When July came this last summer, we were feeling a severe case of responsibility fever and just needed an adventure. So we packed up our camping gear and headed south to Zions' National Park. I was geeking out over the beautiful vistas and stunning landscapes and my shutter button was hot from over usage as I snapped pic after pic. We decided to begin our adventure hardcore with the five-mile hike up to Angel's Landing, setting out well into the heat of the morning. This would prove a key element in the later turn of events.
The hike up to Angel's Landing begins with a series of switchbacks, blessedly paved and sometimes shaded from the beating sun by an occasional tree. We would climb 1488 feet before reaching our destination. I ran out of water at about half that distance, several hours before our experience would be over.I should probably preface this next part with a brief explanation. I am not afraid of heights. I'm terrified of heights. In elementary school, my friends had to tie me to the teeter-totter, because I would get so scared that I would fall off. So when I first set my eyes on the last half mile of our hike to Angel's Landing, a narrow path with a sheer, 2000-foot drop on either side, I am sure you can imagine my trepidation.
In my head, I had already announced to my group of brave and daring friends that I was not going across Angel's Landing. In my head, they said, "O.K., we'll miss you," then when on their merry way. It's funny how life doesn't always turn out like it goes in my head ... When we reached the point of no return, I gallantly announced to the world that there was no way I was going across Angel's Landing and that was that. They looked at me, said, "You're going" and started across. O' well- wouldn't want to miss out on anything fun.I was at the back of the group the whole way, gripping with sweaty palms onto a huge chain, focusing my every thought on placing my foot safely into the next precarious foot hold. My good friend was kind enough to walk behind me, distracting me with a conversation that I will admit I do not remember, but for which I will always be grateful. I never looked down, though it called to me like those jelly donuts on the first day of a new diet. Yet I resisted the gnawing, irritating, overwhelming temptation to look down.
We made it. And the view was worth it ... once.
When you finally make it to the top of Angel's Landing, an amazing sight opens before your eyes. The whole length of the canyon, swathed in vibrant greens, tans, browns and reds, is truly stunning. And the altitude sickness makes the experience all the more moving.Coming down from Angel's Landing, I felt high on my triumph- I had conquered my fears (with some prodding) and scaled the heights of Angel's Landing. To prevent me from becoming too prideful, the hike of the day left me with this parting gift. The hours of toil in the burning sun, with no food and too little water, had left a companion and I with the beginning stages of heat stroke. As I tripped and stumbled my way back down Angel's Landing, beautiful stars began to appear swimming around in my vision. Together with my companion, who was worse off than I, we slumped our way back down the mountain, with a new-found appreciation for the beauty (and dangers) of nature.
