A Trip to Angel’s Landing: Take 1:
Today was the morning after the night
before…..a morning when getting up at sunrise was never really on the
cards. On went snooze and back to the
land of Zzzzzzzs went the Saroians.
A Trip to Zion National Park: Take 1
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| On the road again |
A few hours later and we were a little more
compos mentis and likely to get out of bed in a mood to do more
sight-seeing. However, given the
temperatures and the state of our physical nation, it was highly unlikely (i.e.
0% chance) that we were going to attempt the Angel’s Landing. Oh well, something to keep for the next time
we come out here.
We pulled ourselves together and drove off
to Zion, a not so long drive up the highway and one that as usual featured red
rocks J It was at least a new highway….nothing to be sniffed at.
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Zion is absolutely stunning. Fact.
It’s also very different to the other national parks in the area. Somehow it contrives to be more mountainous,
with more switchback roads, more steep inclines and more one lane bridges than
the other parks we had been to; which was weird, because I don’t honestly think
the elevations are that much different.
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| Very important message |
During the summer months, Zion closes off
parts of the park to tourist vehicles, forcing them to park up and take the
buses up to wherever they want to go. Of
course this means getting to the main junction’s parking area early morning or
late afternoon if you want to get parking.
As has already been shown, our early morning saw us parked in bed and so
we ended up pretty much out on the other side of the park, when we decided to
just sack off the whole thing. Julia
suggested a trip up to the Kolob Reservoir, a curious right turn off the
highway and through some strange communities.
Strange because on the one side (left)
there were houses and back yards that didn’t belong to millionaires and then on
the right hand side, there was a walled and gated community that looked almost
like it had just been built for Bill Gates.
On and on we drove……up and up……switchback
upon switchback, then off went the AC to save the engine a little, then up and
up some more. All the while the scenery
was jaw droppingly beautiful. Gone were
the arid and dusty vistas we had had to date.
Now we were seeing lush green vegetation, farmland where the happiest cows
in the world must have had their lunch.
As we pulled into a semi-off-road area and
parked up, we weren’t really expecting the magnificent views that the park was
putting on for us. Up here we were
high…..I mean at altitude. The sun was
beating down, which was a blessing as the lightning conductors and signs by the
side of the road left nothing to the imagination!
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| OK! |
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| Zion from the top |
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| Just in case you wanted to know |
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| the reservoir |
Seeing as we had gone so far, we elected to
go the extra mile (or 10) up to the Kolob Reservoir. Now I am not sure how it is in your part of
the world, but in London you say “shall we go to the reservoir” and I think:
Big, square pond of water, probably polluted and frankly a little
uninspiring.
The Kolob Reservoir is nothing of the sort
– it’s amazingly beautiful. Stuck up in
the hills (mountains?) in a very improbably location, we had at the time no
idea how so much water managed to come together at such an elevation (just
below 2500m). As it turns out it’s
stream and spring fed and had been dammed in the mid-50s to build the larger body
of water you see today. All in all it
creates a beautifully green oasis that apparently only the rich enjoy (we were
told this later).
The journey home followed precisely the
same route as the journey there and so aside from taking another few hundred
photos from the car windows there was not much more to report. Other than how beautiful it all was J
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| This drive was one of my favourite drives of our trip |
Tomorrow was a day of slot canyoning from
the early morning onwards up until around sunset, so we had an early night and
rested up. At this point it should be
noted that when I had booked the canyoning trip, the lady on the phone had
implied there wasn’t a hell of a lot of walking to be done. In fact not much at all.
The two gents, Nick and Gary, picked us up
at 7 and we learned a few things in short order. First up, this was to be a private tour of a
slot that only Nick’s company had staked out.
I hesitate to use the word “discovered” as I am sure people know of it,
just not how to get down into it. Nick
and friends had followed the Bighorn Sheep (great name, the horny devils!) and
found a trail down into the slot canyon that we were to hike – Fat Man’s
Misery. Another great name.
Second up, we learned that the total
walking was in the region of 10 miles.
Across rough terrain, at times slippery, at times precipitously steep
and for a long stretch we’ be wading upstream in a ….well a stream. The look I got from Julia was priceless, it
said: “I thought you said there was not much walking! You do realize I have
plantar fasciitis you idiot!”
Needless to say there was a bit of
apprehension at this point.
By the time we had driven the 45 minutes
out to our starting point, our only reference for finding ourselves again was
the place where we turned off the road next to a herd of farm bison. We were in the middle of nowhere. We kitted up and then followed a ten minute
search for the start of the trail down.
Once we were on the trail it was quickly
apparent we were not coming back up the way we came down! All or nothing, once again, from the
Saroians. The terrain wasn’t death
defying or too difficult, but in general you would have spent an AGE trying to
get back to the starting point which was a long way from civilization
anyway! So we continued and
continued. Of course I twisted my ankle
almost immediately. My “dancers ankles”
have had a field day on this round the world tour. I don’t think I have managed a single
hike/trek/activity involving my feet where I haven’t twisted my right
ankle. Useless.
As we approached the slot canyon entrance,
Julia and I had been wondering what all the fuss was about. The trip had been billed as an epic day
out. Sure we’d had some nice views, but
given the views we got from our car, I for one wasn’t sure these were worth the
effort…….that was about to change. Big
time.
You’ve seen an example of a slot canyon in
our last blog. If Antelope is a slot
canyon then Fat Man’s Misery (East Fork) is a sliver canyon. A crack canyon. The walls rose around us and this magically
coloured and textured stone closed in on us, turning this way and that as the
now dried up creek wound its serpentine way down to the main river.
There were a few clambers over rocks to get
down to the next level – I succeeded in looking like a greased elk as I was all
arms and legs and scrapes and slides…..Julia just manoeuvered down as though
she were a guide, frequently showing our guide another, perhaps easier way of
overcoming an obstacle.
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| Looking very athletic :) |
Then we began to get into the lower
sections. A quick stop for lunch in the
shade then on we went. It was getting
damper now and the water here was, well let’s just say it was
unappetizing. I believe they call it
black water. Because it’s black. And stinky.
And gunky.
One pool was unavoidable. The way down onto some stinky and sticky mud
at the bottom forced you to drop waist deep into the pool, which was a
particularly uninviting body of water.
Speaking of bodies, it wasn’t just bodies of water we were encountering,
but in this lovely sinkhole, we had the pleasure of swimming with the bodies of
dead mice….or rats….whatever. Frog
lovers would have been pleased to note that there was a baby frog and its
mother there as well….but the rest of us would have been put off by the dead
rat.
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Julia was particularly unimpressed and had
to be coaxed into the water. I just
jumped in and in true Alex style, somehow managed to bend over as I landed and
get more wet than I needed to. Such a
berk.
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| Our new friend, My Bighorn |
Getting out of here was a short abseil
(again Julia excelled, I just looked awkward) and then we were on the march again. Passing through some more pools (this time
sulfurous) left us smelling on the ripe side and we were well and truly ready
for a wash. Which was good, because we
were just about to hit the river.
As the canyon opened out, the view was awe-inspiring. I mean we had seen some beautiful sights so
far, but this was something else.
Perhaps it was because we were the only people in this little oasis of
fast flowing cold water, green shrubs and trees, flowers and shaded cool. Perhaps it was because it was so different to
the harsh red rock of the canyon beforehand.
Most probably it’s because, if I ask you to sit there and imagine a
magical canyon, deep set (150m) beneath the earth’s surface, where you look up
at red rock walls and blue sky and you look forward at a flowing stream,
greenery and inviting shade……then this is what you would see in your mind’s
eye.
Here is our video of the trip
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| God we needed this water! |
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| There is a beautiful waterfall hiding behind Alex's head |
From the pool of water we still had a
couple of hours march and the exertion was beginning to tell. All of us were tired. But strangely, as we began the almost
vertical climb up the side of the canyon, Julia and I found our second (or was
it fifth) wind and appeared to be the better off fitness wise. As we crested the canyon and began the
sloping walk over the red slick rock to the waiting cars, Julia and I marched
ahead and had flashbacks of our trip in Namibia. The ground was similar, the vegetation
similar and the feeling was one of steely determination to finish – no matter
how tired we were. Maybe our bloody-minded
stubbornness not to give in had worn our bodies’ resistance and fatigue down to
the point where we’d just keep going until we dropped. Certainly an example of will power not
fitness.
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| Nearly there |
Sitting in the car on the way home though,
no matter how strong we felt at the end of the climb, was bliss. Being driven home was even better. We both had stupid smiles on our faces as the
endorphins from our exertions and achievements pulsed through our veins.
Tonight we ate another meal with Don and Dani and shared a glass or two of
wine. Then it was time for rest and we slept
like babies, utterly content in our bed and wiped out in our bodies. Tomorrow we were leaving Kanab and our
excellent host Don. We were off towards
Snake River tomorrow. We didn’t have
anything booked between us and there, so we were going to decide on the way
where we would stop for the night. How
very un-Saroian.
