Day 11 — Zion National Park

The kids were such troopers yesterday, rolling out of bed and getting ready for our canyoneering expedition by 7 a.m., when they’re already pretty worn out from traveling. We had decided that today would be a day off;  we would sleep in and maybe make our back down the mountain to the national park, but only if we got bored lounging around the yurt all morning.

But it was not to be. The repair guy down in Springdale had asked us to drop the van off at his shop around 9 a.m. So once again, we dragged these exhausted kids out of bed, and by 7:30 we were making the arduous trip back down the mountain.

We retrieved the trailer at the Desert Pearl Inn, then drove another mile through town and easily found the repair shop, at the end of a long driveway — a garage in the back of a private home. Keith’s knock on the door aroused a large dog that barked sternly at him from inside, then suddenly lunged toward him through the dog door, which Keith had noticed only a half-second earlier. 

A shaggy bearded man emerged from the garage, but he didn’t seem to be expecting us. Keith explained that he had called yesterday, and, again, described the problems we’ve been having with the hitch. The guy just blinked at us, like this wasn’t ringing any bells. Then he said, “Oh. You must have talked to Bill. I think he’s still in bed.” 

Keith and I didn’t quite know what to say or do at that point, but Shaggy Beard went inside, and a minute later the shop owner, Bill — the person to whom Keith had spoken on the phone yesterday — came out and greeted us warmly, the impressions of pillow folds still pressed into the side of his face.

Blll took over from there. We gave a brief run-down — again — of the issues we’ve been having with the hitch, and he seemed confident that he could handle it. He sent us off to explore the park and told us he’d be done whenever we got back.

There’s a shuttle stop right at the end of his driveway, and we hopped on a bus that took us right to the national park visitors center, where we rounded up some Junior Ranger activity books, then got in line — with a thousand other people —  for another shuttle bus that would take us through the park.

This place is a zoo. I am stunned at the number of people here, and the number of cars, which are parked — crammed — along park roads all the way to the point where only shuttles are allowed. But I’m also really impressed with the swift and efficient shuttle system. The buses took us everywhere we wanted to go today, and, despite the volume of people using them, we never waited longer than a minute or two for a shuttle to pick us up.

By far the top attraction at Zion is the Narrows, a stretch where the Virgin River slices through an especially — you guessed it — narrow section of the Zion Canyon. Hiking the Narrows involves actually hiking in the river — hip-deep in some spots — through sections where the canyon tapers to just 30 feet across. And while the hot desert sun beats down on the tops of the mesas, the Narrows is like a lush, cool grotto. For months, I’ve been looking forward to experiencing it. So, to access the trailhead, we rode to the end of the shuttle line — with about a hundred zillion other people who had the same idea. We all walked the mile-long paved path to the start of the Narrows hike, then slogged upstream like a wave of irrepressible zombies. The actual Narrows hike, from bottom to top, is 16 miles. Most hikers go a mile or two before turning back We didn’t even make it 150 yards before we got fed up with the crowds, turned around and headed back to the visitors center.

It's like a scene from "The Walking Dead."

Somehow I managed to get a shot of the kids without 500 people in the background.

While I was disappointed that I didn’t get a true sense of the Narrows, I have been absolutely awed by the scenery here at Zion — the red cliffs towering over shady valleys and shimmering cottonwoods.

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We spotted a herd of bighorn sheep on our way out of the park.

After our afternoon in the national park, we headed back to the repair shop, where our van was waiting for us. Bill explained that the power connection in the van’s hitch had been fried — it had not been wired correctly, so wires were touching and fuses had blown. We suspect that this was the work of the repair shop in Illinois last week. Anyway, Bill was confident that he had cleaned  it all up, and that we won’t have any problems going forward. Thank you, Blll! We certainly appreciate the tagline on his business card.

With the Teardrop in tow, we headed back through town, toward the mountain road that would take us back up to the Yurt.  But rather than drag the trailer all the way up the winding dirt road and risk bottoming out and screwing up the hitch connection again, we paid for a site in a scruffy-looking campground at the bottom of the mountain and left the trailer there for the night, We’ll pick it up in the morning, on our way to Lake Powell.

We got back to the yurt earlier enough to relax and take our time making dinner, which included blueberry pies made with biscuit dough in the pie irons over the fire. After supper, I took some time to work on the blog, while Keith and the kids — once again — engaged in a fierce National Parks Monopoly game.