The Lost World

Everyone was turning back. By everyone, I mean all of the 5 people we encountered on the entire hike. A middle aged couple, a family of three with a young teenage boy, and a younger couple.

“Should we really be attempting this?” I thought, heeding the warnings from the park rangers that had told us someone had just in the last month fallen off and died. But we pressed on, determined to conquer the trail of death. Anxious, we carefully re-shuffled our backpacks and cameras so that we both had a center of balance. One step at a time, we gripped the chains tightly and began our ascent.

My travel companion, Adam, and I had set out on our early evening hike about 2 hours earlier. 2 hours, 2.5 miles, 1500 feet, and one dry-air-and-elevation-induced bloody nose ago.

Angel’s Landing is not considered the most difficult hike in Zion National Park for length, but instead for elevation gain and the fact that the last quarter mile is not so much a trail as it is a death trap with chains.

We started our hike at 6pm to beat the 100 degree heat of the summer, figuring we could do the 5.5 mile roundtrip hike in just a few hours before we lost the daylight. I knew the time of day wasn’t ideal for photography, but I couldn’t let that take priority over our highly heat-resistant Seattle bodies. The trail wandered on in front of us, every new section bringing us higher and higher along the canyon walls providing us with better and better views.

And then there were the chains. To our right was an uneven canyon wall with the chains mounted to the rock; to the left was a 2000ft drop to the canyon floor. Just like any other ordinary day. Though this last part of the trail was only a quarter mile, it seemed as if it would never end. When we finally achieved the true top of the trail, the hardships (and switchbacks) we had endured were well worth the effort.

The view from Angel’s Landing was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. It looked as though we had stepped into the Lost World. I half expected a pterodactyl to fly overhead. I mentioned this to Adam, only to be graced moments later with him whistling the theme to Jurassic Park as I snapped some photos.

Though our time traveling was short lived and reality awaited our return, I felt the pride of accomplishment as I looked out over the Jurassic Era. I had accomplished what I set out to do, overcome my fear of the unknown, and most importantly trusted myself that I could do it.