Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I had just come down from Angel's Landing, missing a few things, but otherwise intact.
Before I could go back to the hotel for some much needed rest and a hot beverage, I had to drop by Zion Adventure Company to rent some gear for the next day's excursion. I'm putting them here as a link in case any of you other intrepid adventurers need some gear when you're in the area. I highly recommend them.
I watched a short film on The Narrows, my destination for Saturday, which discussed the very real possibility of hypothermia. Protection can only go so far, and you're pretty much done if you end up submerged in the icy waters of the Virgin River. Stay upright. Got it.
The guide at ZAC gave me river shoes that were two sizes too big so we could double up on the neoprene "socks" that I'd be wearing to protect my feet. After explaining the ins and outs of how to suit up, she rang up my rental package: drysuit, shoes, neoprene socks, walking pole. Have it back before 6:00.
DAY 2
Missed Connections
After wolfing down another free breakfast, just after 7:00am, I went back to my room to get ready for the day. It was 22 degrees.
Putting the drysuit on was a little tricky. The rubber gaskets at the ankles were very tight and hard to get over my feet. As was recommended, I left the top half off and simply tied it around my waist. It would eventually go over all my layers and my jacket, once I got to the river's edge. I imagined I was going to look like a very colorful Michelin Man when all was said and done.
The only kink in the morning was that I was being forced to ride the park shuttle. Friday had been open to private vehicles, but on the weekends, guests had to ride the shuttle into the park. I checked the map and saw there were several stops right there in town.
So, into the morning air I went, hiking through the town toward Zion. It seemed to take forever, and I wasn't finding the stop. After a good 25 minutes, I happened upon a construction worker. "Do you know where the shuttle stop is?" I asked, huffing out steamy breath. "Shuttles don't run in town yet. You gotta catch it inside the park," he said. Might've been good to know ahead of time.
Once I was Jeeping down the road, minus about 45 minutes of my morning, things got back on track. I parked at the visitor's center and caught the shuttle immediately. Hardly anybody was aboard. I mean, what kind of maniac would go hiking in this cold? Especially in a river?
The shuttle, which stops at every single spot in the park, took a while to get me to my stop, which was last on the route.
The Temple of Sinawava
This last stop had a really cool name: The Temple of Sinawava. It sounded like something from Indiana Jones, and it kind of was. Eventually.
First, though, was a long and rather boring "riverwalk" trail that, while I'm sure is very beautiful in springtime, was kind of unremarkable on that day. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was just really in a hurry to get to the river. Probably. Definitely.
Finally, I arrived. The trail abruptly stopped, and there were a few stairs down to the rocky shore. Only a husband and wife were there, and they were just taking pictures.
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| Entry point into the river |
I untied my drysuit and attempted to slip it up over my shoulders. There was a gasket at the neck as well as the wrists, and they were all just as tight as the ankles. The suit was so difficult to get into (likely because of my bulky jacket) that I began to wonder if I was going to be able to get into it at all.
After much struggling (and some odd looks from the photo couple), I eventually poked my head through the opening and managed to get my shoulders planted into the suit. The heavy duty gasketed zipper that ran diagonally across the chest was also quite difficult, but I struggled until I got it.
Time to step into the river. It was 18 degrees out, and the water temp was a brisk 39.
Stepping in
I wasn't tentative with those first few steps. I figured I might as well wade right in. To my surprise, though, I felt my shoes immediately fill with water. "Uh oh," I thought. I waited for the pain or numbness in my toes, but it never came. The water wasn't shockingly cold as I had expected. It was merely cool. I figured that what I was feeling was just the temperature of the water against the neoprene, and that my skin was safely dry beneath the layers.
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| Phone selfie |
Hiking in the river was difficult. The bottom was rocky and uneven most of the time, with only a couple rare instances of a sandy bottom. Most of the time, the water was about knee deep, which was tiring to walk in. Between the depth and pushing against the current, it felt like I had weights strapped to my ankles. I was very glad for the pole, though, because without it, I would surely have fallen.
The Narrows
As I hiked on, turn by turn, hour by hour, the canyon got increasingly narrow and dark. It was really something to behold. Sadly, pictures cannot do it justice. You get no sense of how it felt, how it sounded (I purposefully didn't have headphones in) or how impressively tall those walls were. Just amazing.
In some places, the water was waist deep. I passed by others that looked to be about shoulder deep, and I steered well clear of them. I still felt very comfortable, temperature-wise. In fact, I eventually took my wool hat off and put on my ballcap, because I was sweating so much.
I did run into a man and his son at one point. They only had waders on, not full drysuits like I did. They were in good spirits, though, even though the father complained that his hands were freezing. It was only long after I left them that I realized I had some handwarmers in my backpack. Bad neighbor.
Turnaround
After passing through many beautiful bends in the river, snowy shores, giant icicles clinging to the rockface, and never a trace of sun, I finally reached my predetermined turnaround spot. I could have gone further, but I had already traversed the narrowest part of the river, and felt no need.
I took my pack off, drank what little water I had that wasn't turning to icy slush, and ate two granola bars, which were frozen solid. Sitting there, in the shade of the canyon, relatively still, I got cold for the first time.
The Return
On the way back, I could tell that fatigue was starting to get to me. My hip joints were getting tight from dragging my legs against the water, and my feet were getting a little achey from constantly stepping on uneven surfaces. I had also started to slip more when crossing swifter portions of the river, and almost fell a couple times. Each slip wore me down a little more.
I was able to quench my thirst, though, when I ran across a large ice shelf that was melting and dribbling water into the edge of the river. I held my bottle underneath the ice for a few seconds and was rewarded with clean, clear, crisp water. It did the trick and helped perk me right up.
Toward the end/start of the trail, I ran into a handful of other industrious folks just beginning their trek upstream. Other than that group, there really didn't seem to be a lot of interest in The Narrows during those chilly conditions.
Back to Civilization
Finally, I made it ashore, where there were considerably more people. A few of them gawked at me climbing out of the river like I was some kind of creature of the deep. I had less struggle getting out of my suit than I had getting in, but it still wasn't at all easy.
After catching the shuttle and making all the stops, then Jeeping back to the hotel, I was finally able to fully un-gear my body. It felt great to get unbundled, and I was shocked to find that my shoes AND the neoprene booties were full of water. My feet had indeed been wet the entire time. Amazingly, though, they were so well insulated, that it only felt moderately cool and not frostbitingly cold.
And so, I returned the gear, thanked the shop, and came back to the hotel for a nice, warm, relaxing evening.
The End
Just like that, the Zion experience was over. There was still so much more of the park to explore, but I felt very accomplished at having conquered Angel's Landing and The Narrows, both during some pretty harsh conditions.
It had been a beautiful adventure, and I knew, as I drove away the next morning, watching the first golden rays of sun play across those tall peaks, that I'd be back someday.
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