Grand Canyon and Zion: Day 3

Day 3:

I woke up at 8 or so on our third day of the trip, and decided to go down to the visitor’s center and figure out the weather situation. On the top of my “to-do” list for Zion was “hike the Narrows”. In the park, there are many narrow slot canyons that have been shaped by the Virgin River. When the river is low during the dry season, you can hike inside these canyons through the water and see some of the most beautiful and unusual sights in the park. However, the Narrows are very susceptible to flash flooding. Typically, you can’t enter at all until July hits. Because it has been such a dry spring out west (4^th driest in recorded history) I had my hopes up about being able to do this hike in May. But – thunderstorms were predicted for the two days we were in Zion.

So I asked a ranger.

The rangers are very careful about not telling you what to do. It took me five minutes to get this ranger to say, “Well, if it were me? I wouldn't go.” So that settled it. I returned to our cabin disappointed, but ready #2 on the list: Angel’s landing.

Dan was awake when I got back, and we headed over to the Red Rock Dining Room for breakfast. We could order something off the menu, or go for the breakfast buffet for $11. Naturally Dan went for the buffet, but I decided to just have pancakes instead.

Dan: Why would you not get the buffet?

Me: I only want pancakes. They are $6… the buffet is $11, you should be thanking me.

Later on…

Me: will you get me some fruit?

Dan: Absolutely not. You did not pick the buffet, so you can’t have anything from the buffet. I don’t want to get kicked out of Zion.

After he got me some fruit…

Dan: Do you want my bacon?

Me: Aren't you afraid of getting booted?

Dan: These guys don’t scare me.

Spoiler alert: the bacon was so delicious; I got the buffet the next morning just so I could have an unlimited amount of it.

After breakfast we loaded up our Camelbaks (which technically, are hydration packs we don’t have the brand Camelbak) and prepared for the hike up Angel’s landing. I was delighted to find that carrying the water this way was much lighter than carrying a few big bottles in the side of my camera gear bag. Like 20 pounds lighter.

I had read about Angel’s Landing in a bunch of different places while I was working on the itinerary. It sounded like a great time and a fun challenge. “Sure, I can hike that” I thought to myself, “I’m not scared of heights.” But fear started creeping in when Tom Egan told me that 4 boy scouts had died hiking it a few years ago. 

“One lost his footing and took the other 3 down with him. It’s very dangerous, you have to be careful!”

If there is one thing I don’t trust, its other people. My mother-in-law did not really like the sound of Tommy’s tale, and issued similar caution warnings. I refused to let her know which day we would be hiking for fear that she wouldn't be able to eat or sleep until we got back down safely (which was 3 days after the conversation took place).

So as we rode the bus towards the start of the trail-head  I told Dan “make sure I finish.” When he asked what I meant by that I said, “If I get scared and don’t want to go all the way to the top, make me.” He sighed and groaned and asked (once again) why I always make us do these terrible things on our vacations. My responsible was pretty simple.

“Because it’s there and because we can.”

As we began our ascent we decided to let a pack of boy scouts run up ahead of us and tucker themselves out early on… we definitely did not want to be anywhere near them as we approached the tricky part of the trails between Scout’s landing and the Summit.

For about 2 miles the trail is like any other steep mountain trail; plenty of switchbacks keep you breathing hard, but the comfort of a wider trail will keep you moving forward. Additionally, the higher you get, the better the view gets, so the incentive to continue is there. We pressed onward and upward resting every now and then in the shade, eventually passing the boy scouts. I was somewhat concerned when we passed parents hiking with toddlers on their backs, but I am pretty certain they did not intend to climb to the summit (at least I don’t think they ever did, because I didn't pass them again coming down).

my photo of the wiggles

someone named "Tanya"'s wiggle photo

When we got to Walter’s Wiggles, I explained to Dan (in between labored breaths) that the CCC created the infamous switchbacks in the 1930’s. Dan said he hated Walter, he hated the CCC and he hated switchbacks. I took this opportunity to make fun of him for being so out of shape. The truth was, when we stopped for his lungs, I was grateful to rest my legs.

Once we completed the wiggles, we stopped at Scout’s Landing to gain our thoughts before the truly perilous part of the trail would demand our undivided attention.  My watch was telling us that we had only been about 1.75 miles, which I figured was wrong because we had lost the satellite so many times – Scout’s Landing was at 2 miles.

see the people climbing? The pine above the green shirts is Scout's Landing

Looks like the top ahead, but it's only Scout's Landing

awesome trail, no?

At this point the trail turned into a rock-climbing adventure more than a hike, with chains serving the dual purpose of trail marker and life saver. Step by step, gripping the chain we continued our trek to a point that we were pretty sure was “the top”.

Only, once you got to “the top” you realized it wasn't, and that thiswas the real Scout’s landing precisely as described at the 2 mile mark. And this is where I panicked.

Dan = calm... Me = PANIC!!!

This is what you see at Scout's Landing... this is why I panicked.

Under the shade of a single pine, I began to hyperventilate at the thought of continuing up the sheer spine with nothing to separate me and the valley 1,200 feet below but a narrow trail no bigger than a foot wide in some places, surrounded by other people trying to get up and down – my fate resting in their hands.

No, I’m not scared of heights; I have no problem being up high on steady footing. What I am scared of is falling to my death off the side of a mountain because my foot slipped, or the person in front of me slipped. Even scarier at this point, was the thought of seeing someone else fall off the trail to theirdeath.  I felt my eyes begin to water as Dan asked “are you alright?”

Let’s face it, Dan and I can be tough on each other. The term “hard-ass” comes to mind, but I got the vibe that if he knew that I was flipping out, he wouldn't have pushed me to finish. So I took a deep breath (literally) and forced myself to calm down so we could keep going.

my scary pictures

Joe Braun's scary photo 1

Joe Braun's scary photo 2

I moved really slowly, placing every foot carefully down and confirming its steady grip before I lifted my other foot off the mountain. People behind me were probably pissed. In fact, one kid tried to pass me, but Dan wouldn’t stand for it, he told him that no one passes anyone else from this point on.  At some points on the trail, the rocks were so much higher than your footing, you had to pull yourself up the chains to get to the next step. In many spots, we had to stop and wait for other people to come down before we could go up. It was busy for such a treacherous hike, but nothing compared to some of the other places in Zion. For the most part, people were courteous and cautious – letting people come down before trying to go up, allowing enough space between each other, and waiting patiently as some of us moved slower than others. The only person pushing my pace was Dan, who wanted to get to the top before anyone else tried to pass me.

Finally, we made it.

The view was unparalleled, and the air was thick with the sense of accomplishment. People ate lunch 1,500 feet above the river and valley below, and willingly snapped photos for others.  The wind helped cool us after nerves and hard work attributed to a good deal of perspiration.  

Dan did not want to stay at the top for lunch, he was very adamant about resting only in the shade. So just as soon as we got up, we started back down.

At first, I was very nervous about going down because I could see the depths below. At least on the hike up, you kept looking onward and upward. Surprisingly though, the hike down was relatively easy. We rested a few times, but I found that my legs weren't shaking from fear (and exhaustion) so we continued down quickly. Back down at Walter’s Wiggles I tried to stop and rest, but Dan encouraged me to get down quickly so that we might still have time to at least see the Narrows (since it hadn't rained). But wouldn't you know it? As soon as we got back on the bus, the clouds rolled in.

As we rode back to the cabins, Dan asked how much water I had left.

“A ton! This stupid thing is broken or something, it’s impossible to drink out of!” I answered. At which point he showed me that I was using it completely wrong. I got a few laughs out of the couple behind us when I said, “wish I had known that 5 miles ago!”

Back at the room, Dan suggested we pursue other hikes, perhaps the one I wanted to do tomorrow. Oh Dan, what a desperate cry for a more relaxing vacation. So I indulged him and we hiked the 3 Emerald Pools, which were pretty dried up and hardly worth the hike. Especially because we ended up behind a bunch of really slow-moving hikers, one in particular was so awful that I had to take his picture.

slowest hiker ever.

lower Emerald "pool"

feet in the Virgin River (it was COLD)

cairns in Zion

Upper Emerald Pool

Me on a giant rock

Dan on an even bigger rock

wildlife

Dan getting some perspective

Middle Emerald Trickle... excuse me, "pool"

Beautiful Zion

Virgin River

more of gorgeous Zion

Virgin River

Simply amazing

By the time we returned to our cabin, we were starving. Fortunately I had arranged for a 6:00 dinner at the Red Rock, wondering if maybe that was too early… not even close.

I ordered twin petite filets (3 oz each) with mashed potatoes and a salad. When the salad came, I asked Dan if he thought I would eat my entire dinner. He said he would be “absolutely shocked” if I ate half of it. Our entrees were delivered when he had run to the bathroom, as he returned I was eating my last bite of filet. Call him “absolutely shocked” as I announced the impressive Sanborn declaration that I was in the “clean-plate club”.

Dinner was delicious – another far cry from the meals we had on our Grand Tetons and Yellowstone trip. But again, we paid top dollar in Zion, where alternatives didn't exist. The three meals we had at the Red Rock (2 days of breakfast, 1 dinner) cost us nearly $115.

The night ended with us both on our laptops, Dan doing homework and me uploading the photos from our hike to Facebook.

Zion Lodge

Our cabin

Grand Canyon and Zion: Day 2

Day 2

I've learned on these vacations that it doesn't do a whole lot of good to set an alarm and try to wake up early and get Dan moving in the morning. Similarly, he has learned that if its 10:00 p.m. – I’m probably already asleep. Anyway, we woke up around 8:30 or so and just sat in bed for a while. Separate beds.

No seriously, when you get 2 full size beds, it’s much better to have your own.

After a while we decided to get moving and went to the Arizona room at the Bright Angel Lodge for breakfast. I don’t know if this is just because it was a sit-down breakfast or because it was Grand Canyon, but the options were far better than those at Yellowstone.  We both ordered the bright angel breakfast, the only difference being mine was healthy:  I had fruit, egg whites and turkey sausage. Dan didn't bother with fruit, had his eggs over medium and had a side of bacon to wash it down. To be fair, he did share a piece of the bacon with me.

Following breakfast we decided that I would go get the car (which involved a shuttle ride) while Dan packed up our bags. I don’t think anyone would be surprised to hear that the bags were not packed when I got back with the car. 

“I didn't really make any progress with the packing” he announced, as if I couldn't tell. “I didn't know we were going to go on a hike today, so I had to empty out my backpack and find the bladder to go in it and then re-pack everything that was in my backpack into another bag."

We did manage to squeeze a lot of stuff into 3 bags.

After our luggage was loaded back into the car and we checked out, we headed towards the Bright Angel Trail to do a “moderate” hike. I might have even said it was going to be “fairly easy”. If you've ever hiked down into a canyon and then hiked back out, you know that there is no such thing as “easy”.

On the way down we passed a bunch of people who had obviously hiked from the bottom that morning. Some had probably hiked rim to rim (a 24 mile journey that is usually done in 3 or 4 days). They looked pretty beat. Silently, I was grateful that we were not able to get lodging at Phantom ranch to do this rim to rim hike… it probably would have been terrible. I did not admit this to Dan.

We didn't stop on the way down, though it was a little demanding to be hiking down so fast. At the mile and a half rest house (one of the few stops with water) we had been gone 45 minutes. I was absolutely shocked at the number of people hiking down who were completely unprepared. Many did not have a single water bottle, wore flip flops and displayed other pieces of evidence stacking up in favor of their being dubbed “morons” in my opinion. I don’t know how the parks and rangers could go to any more trouble to state how important it is to be prepared when hiking down.

And year after year, people get down into the canyon by foot, and then ride a helicopter out. Dan asked me why we couldn't just get “cop-tered out”, and suggested how much faster it would be. He decided that it was probably way more expensive than just turning around and hiking back out, so that’s what we did.

Admittedly, it was tougher than I expected it to be for such a short hike. What took us 45 minutes to hike down demanded an hour and fifteen to hike back out.  At each of the stops we took to rest on the way back, Dan asked why I always plan these exhausting vacations. Surprisingly, “because it’s fun” did not satisfy him. He continued to badger me about drinking enough water until we made it back out and got in the car to drive to Zion in our sweaty clothes.

We stopped at several look-outs all along the east bound road that would take us out – the last stop inside the park was at the Desert Watch Tower. This provided a gorgeous view of the canyon laid out before us. If we had more time, I would have insisted upon another hike down inside it for better views. We also picked up a map at the gift shop here, since we had only been gone for 20 minutes before losing any connection to our phone-powered GPS.

Fortunately (or rather, unfortunately) we learned that the easiest and most direct route to Zion was no longer an option, due to a landslide that had badly damaged portions of route 89 towards Page, AZ. This resulted in an additional hour or so of driving… quite the fun time. As we drove, Dan gave me the history of the Grand Canyon, which, if you didn't know, goes like this; the Indians dug it out and put all the sand and rocks in the surrounding areas to create mountains. I have photos to prove this may be true.

excavated Grand Canyon sand?

The driving continued for hours as we began to notice a trend for this trip… that of sitting in the car. We only got pulled over once – in Utah – and the officer was kind enough to let us go with a verbal warning. Dan claims it was because he wasn't really speeding, but I am less certain.

Some other things we learned during the drive:

1      I don’t know left from right – in fact, I frequently give the opposite direction.

“Turn left.”

“Do you mean right?”

“You know what I mean!”

2     I’m losing my sharp-shooter vision.

“Cows on the left.”

“Do you mean right?”

“No, I meant left, look!”

“Those are rocks Mandy”

What seemed like days later, we finally arrived at the entrance to Zion National Park and noticed that Utah was in another time zone, even though we were technically further west than we had been before.

From the very first glimpse, Zion is the absolute most impressive display of nature I have ever seen. We drove in through the rarely used east entrance, and stopped often to take pictures. I kept reminding Dan to drive and look at the road, since there were many inconvenient places to crash (like down the side of a cliff). 

Right before entering the main canyon, you must drive through a long dark tunnel that has a few “windows” out. Through these windows, you can see almost nothing but sheer rock cliffs in the most beautiful shades of orange, red and white. There is one look-out area where you can get a very quick glimpse of the magnitude of these mountains, but you can’t stop inside the tunnel.

This is all very dramatic, by the way. It’s like being blindfolded before you lay your eyes on the most impressive and beautiful things that time has been at work on. And when we finally got out of the tunnel, I’m pretty sure I gasped. Around every turn, the view just kept getting more amazing and more picturesque.

Until we saw the sign that said “red parking pass required”.

We had received our pass in the mail during our frantic house-packing phase in late April. I remember taking the pass up into the attic and putting it into the front pocket of Dan’s suit bag. “I know we will take the suit bag, so this is where it will stay” I told myself.

Only, it wasn't in there.

So Dan lectured me on the importance of keeping track of things and blah, blah, blah, while I hoped that it wouldn't be a problem. “How can it be a problem? There is no way all of these people remember to bring the pass that they get mailed like a month in advance” I thought – while I also decided to make up a story about my luggage being lost.

During check-in, I sheepishly told the front desk worker that I didn't have my pass. “Oh, that’ not a problem” she reassured me, while handing me another.

Dan and I couldn't figure out why they would bother to mail anyone a parking pass ahead of time. Who the hell would remember to pack that sort of thing? As we discussed this, we found our cabin and unloaded all of our things. Dan pointed out that there was no television in this room. There was a gas fireplace, however – and perhaps more importantly, an AC. Utah is hot people, even at 5,000 feet.

We continued to get settled in the room and were more than ready to call it a day after the long hike and even longer drive.

*Update: Upon returning home, we found the red pass on my dresser. Dan concluded that since it was on my dresser, I must have put it there. My response was to ask him which situation was more likely: that I took the time and care to bring the pass from the old house to the new house and then plopped it on my dresser; or that he took it out of the front pocket of his suit bag the night we were packing. Since he did not argue with me over this point, we can only assume that the latter of the two situations is correct. 

Grand Canyon and Zion: Day 1

Day 1: Sunday, May 26, 2013

After 3 days of poolside lounging and late night boozing, we packed up on Sunday and left Phoenix bound for higher elevation and much cooler temperatures (thank God). Stephen and Nicole’s wedding was a beautiful and highly entertaining event – check youtube for the best father-daughter dance ever… if theirs doesn't come up, someone is doing something horribly wrong.

Most of the day was spent driving up to the Grand Canyon, an adventure that was largely uneventful. Hungry Mandy made an appearance, but Angry Dan didn't bother to show up much. In his place was a new character – highly intent on rushing us around for no apparent reason. This side of Dan is certainly one that I have not seen before. Usually traveling slow is high on his priority list, and I don’t think he has rushed for anything in the past 10 years, except during a flag football game or two.

Point is: nothing really happened; the drive was long and boring.               

Arriving at the visitor’s center, I discovered that nearly everyone in the entire world had the same inkling to visit the Grand Canyon that I had. Oh yeah, and the visitor’s center closed at 5:00 p.m.

We found our way to the Kachina Lodge and brought our piles of luggage and food into the room and then spent the next 30 minutes trying to find a place to park. The rooms at the lodge must have been recently renovated – they look nothing like what Xanterra has posted online, which was a nice surprise.

After finding a parking spot 3 lodges away, we ate a quick dinner of questionable pizza and hurried back to get my camera and get out to Hopi Point by sunset. It is one of the best spots on the South Rim to watch the sun set over the Canyon because it juts out from the rest of the rim, providing a nice look westward. Apparently, this is not a secret – so we had plenty of friends to share the experience with. Actually, we almost missed it because the buses that take you out there get completely and totally packed with other last-minute people like us trying to be in the right place at the right time.

Unfortunately, I’m not that great of a photographer so my photos just can’t do the view any justice at all. And the whole thing happens so fast that you can’t figure out the necessary adjustments in time. Before you know it, you’re standing on the rim of the biggest wind tunnel in the world wondering how the hell it got so cold so fast in the middle of the desert. Luckily our bus driver on the way out gave us a little tip about the pick-up spot being in a different place for the return trip, so we were able to get on the second bus back.

I have been to some of the biggest, most popular cities in the world. Places like NYC, Paris, London, Rome, Barcelona. But it took a bus ride in the Grand Canyon to really get a glimpse of diversity. I have never seen so many different nationalities represented in such a tiny space. In fact, I’m fairly certain that Dan and I were the only Americans on the bus – no kidding! I didn't realize what a mecca that Canyon was for international tourists.

There were so many people everywhere that I’m pretty sure the NPS could double its budget if they raised the Park entrance fee by $10 per vehicle.

A rather uneventful first day to be sure. The hiking begins tomorrow, followed by another long drive up to Zion National Park in Utah.  

Typing with primed fingers

Hello friends!

Have you missed me? My vacation was great, thanks for asking. I'll be posting about it later today over at The Ambitious Traveler... yes, I promise to one day combine all of my blogs into one (maybe).

Today I am typing to you with primer still on my fingers, as it is the most impossible paint to remove from your hair or body. I've spent a ridiculous amount of time in my living room lately, preparing for (and then finally) painting. Let me give you the run down.

First and foremost, it was important to vacuum the walls and ceilings. The reason it is so important is because  I don't like to find paint fossils once I have finished. No, globbed up green spiders are not really my style. Following this step, I removed all of the screws, switch plates, 1990's country curtains and little window inserts that make it look like the windows have 6 panes instead of 1. Then, I removed the mold and mildew on the walls.

Now, that sounds like a ridiculous and simple task for a home that is barely 15 years old. To prove to you that it wasn't, I took this lovely, high-quality photo with my phone.

As you can guess, the top part has been cleaned, the bottom has not. Yuck.

After all of this, I patched the holes in the woodwork where the curtains had been hung, and patched the holes in the walls. There were many, of every variety.

This process took about 9 hours. Not kidding, 9 hours of prep!

Finally, (after another coat of compound on the wall holes) I was ready to prime. If you have not learned the importance of priming, let me stress it to you: PRIMING IS IMPORTANT. If you do not prime, you risk any number of things such as; the paint not ending up the right shade, the old paint bleeding through (especially true when you paint over a dark color), stains bleeding through, or, the paint not really attaching itself to the surface. If you are going to spend the time painting, do it right and prime first.

Yes, I learned all of that the hard way.

So I spent 6 hours on Saturday priming. This is how it looked:

No joke, that's all I got done in 6 hours (plus the trim on the floor, which you can't see). I was flabbergasted.  And I realized that this is going to take FOREVER.

So here we are, nearly 9 hours worth of painting later, and I have finally finished the first coat on all of the trim, the patches, and the "cutting in". As far as I can tell, I will probably need to do one more coat of primer, and then I can start actually painting. I'm hoping that when it comes time to add the color, only one coat will do the trick.

Here's another reason to prime, btw: Kilz is way, way cheaper by the gallon than Benjamin Moore. Sure, I could probably be OK with 1 coat of primer and 2 coats of "linen white" on the trim, and "iceberg" on the walls, but the difference is nearly $100. Possibly more since there are a ridiculous amount of windows and doors in this room.

Anyway, I just wanted to give you a little update and let you know that work has commenced at the new place, even if it sucks big time!