THE MAGIC OF ZION

A Winter Morning on Angel's Landing

“Go back to the places that burn a hole in your heart -- and fill up, so your heart can be whole again.”

- Me, January 2019 after a day of hiking Zion and Bryce Canyon

It’s a brisk clear morning in the canyon. A bit colder than we’d planned for as we layer up, lace boots and head to breakfast in Springdale, Utah outside Zion National Park. My body buzzes adrenaline electric as this morning’s hiking plan occupies my mind. Angel’s Landing. The day is here.

When I first visited Zion in 2017, the lush microverse enclosed within the canyon captured my heart. Fed by the Virgin River, the trees, hanging gardens and waterfalls create a peaceful oasis that is enclosed and made sacred by the close hug of high canyon walls painted in hues of umber, beige, charcoal, and highlighted by the sun. Ever changing yet timeless, awe inspiring, but on a human scale that my mind could map and understand; Zion reached in and spoke to my soul in ways that the massive big name parks like Yosemite and the Grand Canyon have not quite managed.

On that first visit with my Dad, the park was crowded with autumn travelers and time was short. We rode the shuttle and hiked Emerald Pools and Riverside Walk to the start of The Narrows. I waded barelegged in cheap water shoes a little ways upriver through frigid water. Back at home, the magic of Zion possessed me and hiking Angel’s Landing moved to the top of my bucket list. I knew I had to go back.

Angel’s Landing is well known in the hiking community, and a bucket list item for many. Popular for its challenge and views out over Zion Canyon, many of the pictures and videos I found made it look more like a traffic jam rather than an experience with nature. A server at a restaurant in Kanab told me they were considering making the hike accessible only through a lottery system to control traffic on the trail.

My return to Zion, during a girls hiking trip through Utah’s “Big Five” National Parks, was in January...smack dab in the middle of the 2018/19 government shutdown. For weeks leading up to the trip we kept an eye on how the shutdown was affecting the parks, fearful that we would have to cancel the trip if the parks were to close. Luckily, the parks remained open and well taken care of thanks to sustaining funding from Utah parks preservation and tourism organizations. Nevertheless, we came armed with trash bags and gloves in our packs should we come across a clean up project, ready to do our part.

We flew into Salt Lake City the morning after a snowstorm had blanketed much of the state, especially in higher elevation areas. The following afternoon, arriving in Zion we found that many of the trails were covered in snow and ice, and my crampons that I’d confidently left at home weren’t doing me any good. Our original plan was to hike Angel’s Landing immediately upon arrival in Zion, but January’s early sunsets and weather conditions made us rethink our plan. Truly a blessing in disguise.

After surveying trail conditions on a short hike, we headed straight to Zion Outfitter in Springdale to gear up for the next morning. The crew there were helpful, passing on feedback that they’d received from other hikers attempting Angel’s Landing with varying gear. They said many unprepared hikers had been forced to turn back, but some with crampons had made it to the summit.

I’m a self-professed minimalist when it comes to outdoor gear, only buying what is truly necessary (no $30 hiking socks for this girl...yet). My hiking partner opted for less expensive Yaktrax (with coils), but since I had a pair of those sitting unused, in their box at home, I opted for something with a bit more bite. The Snowline Chainsen Pro was a meaner, metal cleat style spiked crampon with chains. Now we were ready to party.

Early the next morning, we sat in a rustic little restaurant where we sipped tea, shared an omelet and oatmeal with the pre-hike anxiety nagging at our minds. We knew that Angel’s Landing would be a challenging hike, promising great views and the reward of a check mark on my bucket list...the rest was unknown.

Flash forward two-thirds of the way through the ascent. We’ve climbed switchbacks on one of Zion’s canyon walls, cut through a “secret” passageway away from the main canyon, and up more icy switchbacks with the thundering echo of snow melt mini avalanches booming from canyon walls nearby. Now, we’re at a flat, snow-covered crossroads with trail signs and weather condition warning signs. Beyond this point, things would get technical. Seeing deer tracks in the otherwise untouched snow, I made the unscientific conclusion that if deer could roam up here through ice and snow, so could we! With that snugly notion and boots clad with crampons, we headed for the support chains that awaited on the nearby wall.

It was midway through the first span of chains curving up snow covered steps formed by the natural rock wall that I first saw my friend hesitate. The conditions and technicality of the hike had her a bit spooked. She had never learned hiking skills such as foot and body placement for unstable terrain. There was some fear of getting to the top and not being able to stick the descent. As the more experienced hiker, I felt a great responsibility in making decisions weighing safety and physical/mental ability over ego. I generally err on the conservative side of safety based decisions. The snow had definitely made this one of the most technically challenging hikes I’d experienced, but I cheered and coached my friend on.

We celebrated as we reached a large flat area with a decent view out over Zion. We’d made it to the Landing! As we set up for pictures and took in the view, I calculated in my mind the distance we’d traveled and it didn’t add up. A tall fin of rock rose up out into the canyon ahead of us, but from our vantage point it didn’t seem to meet up with where we sat. Then, I spotted another span of chains climbing down to our left. They led across a narrow stone slab bridge and, upon a closer glance I could make out the trail -- a daunting, seemingly impossible climb up the steep ridge ahead.

I broke the news to my friend in a combination, “land ho!” meets “whoops, there it is!” type vibe. The reaction was not good. Her face fell as she looked in horror and doubt at the trail that appeared to be snow covered, exposed, and nearly vertical in some parts. After some thought and cheerleading we continued on, me chanting words of encouragement along the way. The best advice was so obvious and practical. We were going to get through this just like anything else in life...one step at a time.

There were a few points on the trail where we stopped and I saw panic and fear set in, where my friend held her face in her hands, not knowing if she could move on. Whether it was the height and drop offs, or the snow and ice, this was more than a physical challenge. There were several times I questioned whether we would make the summit, whether we should just turn back. Closer to the top, moments when I thought I would be standing on the Landing alone. But each time, I got to see the mental challenge of the hike and my friend’s strength, her ability and decision to overcome it.

When we set foot on rock, after the last section of chains, the wildly majestic snow-covered canyon stretched out before us and below us. There was no one else at the summit. We were the first of the day to make it to the top save for possibly one man that we had passed on our way up. The experience of the hike and the views were incredible, unique, memorable. What made the hike special was experiencing my friend’s ability to overcome fear, to have her place her trust in me as her guide, teacher, and friend. For me, stepping into that leadership role was empowerment reawakened like a long sleeping beast. It has inspired me to continue to climb mountains, empower and inspire others, and to arm myself with knowledge in survival training and NOLS Wilderness First Aid (WFA).

One of my favorite John Muir quotes says that, “in every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.”* Sometimes this comes from reflection, meditation, a green promise of goodwill. Other times, the natural world presents a challenge, an arena, an invitation to travel outside your comfort zone, opening the door to a fuller, deeper potential far beyond the summit views and Instagram pictures. That is the magic of Angel’s Landing.

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*Read more from John Muir's Steep Trails (1918) online at the Sierra Club's John Muir Exhibit