Hike #2: Zion NP

Last month some friends and I went down to Zion NP to do some hiking.  The main attraction was Angels Landing, which is a hike that should only be attempted by the following: the brave, the stupid, mountain goats.  I neglect the suicidal only because one shouldn't have to hike to one's own death when the elevator in a tall building will do just nicely.  (Fun fact: Angels Landing gets its name from the local legend that it was this very promontory upon which Lucifer and his angels landed after being cast out of heaven.  True story.)  

According to l'internet, the hike to Angels Landing is 2.5 miles long with an elevation gain of 1,500 ft.  Due to the popularity of the trail, it is paved nearly the entire way.  The paved trail stops only where the scramble over slick-rock begins with a chain as the sole guide.  From here on hikers move forward clinging desperately to the chain, goaded on by only their personal demons (or the person behind them) like so many panderers and seducers in the 8th ring of Dante's Hell.  The first bit of chain stops at a relatively flat and safe landing which serves as a refuge for those who are brave (stupid, goatish) enough to go that far, but not brave (stupid, goatish) enough to continue.  I fall into this category, and within minutes of having refused to climb further I formed the Angels Landing chapter of Acrophobics Anonymous.  I will not attempt to describe the rest of the hike to you, because I did not go.  Nor will I relate the accounts told to me by those who have actually reached the top, because they cannot be trusted.  No.  You see, no truly rational human (or goat) has ever made it to the top, and therefore, there is no truly reliable account.  

The next hike we did seemed to be popular among seniors and foreigners alike: Weeping Rock.  This isn't so much a hike as it is a 5 minute stroll up a paved path to the only cool place in all the canyon.  It is essentially a spring that seeps its ancient water out through an overhang providing a refreshing coolness that is rivalled only by the misters in the produce section of your local grocery.  There wasn't much to see here, so we moved on.

Our final hike was to Hidden Canyon.  This very steep 2.2 mile roundtrip hike is enough to make even the whitest of persons ask himself: "What's so great about hiking again?"  

Most of the trail is a seemingly interminable series of switchbacks that have the mystical property of always facing the sun.  Our old friend, the chain, reappears toward the end of the trail to aid you as you pass 50 teenage girls on a narrow ledge.  The trail ends at a dry creekbed.  That's it.  Seriously.  The word on the street is that you can continue along the creekbed until you reach a sandstone arch, but they've got a different national park full of those.  

Sic transit my trip to Zion.