By definition, the word “zion” means paradise. If there is a paradise on this Earth, I think it exists in Zion National Park. Tucked into the southwest corner of Utah, the park regally stands as one of the oldest national parks in America. It’s a place I have visited with my family since I was 15 years old, and it’s a place that I will never tire of visiting.
So when I was presented with an opportunity to adventure in Zion with some close friends this summer, I said “yes” and never looked back. But this time I would get to experience the park from deep within its ancient canyon walls—I was going to hike the Virgin River Narrows, a canyon carved by the Virgin River more than a million years.
I had heard stories about the narrows, read books, seen pictures, and until this summer, hiking the narrows was nothing more than a possibility. By and large, the narrows has a reputation for being one of the best hikes in the country, and I’m happy to say that I can vouch for that based off personal experience. I was lucky to have friends with the cajones to attempt something like this. We planned for months, gathering supplies and making the appropriate arrangements. We even completed a few of the local, more strenuous hikes to prepare for Zion—I’m sure we looked loony carrying 40-pound packs on Avila Ridge.
The day of our adventure began early; we had to catch a shuttle at 6 a.m. After a bumpy ride on a windy mountain road, we were dropped at the trailhead at 7:30 a.m. After a quick bathroom break and a last check of our supplies, we set out at 8 a.m.
The trail is beautiful from step one—open fields with lush, long green grass with the river winding through it. While the entire hike itself is only 16 miles, there are 4 or 5 miles leading into the narrows. Eventually, our group of five made it to the start of the canyon where the real fun begins. Much of this hike is spent wading through river water since the actual dirt trail skirts the outer edges of the canyon and is largely inconsistent.
While I was enamored with the beauty prior to the canyon, I was stunned into silence when we actually started heading into the narrows. There have been a few moments in my 28 years that have taken my breath away, and this was one of them.
The Narrows Canyon belies everything you thought you knew about hot, arid Utah. It’s its own lush oasis, an otherworldly place hiding in the southern pocket of the state. As you go deeper into the narrows, the canyon walls soar above you as high as 1,000 feet. The sandstone cliffs are dramatic and when the sunlight hits them, you can see the interplay of gold, pink, copper, and orange in the walls—a stark and magical contrast to the emerald jewel tone of the river that splits them. Trees, ferns, and river grass hug the canyon walls while large boulders dot the canyon floor as if they were placed there by artistic design. The canyon dips, turns, narrows, and widens with the river; various slot canyons invite exploration.
While the visual stimulation of the Narrows is unparalleled, the spiritual experience that occurs is one worth noting. While quiet in civilization causes discomfort and anxiety, quiet in nature is welcomed and soothing—at least for me. As we made our way deeper into the canyon, my usual brain chatter faded and I was calmed by majesty surrounding me. At any point, you can reach out and touch canyon walls that are 1 million years old, and some as high as 2,000 feet. Things like this really put into perspective my size and place in this vast universe.
Now, while I would not change anything about our experience, those who attempt the full hike of the Narrows should know what they’re in for.
For one thing, we decided to take our time going through the canyon, stopping whenever we could to take pictures, swim, and eat lunch. I advise that you do not underestimate how long it takes to hike through river water and pace yourself accordingly.
Secondly, hiking through the river will test your reserve and your sanity constantly and you must accept that. You will fall at least once, if not more, throughout the hike. Initially, we started out laughing and taking stupid videos of each other falling. As we crossed over into six hours of hiking, the falling became far less amusing and I began feeling my age.
Third, this is a strenuous 20-mile hike. The Zion National Park website classifies the hike as easy to strenuous, though I’m not sure how that works. On average it takes six to eight hours to complete the hike. I recommend that people who attempt this hike are agile, resilient, and have good cardiovascular fitness. My entire group consisted of former athletes and a former member of the military, and even we did not realize the physical toll this hike would take on our bodies.
Fourth, do not underestimate nature or the importance of maintaining safety on this hike. While it is one of the most beautiful hikes in the world, it is also very dangerous and has killed or maimed hikers. Flash floods are your biggest risk in the canyon, aside from getting trapped at night or lost.
This hike will be one of the most memorable experiences I’ve ever had. But due to our ineffective pacing, the last three hours of the hike became a race to get out of the canyon before it was dark; there was a lot of falling and cursing at this point. We ended up coming out of the canyon at 9 p.m., just in time to catch the last shuttle back to camp.
My knees were stiff as could be, and my two shins were busted from falling and nailing some rocks. I was tired beyond comprehension and my back was aching from carrying all that weight all day. But in spite of all this, my soul was at ease and I felt rejuvenated to some degree.
And we all felt like badasses at the end of the day—we, the Zion Crew, had done it. Challenge accepted and completed.
But what do I know? I’m just a Benchwarmer, always on the hunt for adventure.
Sports contributor Kristina Sewell can be reached through Managing Editor Joe Payne at jpayne@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Jul 20-27, 2017.