails in the event of rain, wind, or snow due to precarious footing. The newspaper also had a stern warning that these trails are not for those with a fear of heights. The weather was practically perfect in every way, but Josh has a mighty case of fear of heights. Undaunted, he picked Angel’s Landing as our introduction to Zion. The first part of the hike was a steep two-mile ascent along a smooth, paved trail. Then, you reach the top of that particular hill (a local maximum of sorts) and the real hike begins. Along a thin, winding trail along bare rock face, precarious enough to require chain handholds for the majority of the ascent, hundreds of people of varying abilities stream out to Angel’s Landing and back. This makes the trail not only crowded but filled with clusters of people clinging to rocks, chains, trees, and anything that appears solidly attached to the mountain. Any place that the trail widens to more than a foot or two across becomes a key gathering point, allowing foot traffic heading the opposite direction to pass and free up the chain handholds. Each cluster of climbers peers ahead, trying to spot a break in the oncoming traffic so they can make it to the next wide point. Guess right, and you make some death-defying forward progress. Guess wrong, and you are suddenly battling for the meager foot space with strangers who must reach around you on the chain to relieve the bottleneck. While most of the ascent was fine – at least, once you had the hang of it – there were a couple places where the mountain fell away beneath our feet, a couple where we had to pull ourselves up (or lower ourselves down) entirely on the chain, and several where there was no chain and we had to scramble across an exposed stretch of rock while being buffeted by gusts of wind. I found the whole thing a little thrilling, but Josh was less of a fan. His fear of heights finally reared its head about 90% of the way up and forced him to sit out the last few chains’-worth of ascent. I continued on, quickly reaching the top after scrambling across one last long stretch of bare rock through the wind. To be honest, the view was not all that different from where I had left Josh, but it was unobstructed and certainly beautiful. While I don’t know which poetic adventurer named this place, it’s not hard to imagine the angels approving of this spot.

View from the top of Angel's Landing, to the right

View from the top of Angel's Landing, to the left

To make the most of the day, we also walked the path to the Lower Emerald Pool. The lush greenery around this pocket of water starkly contrasted the dry, dusty path we had taken to Angel’s Landing just hours earlier. Pools such as these allow wildlife to flourish in Zion. On the walk to the pool, we saw mule deer grazing, their enormous ears twisting too and fro and a constantly surprised look on their faces.

Note the butt of a baby mule dear just behind the one in the foreground

We saw not one but two tarantulas, much to Josh’s dismay (although to the excitement of a five-year-old boy who named one “Jeff”).

Everyone, meet Jeff.

We have also been lucky enough to see other wildlife around Zion, including big horn sheep, little lizards, numerous birds, very brave chipmunks, and strange waddling squirrels.

Lush greenery along the Virgin River that winds through the park

A bee on the ubiquitous yellow wildflowers we have seen across Utah

While our first day at Zion has been idyllic, there are constant reminders that this place is still wild and has its dangers. Shuttle stop #7 is closed indefinitely due to three rockslides this year, one of which injured three visitors and all of which have destroyed trails – although the damage has not yet been fully evaluated due to the ongoing danger. Similarly, a sign at the beginning of the ascent to Angel’s Landing announces that nine people have fallen to their deaths since 2004 attempting this climb. We had seen people nonchalantly climb in flip flops, carrying infants in their hands, and posing for photos with uncertain footing. I’ll admit, there was a part of me that was surprised that number wasn’t higher. Of course, everything at Zion mentions keeping the parks in their natural wild state, despite the associated risks. Visitors are constantly reminded that our safety is our responsibility. But my other favorite phrase they use on visitors? “Be like Bigfoot – leave no trace.”

Spotted: Endofthe Road. This road sign, which we encountered on our drive to our much-further-out-of-the-way-than-expected lodge, cracks me up every time we pass it. I have to believe the person who named the street and possibly still lives there is hilarious.