We drove to Springdale and parked along
the main street. There's a shuttle to take you to the front entrance
of Zion, and then there's a shuttle system to take you through the
park. It's weird, like Disneyworld or maybe the Zoo. The park ranger
out front asking for those with passes to go to the left might as
well have been holding a camera and handing out slips of paper for us
to check our photos at the visitor center after 3 pm.
We got right on the shuttle and went to
the human history museum. It was not crowded; we watched a movie
overview of the park. Then we caught the shuttle and went to the
Lodge stop, where we went on a hike to the Emerald Pools.
A note about hiking. Brooklyn and I are
hikers. London is becoming one. Bixby is good, too, not as many miles
on his boots. And Niles is young. It makes for a hard time deciding
what hikes to take. Go too hard and Niles wears out. Go too easy and
Brooklyn and I wind up bored at the end of the trail. The rangers the
night before said that Zion essentially had easy hikes (paved
walkways) and strenuous hikes (5 and a half miles straight up a
mountain holding onto a chain). There weren't many in the middle. He
suggested the Emerald Pools-the first pool is easy, the other two are
strenuous.
Not really. They weren't bad, I mean,
for someone who pushed past her limits in the Smokies a month ago.
And the lower pool trail? Holy shit. It
was jam packed with tourists in flip flops pushing strollers with
crying babies, eating powerbars and telling Grandma to hurry up. If
Brooklyn had had the means to make a rudimentary shiv...
The crowd thinned out after the first
pool, leaving just tanned blond dads dragging toddlers behind them
and their fitness conscious wives complaining that all they'd had to
eat so far that day was a powerbar and he was a marine, but she
wasn't, etc. One mom had a fight with her 8 year old son about
whether he should wear his hat...it was one of the most passive
aggressive arguments I'd ever witnessed, and remember, I teach middle
school. Another mom stomped her foot and started pushing past people
to get down and away from her children. It was classic.
The third pool had the fewest hikers,
of course, but still far too many tourists (I say this as a tourist
of course, but one who came to hike, not one who came for, I don't
know why else you would come to National Parks, in general). Lots of
people trying to feed a squirrel. My prayers for a vicious bite went
unanswered.
On the way down, after the little spur
trail to the pool, we noticed the Kayenta Trail broke off to the
left. Talk about the road less traveled. We took it high above the
canyon, descending quickly at the end to a bridge that crossed the
Virgin River and on to the next bus stop—the advantage to having a
park bus system is it is possible to thru-hike from one place to the
next. That hike? That was perfect.
We went down to the last stop, where
the Narrows begin. The hike I didn't take. We got there and I wanted
to at least walk down along the river and take a look at the canyon
as it started to get tight.
And instead, about a quarter mile in,
it started to thunder.
We made the right choice. We turned
around and caught a bus back to junior ranger swearing in and the bus
back to our truck. On the way back, the bus driver announced that
NOAA had declared another flash flood warning and the park service
was closing all the slot canyons and the Narrows.
We would have still been on the other
side of that closure at 2:30 in the afternoon. On a hike that is only
in the water at some points.
The town of Springdale was still partly
cloudy when we got back to the truck, which I had strategically
parked in front of an ice cream place.
Back at the camper by 4:00 or so, kids
swam for 15 minutes before the rain hit. I caught up on the outside
world. Bixby started dinner and I started gathering up laundry for
later.
Tomorrow I leave Utah behind and head
to the Grand Canyon. I've been there before, when I was 12. For about
10 minutes. My father was terrified of it.
Brooklyn is tired of crowds. “Great,
the Grand Canyon,” she said sarcastically when we discussed the
upcoming few days.
“North Rim, hoping it won't be
overpowering,” I reassured her. I really am hoping it won't be so
bad. I plan to be...a tourist...at the Grand Canyon. Where are my
flip flops and powerbars?
This stuff is totally frightening. I cannot believe the sandals and flip flops I see at national parks. (And sorry I'm so far behind in my reading!)
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