Through Winter Parks (2/4)

Through Winter Parks (2/4)
December 28, 2000
Still about Zion, and how it is unwise to commit to following your husband wherever he goes...



	Welcome to Zion



	Climbers amuse us - in the zoomed picture, look for a small spot on the bottom of the middle tower

We would not dare to try breakfast at Switchback, just stopped to pick a hat for me. Yet the gift shop was closed, for a change. So we rattled over to the park and tried "Zion Canyon Scenic Drive". Approximately in second third of the canyon, we finally found a sunny place (winter cold sneaked in here), unpacked our ham (a gift the size of American football from Martina and George, which we had to take on our trip), pickles, and bagels. A pack of climbers hanging around and on a distant wall amused us while we ate. We watched them for a while through our binoculars; they were scrambling up a wall beset with bolts three feet apart, fought incredibly, took an expedition approach (each conquered a yard or two, let the others lower him again, and another one took his place), and generally were screwing it up royally. It was either very difficult or they were space cadets. The route led all the way to the top, about 1200 feet, and during our breakfast they never made even first pitch, i.e. they would never have finished within daylight time.



	Angels Landing Point is on the top



	First part of the ascent. Can you make out pilgrims on the switchback trail?

We completed the rest of the scenic ride (there were only few turns left), studied park newsletter (everyone gets a map and a bulletin at the entrance) and chose our hiking trail. I had selected Angels Landing since the night before, because it was indicated as a four-hour round trip, which appeared adequate. We usually fit within official times comfortably, including our picture taking, meals, and admiring the scenery. Sid did not express himself at all, but as soon as he saw people up on the lookout on the top of a giant wall, it was decided.

The guide book said literally that it was a strenuous hike, not advised for anybody fearful of heights. Yet, Americans tend to discourage you on every opportunity, hence we did not consider it important. What we did not think of was the fact we were in Utah, which apparently lacks the numbers of lawyers common to California, and they subsequently let you take responsibility for your own actions here.



	Sunlight bounces back and forth between red rock walls, which gives the Refrigerator Canyon its beautiful illumination



	A view out of a rock ledge near Scout Lookout

Driving back around our breakfast spot towards The Grotto - look, our wonderful climbers are gone... they probably gave up. We snitched the last parking room at the Grotto -- Angels Landing is obviously very popular. It must have taken us an hour to prepare, because we had to locate hiking boots and jackets inside our already disarrayed car, change clothes and shoes, pack food, cameras... simply awful! But we eventually departed.

Right after few yards, a fellow in blue jeans ran by us with water bottles attached to each side of his belt like external kidneys. Sid said the guy was a nut, I thought that he might be just a little weird. We caught up with him in a while, he was on a trip with a rather large family, including four kids, three of them in their teens (wearing bored faces). I maintained that a man who won't let his children rot at McDonalds during the holidays cannot be that bad. His adolescent boys scaled the rocks, his adolescent daughter kept screaming at them for it.



	First chains. I am already not well, yet still unaware of things to come...



	... lookit ... second summit - one gets there along the edge...

After a while we left the first part of the trail behind and immersed ourselves into Refrigerator Canyon. The move took us out of acoustic range of the noisy family. Refrigerator Canyon is naturally quite cold (especially after you drag yourself for half an hour up a crazy slope during midday heat), but it its filled with wonderful light. Rays bounce back and forth between rock walls and paint them bright red.

Then we reached a section where the trail zigzags through artificial terraces, it is named Walter's Wiggle. The family approached us again during our drinking pause. They started getting on our nerves slightly, for the hyperactive father (he had to be either a drill sergeant or a gym teacher) kept running forth, where he ogled his daughter through his new video camera and yelled. She yelled right back, with the intensity of a German beerfest company in action. (A real German company was there with us, showing no beers though, instead they held their breaths over neckbreaking cliffs.)



	Carol with a view... can you see my enthusiasm???



	Eyeing the fifteen hundred feet dropoff

Walter's Wiggle tops into Scout Lookout, and that's where most people finish. It looked like Time Square, so we continued up along signs promising a 1/2 mile to Angels Landing Point. First chains could be seen after few yards. I tried not to gaze down and kept scrambling up the top. It did not hurt much.

My relief was completely premature. There, half a mile up the trail, was the real top, one could see tiny hikers scaling a sickeningly narrow edge up to get there. Sid ignored my suddenly frozen face and walked on happily. I swear I had no idea that to follow my husband -- till death does us part -- might ever get so literal! :-)



	Sid on Angels Landing Point



	Only return possible is along that edge right behind me...

The trail really followed the edge, which did not seem so sharp from closer on, but abysses on each side were gaping wide all the time. About the middle we met a young lady who was crawling down the trail on her butt and confirmed we had just a small distance to go, for she had crawled like that for only five minutes.

Well I should have felt a relief on the summit, but it did not come... imagining the route back... What was worse, the gym teacher's expedition (minus the mother) reached us again, filling the air with loud picture taking and childish yelling (where are you? yeiiiiiiii? I'm here, hoooooooooo...) with father showing off with his videocamera, balancing over the dropoff.



	Where is my clean underwear???



	One more view like this and I'm filing for divorce.

I expected correctly - the trip down was no less scary than going up. I would like to use this opportunity to say that I finally understood why all those guide books suggest packing dry underwear when you hike the mountains. Your aunt Carol adds -- you may truly need CLEAN underwear :-) . Especially if you're not in love with thousands feet dropoffs.



	Just a few steps to a regular path...



	Walters Wiggle. Right before our conflict with the gym teacher's family.

Beginning at Scout Lookout, where paved walkway starts, it was fun again... except for the ever noisier gym teacher. I had to admit that Sid was right, he was not just odd, he was really nuts. At one moment we happened to be between him (up on top of Walter's Wiggle) and his daughter and wife (below). The second they started enthusiastically respond to his hollering again, I could not bear it any longer and asked them politely (but resolutely) to stop yelling. They said not a word, spun around and vanished like steam over a casserole. Good for them...

Back at the parking lot I (very gladly) let Sid convince me that it was his turn to drive again. We left once more for the unfortunate Switchback, for they alone seemed to have the right hat, which would fit me. Now we're a good pair. Sid looks kind of like a cowboy, I look like a desperado. We concluded we had enough of Zion this time and went for Page, Arizona.

Next about Indian attractions, Indian customs, Indian lunch... - simply about Indiania.

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