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This post will over the last 2 days of our Transverse of the Zion Wilderness. If you have been following along, you will know that we are camped on the East side of West Rim mesa/plateau at what is probably one of the best sites in all the National Parks. It is Jed, Paul, Jim and myself, minus Mike who is hanging out in Vegas, we awake early, around 6:30 to get up and see what the sunrise brings us this day. We are in Mountain Time, on the West edge of that timezone, so Sunrise is about 7:21 with first light appearing at least 30 minutes prior. When I emerged from my tent there was the hint of a glow on the Eastern horizon. I grabbed my chair and moved down to the trail junction where we had a clear view. Unfortunately the sky was clear which meant that there would not be any colored clouds, and it would just be a clear sunrise. Anyone who chases Sunrises or Sundowns knows that the best versions involve clouds. We ventured from our viewing site looking for other opportunities I believe Jim got a Raven to pose for him a wee bit down The Grotto trail.

One phenomenon that we heard before we saw was the bees looking for food and water. In the chill of the night, the Ponderosa Pines maybe ooze a little sap, and the bees are looking for that sap. We also found bees on any wet rock, this was down the grotto trail where water was seeping out above the cliff, and wetting the exposed rock. The bees landed and extended their proboscis to get a drink. I also took a walk down to the spring, and just like Wildcat Spring, Cabin Spring had that drone sound sound from all the buzzing.

Satisfied we had enough for that event we retreated to camp for breakfast and coffee drinks. We weren’t in any hurry this day, so we lazily ate, chatted the morning away, and got a late start on our day hike to the West Rim. I checked in with Mike and he was back in Vegas. My friend Steve, who had helped Paul, drove into Springdale, retrieved Mike and got him to a Vegas bound shuttle out of St George. Mike was holed up in Harrahs awaiting our return.

Meanwhile, we hung our food, and set out for the West Rim, climbing immediately from the junction. It seems we were about 300’ below the West Rim proper, and the trail began with a number of switchbacks that offered up South facing views of the rock structures until we climbed past sites 3 and 4, and emerged with that Western view over Blue Creek and the left fork that was nothing but spectacular in the light.

We found the first vista, with a nice sitting log, and stopped for a snack and a drink. We sat there for awhile, at times everyone angling for an image that no one else had. Post trip I can say that while many of us gathered our own unique perspectives, there were a fair number of overlap shots. Jim usually has the best eye, Jed’s eye is improving, myself, I like shots in which people are just doing their thing, being themselves, and Paul, well he was just happy to be there.

I found an image that I had to do a lot of extra work on. In the original composite shot that captured Paul, he was distracted, and while it is still a pretty nice image, his distracted look distracts from the image overall, however I had been experimenting with the “Other” bracketing settings, and I took a 7 exposure shot of Paul, still on the rock, and that HDR merge was a fine shot, so I took that image and replaced the original, and I got a different version of the composite, which is much more wall worthy.

We moved North along the edge of the rim, weaving in and out of yellow orange scrub oaks, eventually passing a site I felt had a decent chance of being our campsite in 2011. The sites have been re-organized, and my memory is not that detailed, so I had to guess. My memory was a fairly exposed site with just barely a wind break to cook by and enough wind to make setting our tents a challenge. It also has a decent view to the East as well. The hard drive with those images failed, and I haven’t recovered them.

From there we moved further North, closing in on the Junction with Telephone Canyon, but not reaching it. There was a beautiful vista point, just vacated by a group of young lady hikers where we hung for around 15 minutes before Paul and Jim decided to head back. Jed and I decided to check out the last camp on the plateau, which was really nice, though far from water, and decided to connect the dots with Telephone before turning back. We caught up to Jim and Paul before the descent, and together we walked back down to Camp 1 where I think I was the first to say “I am not walking back up for the Sunset” and we rued the decision to ignore Paul’s request, or idea that we take dinner and a stove with us, and just stay up there. In retrospect that was stupid. Jim decided we were all lazy, and set off for the West Rim with his headlamp. He would eat when he returned.

Meanwhile we enjoyed the sunset from our camp and its glow upon the Eastern sky while we enjoyed our dinners. Dessert would await Jim’s return, which we all labored over as the clock went tick-tock while we stared up looking for the defending headlamp. I should point out that an older gentleman like us wandered up from below, destined for Camp 3 in the fading light. We offered him the option to find a spot in our camp, but he declined and headed up the trail. Still we awaited Jim’s headlamp as the clock approached the max we had set before we would hike to meet him. Just as we were ready to stand, a light appeared high above us, and Jim appeared to be running down the trail. I guess he was hungry.

He was hungry, and he was happy with his efforts, showing us some of his takes while his water boiled. We regretted again not listening to Paul’s suggestion. Once again, the end of another day, but not just any other end of a day. This was our last night in Zion. The next day, was down to the Grotto where hopefully we would meet my friend Steve on his way up. I had exchanged a number of texts, none of which actually said anything more than, we’ll hike down and see you on the way up. Until then, there was dessert, and the last of the bourbon to finish off, and an agreement to give the sunrise another go in the morning. With that, we all retired to our tents.

I was up twice that night to pee, and each time, I put my glasses on so as to enjoy the sweeping night sky that lay above me in full uninterrupted splendor. The North Star, always where it should be, sat steady, while the big dipper rotated around it, as did the rest of the little dipper. Jupiter had just risen the second time I was up, and though no falling stars observed, there are alwasys 1 or 2 satellites that can be found. I lay back in my bag for another hour before it was time to arise for the sunrise, this time, there were some clouds that would add some dramatic effects. The shots I took this morning, far outdid the shots from the previous day, and I believe everyone who was watching this sunrise, enjoyed a finer display as well.

By the time we got back to our camp and checked for messages, Steve had sent, what would be one of the few he could get out, “On my way Up”, to which my response of “We are just starting breakfast and will break camp afterwards” went out, but wasn’t received. I believe Steve was operating on the assumption we were or would be on our way down, and I was thinking that Steve would just keep climbing until he ran into us, so we didn’t really hurry through breakfast, but we didn’t dawdle that much either. It was a lovely morning, the water was tasty, I drank the last of my coffee drink, and we packed up for the trip down. I am leaving out all the people we talked to at the junction before we came back, because that added more to our delay.

With everything packed and tied on, we began our descent from the juntion. Just prior to the setoff, a lovely woman of Canadian origin by the name of Jessica, walked up and chatted us up for a bit. She had gotten an early start and was headed up to the West Rim, but was very happy to stop for a rest. I am a sucker for any woman that wants to chat, and so we didn’t stop chatting until it seemed like she was ready to cut it off, and we parted with “See you later” knowing full well she would catch us on the way down. That encounter simply increased the conviction in me that we would run into Steve between now and Scout’s Lookout (Angel’s Landing). There was a text from him that he was at Scout’s and was asking an eta, which I got wrong by texting back “at least an hour”.

The descent down was not a natural formation. I couldn’t find anything written on it (I didn’t look very hard either), but it clearly was carved out of the cliff, maybe taking advantage of some natural structure. It was about 5-6′ wide, had a reasonable grade to it, and was actually paved with cement in many places. The underlying stone, seemed like it would be slippery-when-wet, and so I think the cement was more for of a safety improvement, than it was an erosion control element. Not really just slippery when wet, but also slippery when sandy, and remember what I said about Zion and sand. It was everywhere.

There is almost no part of the descent that isn’t just plain jaw dropping gorgeous. Even in those parts where you descend back into the depths of a side canyon, the rock and the glow of light on the rock above you is awesome. It took 5 or 6 switchbacks to get down to the next level, which was the shelf that lay below us for the past two days. Emerging out into the sun on this shelf of limestone offered up new perspectives for some images. It is just like hiking down into the Grand Canyon. The same formations look different enough from different depths, and that was true all along this hike.

The descent was not particularly hard, but I do believe that all four us, with our own eyes, saw different opportunities for image capture, and so we weren’t always together, so just like everywhere else on this trek, whoever was at the front stopped until everyone was together again. This allowed me a unique opportunity to get “2 for 1”. Doing these composite Panoramas, I can vary one of the shots and get two different images. In that manner I have the same panorama, but one with Jim, and one with Jed.

I hadn’t heard from Steve in a while, but was still expecting to run into him soon. It seemed like every turn I went around, or every hump I went over, I expected to see him. Only the other people who were in various stages of “How much further should I go?”. The vast majority of people hike to Scout’s Landing, whether they have a permit or not to actually get onto Angel’s Landing. Many are done by that point, but if they just put a little more effort in, they can make the next shelf, where there is an expansive vista and they can contemplate “Should I keep going?”. If I am talking about you, as you read this, then let me say this now. “Keep Going”. Of course, assuming you have sufficient water, food, and clothing/shoes, keep going by all means. You will not be dissapointed. I think the issue that Steve had was that there is a difference between going up versus coming down. On the way up there are more than a few opportunities for you to “not see everyone” while they are going down. Far more than when you are descending from up top. There was no way for Steve to slip past by accident, whereas once the notion of “Did I miss them?” got planted into his head, that is one of those doubts that just doesn’t let go. With no service, he had no way to check, and so we kept coming down, but never did we run into him.

After 2 hours of descending, we finally reached the last big shelf before the drop to Scout’s Lookout. It’s a giant shelf of Limestone, and provides the first views down into the inner canyon where you can see the road snaking along the river, and the Zion shuttle buses making their runs. Paul was the last one to join us before we pushed on to Scout’s. At this point, this where the casual tourist reaches their limit. One bottle of water, not really the right gear to go higher, but just enough curiosity to go a little higher. I believe that from Scouts, you can see people above, as well as the traffic on the switchbacks, and think “I can get there”, and so, many do. We had all of those people now competing for the real estate of the path, the path being sometimes wide enough for us both and sometimes, a little bottleneck-like. No one got injured, and soon we were at Scout’s and still there was no Steve. I even shouted on the last switchback “Steve!”, to which any other Steve’s out there at that time probably thought “Who the fuck is that?” (Remember what I look like).

No Steve. I did however find the Rangers at the access point to Angel’s Landing, and they confirmed that my backcountry permit did NOT provide me access to Angel’s Landing, and so no one had to climb up that bit o rock with the other tourists. I retreated back to the general area of Scout’s Lookout, where we found some shade, and drank some water while I was able to get a message off to Steve that we had reached the lookout far later than expected, and were on our way down. The plan being to hike to the Lodge, get a beer, and then catch the shuttle back to the Visitor Center. The message got out, but when it got delivered, I cannot say, and there was nothing from Steve that came in.

With our packs hoisted back upon our backs we dove into Walter’s Wiggle, the last part of the climb to Scout’s Lookout is 10-12 closely engineered steep paved switchbacks that descend off Scout’s Landing very quickly, with water drainage that is just as well engineered as the switchbacks themselves. A flash storm up there could wreak havoc on the trail had the drainage not been well thought out. Soon we were off the main part of the wiggle, and working our way back into a section called “The Refrigerator” because it gets so little sunlight back there, that snow drifts last well into the summer, keeping it quite chill back there. It was while we were hiking out of this section, when who should catch up to us, but the Canadian, Jessica, who slowed down, or we sped up and stuck with us the rest of the way down to The Grotto. She was on holiday, who isn’t when you are at Zion, and getting some hikes in before moving onto another location. She works in the banking industry, there in Canada, and she and Paul chatted that kind of stuff as the elevation dropped. Once we got down to the level of the river, she bid us farewell, and went to dip her toes into the Virgin River, we to the shuttle stop where Paul and Jim elected “Shuttle”, and Jed and I elected “Walk” and we all met at the Lodge. It was only a half mile more.

Unlike Lake Louise, there was an outdoor bar that was happy to serve us a beer, and fortunately they had a nice selection as well. While we were drinking ours, we were sitting near two Grandparents who had their grandson with them, and we chatted each other up, they trying to form some memorable bonds with their grandson, we reflecting upon our last week in the wilderness.

Done with our beers, we bade goodbye, and hopped on the next Shuttle south. You must keep in mind, that none of us had showered in more than a week. We didn’t get seats, so we had to stand, arms raised to hold on the straps, or bars to maintain balance. I felt sorry for all those tourists, so I spoke up, announcing that if their noses are sensing anything, it is probably us, and the ride should be short, and our apologies for any spasmatic twitching of their noses, or watering of their eyes. A few had expressed interest in what we had been up to get so stinky, and happy to share our experiences, we filled them in with some of the details. The term “backpacking” is a foreign term to many people. The concept of carrying everything on your back for a week, with no running water, or toilet is even more foreign.

Reaching the visitor center we finally united with Steve, who was awaiting our arrival. Apologies were made, the need for food sustenance verified, and we set off for the parking area, agreeing to give the Trading Post in the town of Virgin a go, as I had sold their menu to everyone. It may have been called Buffalo Trails Trading Co, and when we finally found it, we found it hadn’t opened yet, and wouldn’t until 5PM. We weren’t waiting that long, and we certainly weren’t driving back to Springdale, so on and into Hurricane, Utah we drove where we found the Cross Country Diner. No, there wasn’t any beer, but the food was awesome. Paul picked up the bill for everyone, and that was the moment when we split up. With Paul and Steve that is. Paul arrived late, and decided to spend a couple of extra days hiking with Steve, and the rest of us drove back to Vegas where Mike was awaiting us. The next 24 hours convinced me that I should have diverged from what I did with Walt back in 2011, where it was his plan that we all spend the night in Vegas, and catch our flights out the next day. That worked for that crew, but I wasn’t back in Vegas for 5 minutes before I realized that we just should have gotten a hotel in Springdale, and spent the night there, driving back the next day to get Jim “To the church on time” for his flight at 1. After a week in the Zion Wilderness, I cannot think of an environment so toxic, and so other-end-of-the-spectrum than 1 night in Vegas. Especially on The Strip. There is no redeemable quality of life going on there. That was indeed a mistake, and I won’t dwell on it here.

The next day we say Jim in the morning before he caught a cab to the airport, and the rest of us checked out at 11, grabbed the car, and went on tour. We gave Red Rocks a go, but that is now reservation only, and we had none, so while it was a nice drive out there, we had to keep on going. We did stop in a small mining town, got some ice cream, and then decided to go to Hoover Dam. We were on the Red Eye, we still had some gas left, and a lot of time, so off to Hoover we went, all the while I was monitoring our gas level. I was told to “Bring the car back empty” and was reluctant to pump more gas into the tank, so I nursed it going over there, noticing that we had a wee bit of climbing to do get the car out of Hoover when we finished. We did a self-guided tour and walked across the dam to Arizona and back to see the overflow spillways that have only been used twice in history, once as a test in the 40’s, and the second time in 1983 where there were fears that the dam might fail. It was touch and go, and talked about in the book The Emerald Mile. A good read indeed.

Anyway, we decided it was time and we drove back to the airport, my eye watching the “miles to empty tank” go from 40 to 35 to 30 and finally down to 25 before we were done with the climbing, and we still had about 10 miles to go. I babied it all the way there and when I dropped the car off there were less than 15 miles to an empty tank. That is empty in my book.

Car returned, we were transported back to the Airport where we tried to get our luggage tags, and after a couple of tries, the option to print my tags never appeared. Jed had the same problem, but Mike dragged his bag over with a tag clearly visible, so we got in line to figure out the issue, when a representative queried our reason for assistance. I explained we didn’t get the icon to print our luggage tickets, and after asking our flight time, were informed that that icon won’t appear until 7:15. It was 6:50pm. I asked “How did my friend get a ticket if he is on the same flight?” to which she retorted (and she did retort) “You need to find that broken machine and check in there then don’t you?”. That made perfect sense to me and that is what we tried, however, Mike could not really recall which machine he used, but I thought I knew which one I saw him standing at, and gave it a go. No deal. I then asked Mike “How did you get your luggage ticket already?” and then the truth of my assumption, you know the one I am talking about. That assume where you make an ass out of u and me? Mike says “That’s my luggage ticket from the flight out here out of Newark”. When it comes to music, Sinatra, current events, Mike is an authority, however this was not in that catagory, and it was my bad to assume he had been successful. Ha!

The end of another successful adventure in the back country of America where we once again did what we set out to do. Mike had a hard time, and I wish would could have accomodated him, but fun was had. The planning stages of a week in the Grand Canyon are coming together as I write this. Another 7 day, 6 night trip, this time targeting a large chunk of The Tonto below the South Rim. There are other irons to put in the fire as well, though an AT thru hike will be put off another year. I have also been in touch with Fritz, a Californian friend I met in California in 1981 when I rode across the country, and we are in discussions for some gravel bike camping adventures. You have to do these things while you can, and right now, I can. See you all after the next adventure.

Tagged: Backpacking, Hiking, national-parks, Nature, Travel, Utah, Zion 2024, Zion National Park