All week long, the only camp drama and nervousness about the trip centered on Angels Landing. Having done the hike, I now know why. Prior to getting here, the only time I had heard about Angels Landing is when I saw it referenced on the REI website.
Then, somehow, I mistakenly believed it was about a 200 foot crossing of a narrow rockway that required the use of chains to make the final ascent. Wrong! It’s actually a half mile, 500 foot elevation change along steep and slippery rock that are mostly chained (you hold the chains – tightly – as you go). An estimated 15 people have died since the trail opened, and when you start to type in Angels Landing on Google, the third most popular next word is “death.”
(I’ll wait while you do it since you don’t believe me. Editor: That chip on your shoulder is still there, I see. Blogger: Nodding my head.)
Also, when you simply google “Angels Landing,” the fourth entry is
a video entitled: “Angels Landing – Scariest Hike in America?”
And then there’s the audio announcement on the shuttle bus just before the stop. It goes: “Angels Landing is a strenuous and dangerous trail, rising 1,500 feet in 2.5 miles. People die on it all the time. Not everyone dies, but you there on this bus, with the backpack and weird hat; yes, you – you are scheduled to be the next to die.” Since I had a backpack and a weird hat, I figured they were talking to me.
(To be honest, that’s not exactly what the announcement said, but that is, word for word, how my brain translated it. Needless to say, whatever confidence I had psyched myself up for drained away quickly, like a flash flood through a slot canyon. I’ll wait while you, dear readers, appreciate the appropriate nature – pun intended – of my metaphor.)
Angel’s Landing was named in 1916 by a Methodist minister, when one of his traveling companions (Editor’s Note: So you call your group “fellow travelers” but his group consisted of “traveling companions?” Blogger: Even though it seems like I do, you don’t want to overdo a joke) said that “Only an angel could land on it.”
It is one of a handful of signature hikes in Zion, as the route gains 1,500 feet of elevation in just over 2.5 miles.
But I’ve gotten ahead of myself.
Rising at 5:45 am, I blogged and enjoyed the sunrise. Everyone was all business as we had a great traditional breakfast of eggs, hash browns, sausages, and biscuits. Amanda gave us a more detailed than usual talk about how the day would go, including the possibility of stopping at Scout’s Landing (two miles up) or even turning around once partway up Angels Landing.
We drove back out 8 Mile Dirt Road (not the actual name) turned right and into Zion National Park. A short distance into the park, we were greeted by two groups of four Bighorn Sheep. I’ve seen Bighorn Sheep before, but they’ve always been far above me, up on cliffs.
(Joke I made up on the trip: “When you see bighorn sheep at the edge of high cliffs and they are threatening to jump, just remember they are only bluffing!” Once you are done laughing, please continue reading.)
And then we went through the tunnel, getting spectacular views out the holes into the the eastern canyon and then to the west. Even that early there were a lot of cars. This is not a complaint – people SHOULD enjoy our national parks.
We drove to the maintenance center, parked, bathroomed, and hopped on the shuttle bus. The road back into the main canyon is only for use by shuttle busses and vehicles staying at the lodge (well, people stay at the lodge, the vehicles are technically parked outside, but you get the idea). We hopped off the bus at the Grotto stop, but not before hearing the aforementioned Grim Reaper Warning of My Impending Death.
I made a decision which, in retrospect, does not seem to matter at all. The decision was to not take photos on the way up, because it does slow the group down. I figured I would shoot at the top and on the way down. It worked for the first two miles up, as we stayed relatively together as a group.
Even before the last half mile, it’s a climb. The start is easy, as you head from the parking lot across the Virgin River. We followed that for a while, before starting the climb. The path is actually paved till the two mile mark. It’s a series of switchbacks, leading up to a beautiful rock face, followed by Refrigerator Canyon. The latter is named because the sun hits there later, keeping it cooler, longer.
The last bit after the canyon but before Scout Lookout is Walter’s Wiggles, a series of 21 short, steep switchbacks named after the Superintendent who oversaw construction of the wiggles. They are the second-most famous Wiggles, but alas, the band Reckless Kelly has never done a song about these Wiggles and Ritalin.
The Wiggles took a bunch out of me, but we stopped for a bit at Scout Lookout, where the smelliest toilets of the trip are to be found. We rested on a rock under the shade whilst Amanda gave us a pep talk and instructions.
And soon we were off. And that’s when Angels Landing kicked my butt. I followed a rather sound strategy – eyes focused on the rock immediately in front of my feet, taking care to keep my hands on the chains. Alas, I don’t have any “climbing with the chains” because I was not going to stop to take out the camera.
Besides, there were choke points on the narrow ledges/chains that were more crowded than the Hillary Step of Everest when a major storm is blowing in. (Sorry to make light of that tragic day, but like it, there was a lot of waiting around for people to clear.) I really struggled going up – not so much from fear, but everything hurt – my damaged toe, my nearly-amputated right ankle (different story) and my bad left knee. Worse, though, was struggling for breath. My doctor keeps telling me to lose 30 pounds, and this hike proved why I need to.
Moronically, I had forgotten to bring snacks. Had them for all the other hikes, none of which were rating strenuous. That was a big mistake, as sucking down Gu didn’t make up for actual food. For a guy who is usually organized for hiking, it was my second dumb mistake of the trip.
It’s funny, just ten days prior I did a 5 mile hike up Spy Rock on the Appalachian Trail that I thought would prove to be excellent training. It’s 2.5 miles up with an elevation gain of 1,100 feet, including a rock scramble at the end to get up to the top. Angels Landing was the same distance but with 400 added feet of elevation gain. Of course, for Spy Rock the elevation gain starts immediately, while for Angels Landing you probably hike 3/10s of a mile or so before the elevation gain really gets going – so it’s even more gain in a shorter period of time.
Although I was afraid of falling (a completely rational thought), that was not what caused my struggle. At one break, Amanda got down on her haunches, looked me in the eye, and gave me a gut check. I semi-lied and said I was ready. There was never a point I wanted to turn back – just plenty of times where I was embarrassing myself in front of the group (well, actually “behind the group” as it were).
I do remember turning a corner at one point, looking up to the ground yet to be covered, and, like Ralphie, saying “oh fudge.” Chance patiently stayed with me the whole way, earning his pay and urging me on.
Eventually I made it, to the relief of myself and our guides. (I’m betting death hampers your reviews). The views from up top are, as you would expect, stunning. It’s a long, slightly wider spine of rock than what we had just traversed to get there. I did joke, asking where the REI helicopter landing pad is located to take us down.
I went up to the front, but was repelled by the smell of someone’s marijuana smoke. Must be a great place to get high, of course you still have to go down the Cliffs of Insanity, so I’m not sure they were the brightest buds. Instead I retreated back to where our group was hanging out.
Angels Landing is a very popular trail – sort of the Humpback Rocks of Zion. And this was a Wednesday after school is back in (I would not take a child of mine on Angels Landing – that’s too scary). Lots of people were there, and, thankfully, I was not the only one massively struggling.
We had to head back down eventually, as more and more people were summitting. Down was better for me, but it was still damn hard work. I got a little shaky from hunger, but pressed on, because there was no other choice. Getting back to Scouts Lookout was a relief. My bad knee swelled up, and my toe hurt with every step, but I limped down Walter’s Wiggles, and finally took some photos (besides at the top). Back down through Refrigerator Canyon, which had been unplugged in the sun and heated up, and then the long switchbacks down.
I staggered back across the bridge, the road, and into the picnic area, where Amanda and Chance were calmly setting up lunch.
Taking off my boots and hiking socks resulted in sweet relief.
