March
18:
Leaving Cedar City at high noon, we
hit the highway, rolling down I-15 south towards Zion Country. I have heard legends about the mythical land
of Zion for over a decade. Travelers
have relayed their journeys through the bright dramatic canyon, encouraging me
to explore this little corner of heaven on earth, a promised land – promise of
beauty and conflict, change and uplift, humility and grace. Zion is a biblical reference to ‘place of
sanctuary, a place of rest, solitude and peace that only God’s spirit can
provide.’ Those that have ventured into
Zion from the ancestral Pueblo peoples to the Hopi, Anasazi, Navajo and Paiute,
onward to one-armed adventurer John Wesley Powell and stubborn pioneers, this
land has held the promise of life in the midst of a desert. It has lured travelers in and nurtured those
who call this place home, yet it is not a place to hold too closely…it is a dangerous
beauty – that you revere with wide-eyed wonder and humble admiration. It is a land where the beauty of the earth
meets the celestial realm in the scenery and majesty striking canyons, rock
formations, waterfalls and hidden alcoves.
It is a place where the spirit of nature and divine creation speaks in
the beauty of the land, a reminder that though we may die as dust, dust forms
the sediments of these mountains and life persists. As a person of faith with an interest in
geology, I can only see God ‘The Great Spirit’ ‘Ancient One’ in nature’s
grandeur. The science behind only backs
up my belief in a loving God…science is God’s tool for creating a world of
sanctuary – sanctuary even in the chaos of the world. As I mused in my first post, Zion encompasses
that spark, a spark of light from heaven and foundation of the grand design,
even in the conflict. Zion’s beauty
comes from patient nature and science, working its way to something ordinary –
rock to something extraordinary.
As
we approached the northern unit of Zion National Park-known as Kolob Canyons, I
breathed in deep, pondering the silent history etched in the millions of years
of sandstone. If this rock could
talk…then again it talks loudly revealing its journey and life cycle strata by
strata and the artifacts unearthed in the area, remnants of ancient peoples
that lived and traveled through Zion Country.
Now my mom and I join the list of millions who have come before and
stepped on this red rock ground.
Kolob
Canyons is located right off I-15 is surprisingly isolated. It is in the far northwestern corner of the
park. It is remote in several ways. It is cut off from the main Zion Canyon and
Mt. Carmel Road, the rugged peaks and forests only connected through winding,
rough, twisted mazes of trails. It is
remote because the topography is so steep and tortuous that it is a place best
viewed with intrepid caution – it is remote by offering a number of backcountry
trails that are quiet and lost to the crowds of the southern canyons of Zion. Kolob Canyons is well worth the forty-two mile
trip for visitors to Zion. Backcountry
Trails such as Kolob Arch winds through quaking aspen and high-altitude terrain
paired with fire bursting red sandstone cliffs that resemble another planet –
something out of a fantasy book. The
five mile road up the canyon scales the heights of the chiseled red and orange
sandstone canyon, leading to expansive and narrow vistas that tug at curiosity
and ignite a sense of wonder. My mom and
I practically had the road to ourselves.
After
spending an hour at Kolob Canyons, we drove south a few more miles on I-15
before exiting at La Verkin, near Hurricane Utah. The scenery of rocky forested mountains,
switched to the raw red hues of the southwest.
Mesas, buttes, otherworldly formations are set against the expanse of
blue cloud speckled sky. It is wide open
country, the precipice of the desert, clinging to the waters of the ambling
teal hued Virgin River.
We
entered Zion through the adorable town of Springdale Utah. This town is more than a gateway to the park,
it is a community that lives and works in the desert canyon – they farm, own
businesses, and find their breath in this land.
You can tell the passion the community has for the beauty of Zion
Country. The hotels are built in an
architecture that pairs well with the palette of the fiery desert,
complimenting the scenery…souvenir shops and restaurants line the street, while
some ranching and farming – dating back to the 1880s maintains the pioneer
spirit. I am in love with
Springdale. It is charming, eclectic, a
resort feel without the snobbery and kitsch…it is well-planned, livable,
reflecting the commitment to service and the tourist industry – as well as deep
roots in Zion.
“Welcome
to Zion” – a friendly ranger welcomed us into the park. The words ‘welcome to Zion’ giving me goose
bumps as I see the 6,000 – 10,000 feet colorful rock cliffs of the canyon.
My
mom and I checked into our campground at two o’clock…Watchman is conveniently
situated under the watchful stare of the guardian towers of sandstone
protecting this land. Watchman is right
at the entrance of the park within walking distance to the Visitor Center and
Springdale making it extremely convenient.
Since
2000, the majority of the year Zion is a car free park. Guests use shuttles to reach the scenic
viewpoints and trailheads. The shuttle
is currently out of service (until April), but is a testament to the planning
efforts and execution that park officials have adapted to accommodate the 2.75
million views to Zion while lessening the carbon impact and protecting these
features for future generations.
Our
campground = AMAZING – A-2 right under the namesake Watchman. I still think about the view and shiver –
that beautiful. I loved how convenient
it was to walk to the Visitor Center and Springdale – as well as the numerous
hiking trails steps away: Archaeology Trail, Pa’rus Trail and Watchman.
It
took forty-five minutes to get camp set up.
Grumbling stomachs, my mom and I went into Springdale for lunch at
Wildcat Willies – this western throwback has earn accolades by the LA Times and
Sunset Magazine. The grub was hearty
fare including hamburgers, steaks, and chicken and southwestern flare
cuisine. I ordered the Wyatt BBQ burger
(no bun) with hand crinkle sweet potato fries – mouthwatering and delicious.
Upon
returning to the campsite my mom and I walked around Watchman and took in the
serenity and wonder of the jagged colorful rock monuments surrounding us. As the sun descended beyond the Watchman, a
pastel fire sky slowly shifted to deep dark night.
My
mom and I drove the roughly five miles from the campground to the Zion Lodge
for dinner; we split the Rib Eye and a salad.
On
the way back from the Lodge, we saw two nocturnal ‘ghosts’ that darted across
the road into the shadows of the canyon.
We later learned that the mammal, which looks like the outline of a
large housecat is known as a ‘Ringtail Cat.’
In truth the Ringtail is not a cat at all, but related to the raccoon
family, although its pointy ears and large puffy tail lend a striking resemblance
to a cat.
From
our campsite, we stared at the stars, counting the constellations from the
North Star of the Little Dipper to Orion and Canus Major…the Milky Way veiling
the night in its luster of speckled stars…
We
burrowed into our tent just after eleven o’clock, the wind howling like a
coyote under the moon. Zion’s
temperatures change dramatically from the hot desert days to frigid
nights. Although we managed to stay warm
in our sleeping bags I woke up to the sound of my teeth chattering around 3:00
a.m., the temperature outside a ‘balmy’ 23 degrees. The morning sun will set fire to this land
soon and I wake up with the dawn.
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