The road chose me

Hiking with numb feet is harder than I ever thought it would be, much much harder. I can’t feel anything below my knees, so stepping on a rock feels no different than walking on pavement. Having stiff planks for legs makes balance a huge problem and we’re both waving our arms frantically to avoid an unintentional dip. My boots are completely full of water and absurdly heavy, but I’m thankful for the toe-stubbing protection they provide, as I blindly kick my way across the river time and time again.
As I shiver uncontrollably, thinking about the risk of flash floods and the fourteen miles still to go, I have to wonder; how did I get into this mess?

I don’t even wear a watch any more, so waking up to an alarm is very strange for me. I’ve been in the Mountain Time Zone for nearly a month now, and my watch and clock in the jeep are still set on the wrong time zone. At 5am sunrise is so far away the sky does not even have a hint of light yet, just a smattering of stars visible above Zion Canyon. I met Mike the day before hiking Angel’s Landing and we rendezvous at the visitors center, then set out for the 90 minute drive to Chamberlain’s Ranch Trailhead, immensely thankful for car heaters.

The air has a cold bite as we set off with our tiny day packs and not much gear, knowing we have a massive day of difficult hiking ahead. At the first river crossing about a hundred feet away I play the rock hopping game to keep my heavy leather boots dry as long as possible.
One thought repeats over and over in my mind; it’s not going to last.

Mike in the wide canyon

The first hour of walking is on a jeep trail in an open valley, and we both eagerly point and smile when we see the canyon walls slowly creeping up from the ground. The Virgin River soon identifies itself to us, and we’re crossing and crossing again in no time.
When told the river is running at 54˚F (12˚C), we cried out in unison “Sounds perfect!”
It’s not.
It’s cold.

At times the fall colors were brilliant, making us think we were out for a stroll

Stumbling along with our numb feet we quickly realize the task of the day is river crossings. At this early stage of the canyon, only one side rises vertically to an impossible height, while the other side is wide open and flat. With every bend the river takes, the sides are continually swapping and therefore so are we. The river here is only shin deep at best and not flowing with any real urgency, so we make good time and arrive at “First Narrows” ahead of schedule.

Mike entering First Narrows

We’ve been able to see the sun shining on the canyon walls all morning, but it’s been too narrow and steep to allow the warmth to reach us. We’re grinning like mad when we see a patch of sunlight beaming on the hillside that we can reach and perch there for our first snack break, trying to thaw our feet.

About to enter First Narrows

Not surprisingly, First Narrows is the first time the canyon walls close in and are completely vertical, forcing us to walk right down the river. I can’t touch both walls at the same time, but it’s close. We agree it would be a riot to jump off the 15 foot waterfall into the turquoise pool below, shivering uncontrollably as we walk around it.

The waterfall in First Narrows

The canyon opens up again and we hike for many hours, endless crossing the river, hopping over rocks and crossing the river again. All the while it’s gaining water, making it grow in depth and intensity. The crossings are turning into wading, and both of us hesitate when it’s obviously over our waist. We backtrack and try the other side, only to find it even deeper. Mike takes one for the team and goes first – grimacing on tippy toes the whole way.

Mike trying to avoid the deeper turquoise water

We continue in this fashion for a long time, never really going above our waists – but it was never going to last. Walking in the river is much harder than I anticipated – the bottom is strewn with rocks of all sizes that move when stepped on, and the flowing water is white and impossible to see through. We silently know a fall is all but inevitable. Mike takes a tiny goat track high above the river, which I really don’t like the look of. Maybe if I back track five minutes I’d find a way around the other side, but I’ve been kinda looking for an excuse to swim all morning.

The impressive canyon walls

I take off my pack, hold it high above my head with one hand and forge ahead aiming for the far bank, only 15 feet away. When the bottom drops out from under me I get a huge shock and realize it’s a lot harder to tread water with one hand while wearing heavy leather hiking boots than I thought. I’m fighting hard to keep my mouth above the water and think seriously about ditching my pack, while Mike looks on helplessly from above. I manage to struggle across with a dry pack, and it occurs to me what a stupid thing I just did. I was never going to drown, but I was cold before I started and now I’m really cold.

Precious sunlight at the canyon top

Pretty soon I’m shivering hard and decide the only thing for it is to keep moving while rubbing my core and thinking warm thoughts. We continue in the same vein, passing Big Spring and reach The Narrows – the insanely narrow, steep section of the canyon that makes this hike so famous. Walking in the river for extended periods is absolutely mandatory as the walls tower over a thousand feet above our heads.

Big Spring

The canyon here is steeper, taller and more colorful than anything we’ve seen yet and it’s clearly the highlight of the day. It’s possible to reach this section of the canyon by hiking up from the main park area and we soon start seeing the odd person, then more and more until it’s quite busy. We realize our huge day is coming to an end, so we subconsciously slow down, trying to soak in every last minute possible. Everyone else has rented hiking poles, dry suits and massive camera setups and are trying to avoid the deeper water like the plague. We throughly enjoy looking freakishly out of place as we wade through the deepest parts of the river in shorts, grinning from ear to ear.

The Narrows, which are

Sloshing along the hike out in soaking wet gear attracts some great scowls and looks of genuine surprise and even fear from other park visitors. The remainder of the day is filled with riding the bus back to the visitors center, picking up my Jeep, driving to get Mike’s car and then all the way back.

"The Narrows"

With very limited stops it took us nine hours of solid hiking, and all told it’s a fifteen hour round trip day from the visitors center.

Zion Narrows was an amazing day hike, in my opinion clearly worthy of it’s top ten world ranking.

-Dan

I’ve been hearing stories about Zion since before I started this adventure, so it has always been on my ‘must see’ list. I arrive at the east entrance nice and early to find people everywhere. I drive the width of the park, through ‘The Tunnel’ and get the low down at the visitor’s center. The campground is is almost full even at 11am, so I throw up my tent, inhale lunch and set out for Angel’s Landing.

Zion has a really great setup where you park at the visitor’s center or the nearby town of Springdale and catch a free bus anywhere you want to go. The canyon is so small and popular this is really the only way to deal with the number of people, and it works really really well. A bus shows up every few minutes and makes about ten stops on the way up the canyon, then the same on the return loop. Driving up the canyon in a bus is also a great way to look around and really soak in the views, while listening to commentary about what you can see.

I’ve heard how crazy of a hike Angel’s Landing is, so I’m well prepared with a couple of liters of water, snacks, hiking boots & my waterproof shell. I get a bit confused and think I’m going the wrong way when I see family groups, small children and people in jeans and city shoes.

The view along Zion Canyon

It turns out the first four and a half miles are relatively family friendly. I do need to clarify that – it’s nice and wide, well trafficked and well maintained and it’s also steep. Ridiculously steep. Right from the get-go the switchbacks start and they don’t let up until I break out onto a landing, apparently where most people stop and turn around. I’m impressed when a hiker overtakes me on the steep incline, something that doesn’t happen very often.

Zion Canyon as seen from the top

I’m of course going to the very top and so begin the final half mile which is equally as steep, about 20 feet wide and with at least a thousand foot vertical drop on both sides. Chains have been placed into the rock, which come in very handy on more than a few occasions.
I consider myself very confident with my footing, even at these heights.
I’m still holding on

It's a long way down

The busy trail makes the going slow as we have to stop for people coming down and co-ordinate who gets to hold on and who has to let go and find their own way. It’s clear the children and non-hikers have all turned around before now and I’m moving up with only dedicated hikers. Every step the view gets better and better, and my eyes bulge further and further from my head.

The ridge and surrounds

Of course I walk all the way out to the very highest end point of the ridge and am rewarded with an amazing view up and down Zion Canyon. Even more impressive is the view of the ridge I have just hiked up – it looks more narrow now that I thought. I sit and enjoy the sun for an hour, munching on my snacks and chatting to all the hikers coming and going.

Standing on the top, very aware of the drop behind me

I meet Mike, the hiker who overtook me earlier and we quickly discover we are both living the same kind of life. Mike quit his engineering job a couple of years ago and has been traveling around ever since, seeing the world. His latest adventures have him living out of his car across America and by now he has seen almost all the National Parks. You can check out his travel website at www.mypinkyup.com, the name of which comes from his permanently damaged little finger courtesy of some muggers in Columbia.

Mike and I are both excited to hike the biggest, baddest, bestest trail Zion has to offer and eagerly sign up for the next morning.
Signing five different waivers about the dangers only makes us more excited….

-Dan