Zion, Utah (Part 1)

You may have caught onto the fact that Hamish and I have not been in Las Vegas for 2 weeks. Disappointing, I know. We are in fact home, and I have been lazy about bringing the final chapters of our trip to the great interwebs. So, without further a due, Utah.

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Hamish had been to Utah before some 6 or 7 years ago and had loved every minute of it. I had little idea what was there other than lots of red rock, and more heat. My lower expectations certainly amplified the level to which I was blown away by what we saw.

The sleepy little town of Springdale sits in the south easter corner of Utah, and next to the famous Zion Valley. It has more organic cafes and bead shops than almost anywhere I have ever seen before. A true haven for desert hippies. It seemed that everyone we met was there for the same reason, to spend time in Zion.

Locals and guidebooks alike told us of a strenuous and spectacularly dangerous hike to a place called Angels Landing. Seeing as we had happily romped around every other national park in bare feet and swimming trunks whilst everyone else wore hiking boots, carried walking poles and backpacks with water tanks in them, we figured that the descriptions we grossly exaggerated. Now, you’re probably expecting me to say, “oh how wrong we were!!!” but, for once, we were right.

The Canyon is closed to traffic so a lovely, propane powered bus took us on an excruciatingly slow ride passed countless Biblically named rock formations, cliffs and rivers (The first man to start naming thing in the valley was a man of the Lord, you see). We reached our stop and began our hike. Late afternoon had proven to be a good time to go, not too hot, not too cold, in fact, almost perfect. Countless switchbacks (turns in the trail, making an zig zag pattern up a steep slope) later and just as the heat was beginning to get to us, we reached a long deep crack in the rock called refrigerator canyon. A strangely cool prevailing breeze funneled through the rock and provided a great place to rest and rehydrate.

The chunk of rock we were actually trying to climb jutted out right into the middle of the canyon, it supposedly offered an almost 360 degree view of Zion but to get there one had to cling onto chains anchored into the rock. Letting go meant a 400m drop to the canyon floor below, the last quarter mile of climbing brought new definition to the phrase white knuckles. Reaching the top we realized it was all worth it, I present to you, Zion Canyon as seen from Angles Landing...

Canyon and the sky

Canyon floor