G & C Summer 2017
Blogpost 021
July 24th-26th
“Red, Rock,
Rain”
pt 2: Zion
Canyon National Park
Zion was next on our list, and
Charlotte could not have been more excited. Three years ago when she moved out
west she took a detour to Zion with her siblings and had what she referred to
as, “the best national park experience” of her life. My fiancé wished to share
this experience with me and seeing as how Zion is a mere 70 miles away from
Bryce it was a convenient addition to our schedule. At the cost of potentially
repeating myself I’ll say again that Chot, with regards to planning, is always
thinking one step ahead. Like a carpenter who specializes in stairs, not even
the most clairvoyant of contractors possess meteorological future-vision.
As
we drove down into the bowels of Zion my fiancé was vibrating with nostalgia;
telling me about how she and her siblings hiked the Narrows (which is
Charlotte’s favorite hike of all time, apparently) a hike where one’s
recommended to wear closed-toed shoes as you’re trudging through a watery
currant the whole way, and don’t want to stub a toe. This makes the Narrows a
perfect excursion for a hot summer day, except for it’s habit of flash
flooding. I believe a gang of hikers were swept up and drowned in one a day or
two after Charlotte’s experience, so it goes.
The
drive was similar to Glacier’s Journey to the Sun in that the road
taking us to our destination was paved with scenic vistas, showcasing the
enormity of the treacherous mountains of Zion. Our car was like a Tonka
truck rolling between the toes of the Rock Biter fromThe Neverending Story, with
rolling slabs of earth that could give the Empire State building a run for its
money. We were to spend two days here with each day dedicated to as many hikes
as our bodies would allow.
We
set up camp alongside the river that flowed from the Narrows. We were both
still sore from our twofer day hikes, so as soon as the tent was pitched, we
napped inside. Well, Charlotte napped while I continued reading my Vonnegut,
getting lost in the pages of time, space, and fantasy. Later on, we decided to
try and knock one hike out for the afternoon, so we hopped on the next
available bus to the Narrows (as was the only way to travel at Zion due to the
narrowness of the motorways and lack of parking), which was the last stop out
of eight.
As
soon as we were let off we noticed rainclouds hovering overhead and could see
from the flash-flood warning sign at the trail’s entrance that today’s danger
was marked at a threatening-orange, just one color away from an imminent-red.
Wet tourists from every corner of the world were vacating the trail but my
fiancé was determined to get at least the entrance to the Narrows. We reached
the section of the hike where the dirt trail leads into the river and were immediately
told to bugger off by a disgruntled park ranger trying her best to coax a
Brazilian family out of the water. Her warnings may not have been taken
seriously but a poignant crack of thunder just up ahead struck the final nail
in the coffin, sealing off the watery trail for everyone with enough sense not
to parish that day. We walked back to the bus just as the rains decided to
egress from the heavens soaking us to the bone. At this moment the rain was
actually a blessing for neither of us had showered for a number of days. The
bus released us back to our camp besides the river; which had increased
drastically in speed and volume, a flood was certainly underway. With nowhere safe
to hike we settled in for the night, listening to the sound of raindrops
plunking over our rain sheet in a gentle aqueous symphony.
The Virgin River flooding right next to camp
When
we awoke the following morning still to the sound of raindrops. We’d realized
that our vicissitude of weather-related fortune had finally turned. Zion is one
of those places in America that rarely sees any precipitation whatsoever with
it being a desert. It would seem that our visitation to the park was on one of
these days and according to the storm cycle my fiancé continued to track
throughout the day, we were scheduled for an all-day storm. Because we couldn’t
hike, we spent the remaining hours of gloomy daylight focused on productivity.
We holed up in a local café where I primarily focused on writing while my
fiancé edited and read while sipping hot coffee.
Damp Camp
Just a little flooding in our tent.
This
cycle persisted into the night until the rains finally stopped. But by that
point it was too late. All aspirations for actually seeing the national wonder
where we were had evaporated back into the stratosphere. I don’t think either
of us would say our time spent was wasted. We got a lot of work done and I even
managed to finish The Sirens of Titan, which was a blast to read and
made me realize that Alan Moore’s critically acclaimed graphic novel, Watchmen
(while still impressive and well written/illustrated) owes much of its
story to Kurt.
We
finished off our final night of Zion watching a Pixar movie off Charlotte’s
laptop, during which, I thought of a word that I’d read earlier that day that
I’d never seen before. The word was sonder, which is the realization that each
and every random living creature on earth (and beyond) is experiencing a life
just as vivid and complex as our own; complete with their own ambitions,
companions, routines, fears and inherited craziness that make for an epic story
that continues invisibly around us all with elaborate passageways to thousands
of other lives and stories you’ll never know existed. In the end we’re all the
heroes of our own stories and the background extras for countless others all
happening simultaneously. Our life’s journeys are far from over, and I know
that Charlotte and I will come back to Zion one day to see it when it’s not
raining cats and dogs.
Beautiful Rainy Zion
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