Looking Down On Angel’s Landing

After a camp day where heavy rain and wind made great accompaniment to reading, napping, and movies, we were charged up to climb to Zion’s highest point. While the trailhead doesn’t reveal the number of deaths on Zion’s most famous hike, the internet counts two in 2019 and 8 in the 100 year history of the park. Even though aviator Eric spent years flying around the world, he is no fan of standing on the edge of cliffs next to deep vertical drops. Truth be told, he never really liked even the 40 feet extension ladder which he sold quickly in the yard sale. Nevertheless, we made the seven mile Como ride under sunny skies and cool morning temperatures to see what all the fuss is about.

In best National Park fashion, the trail is mostly paved to accommodate the millions of hikers over the years.  It was a stark contrast to Arizona’s far less popular but perhaps equally challenging Picacho Mountain, where the trail was only wide enough for one boot.

The hike follows the Virgin River for a half mile or so before switch-backing up to a hidden mountain pass. We joined an international all ages crowd making the pilgrimage.  A few wack-jobs ran through the queue, perhaps setting some new personal best for the ascent, but most kept about the same walking pace, taking turns to stop, rest and selfie.  While the hairpin turns help, it’s still a calf, thigh, butt busting workout.

Coming out of middle earth, the trail turned sharply steep and executed 20 brutal switchbacks until arriving at Scout’s Landing, an oasis of beautiful broad swaths of sandstone and eye-popping cliff side viewing down to Big Bend on the Virgin River.  As we ate our snack, aggressive chipmunks interogated us while numerous signs that they obviously had not read warned us about big fines for approaching any wildlife. In big-ride fashion, a crowd queued up for the congo-line to Angel’s.

Iron rope over steep sloping sandstone provided a path to a ridge for summit. Middle-aged hikers on the descent slid down on their butts while teenagers on the ascent scrambled in and over their awkwardly strewn bodies.  The narrowest passages could accommodate only one person at a time, up or down, making the wait for the privilege more than 90 minutes. The vertical drops looked unreal and unfun to at least one of us, but the pain-in-the-ass factor looked unanimously lousy.

Contemplating our options, we looked in the other direction at an equally high peak and saw the speck of a hiker’s red jacket far above.  Snubbing Angel’s Landing, we picked up the Western Rim trail which leads to the wilderness of the Kolob Canyon, 20 miles to the north.  The trail ascended the peak across from Angel’s Landing until we were two miles north and looking DOWN on Angel’s Landing.  Eric really liked what they had done with the hardscape – much better than steel rope. Why had no one told us about this option?  As we took in the vista of Zion Canyon from above, we wondered why 100 times fewer people were on this trail instead of waiting and hour or more for the big name. While we can’t say we summited Zion’s most famous peak, we took the road less travelled and that made all the difference to us. We felt like we had captured all of the views with none of the panic. But, if you don’t mind crowds and are looking for a long shot of adrenaline, don’t let us stop you from putting AL on your list.

We hiked until drops of rain from the front moving in from the north began to hit us.  As the skies turned dark, the wind came up and the temperature dropped into the 40’s. We began our descent keeping a quick pace to build body heat.  Staying steps ahead of the heavy rain, we worked our way off the mountain while passing a steady stream of hikers on the ascent into the storm.  Wet, cold, and tired, we had to be a pretty good advertisement for turning around and picking a different day to make the climb, but no one did.

Once back at the Comos, they greeted us with a flat tire and wet saddles. We donned what warm gear we had and made the 7 mile ride back to camp into 20mph cold winds. Back at camp, the slow cooker navy bean soup was ready, which pairs great with 800 mg of Motrin on the side.