Angels Landing...the definition of fear

I need to start by saying I have always wanted to hike Angels Landing in Zion's National Park. I have heard many horror stories about grown men crying while gripping the chains, people falling off and dying, etc. And this made me want to do it because....?

So a good friend of mine and I decided to take a little weekend trip to Bryce to hike down in there. I love Bryce (who doesn't?) and it's always fun to see how many blisters I can get and how much abuse I can inflict on my poor, gross feet. So we had a great day of hiking, taking great Bryce pics, and I even did my usual fall-down-and-almost-kill-myself routine that I always integrate into an outdoors trip. We were sore at the end of the long day, and I vowed to sleep in the next day and eat nothing that resembled trail mix.

But the next day came with an idea to drive to Zion's to do a few easy hikes, such as my usual Emerald Pond trails. But the idea of facing my fears and going up Angel's Landing was eating away at me. So, off we trotted to start what started as a beautiful stroll in a scenic canyon. This proceeded to a few hours of pretty quick switchbacks, which I felt were sort of steep. But as I was heaving and huffing and sitting on the side taking a break, I kept seeing smug teenagers trotting by in flip flops. This of course gave me the incentive to get to the top of the dang hill. I was of course in desperate need of a bathroom. Another smug hiker told me there was one at the top but that it's always locked at that time of year. Huh? So we ventured on, me whining about getting to the port-o-potty every few seconds. Looking down the switchbacks was much more fun than looking up to them.

At last we reach what I thought was "the top". It sure seemed like the top what with the steep drop off's I'd heard of, but I was suspicious that there were no chains. Evidently I was at "Scouts Landing", which is where scouts and other groups stop to eat, etc before mustering the courage to venture to the bigger part of the hike. I of course, ran to the potty, which indeed was closed, but had miraculous been pried open by some angel of mercy. Despite the odor from hell, it was the most beautiful place I'd seen so far.

The next little ways after the pottys was what is called "chicken out point". Which is obviously well put now that I have been through the whole thing. Most people see the set of chains and the poor suckers trying to ease their way around the side of the mountain with their flip flops on, and run for the hills. I have to admit, I felt some derision toward those ill-equipped non-hiker types just flailing

around the chains all willy-nilly. I figured if they could do it I could do...ahhh, ignorance is so very blissful. And for

some reason I was so fascinated by all of the goofy signage up there. Isn't it just common knowledge not to stand on the edge all precarious-like? I'm guess they are aiming for the lowest common denominator here, (flip flop wearers, that's you) and have to make us all suffer with the ACHTUNG! warnings.
It all seemed so easy, yet a bit scary, to amble up the little rock face while hanging onto the worthless chains. The problem was the tourists with small screaming children trying to get around you. Looking down was also a trip, as it was a loooong drop. I forgot to mention that my dear friend had back problems, and this was beginning to take its toll. So, once again I neared what I thought was the top. I looked out over the vast valley below with all the other tourists and sighed with relief. I had done it! I really did it! Then I saw a young kid about 20 walking some ways ahead of me and looking out over the beautiful vista. He kept shaking his head and saying "No way, no way am I doing that." I was curious of course. I walked up to him and asked what he couldn't do...jump? He then pointed to IT. The monster of all monsters, the REAL angels landing that had to be hiked. It looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. WHAT THE??? I sat down, but my head in my hands and just about cried. I had come this whole way and was NOT going to turn back. Of course, all the tourists had, and there were just a few die hards venturing up the chain which was going straight up a rock face with nary a smidge of room to walk from my angle. Honestly, this thing is open to the public? No wonder there are deaths there!

This little narrow strip of land is called the Narrow Neck. You traverse this and proceed to head straight up the mountain face on the craziest chains ever invented. The key is (I say this after seeing my life flash before my eyes) to NOT hold to the chain, but to carefully and slowly use footholds and handholds. My friend had long since decided this was not for her nor her back, and stayed behind promising to wait for me. Such a nice thought. Wait for me as I enter the afterlife? I honestly have not ever been filled with more fear and hatred for that mountain. But I couldn't face going home to my kids and telling them I got all the way up there and didn't do the entire Angels Landing hike. That I didn't make it to the TOP. I girded up my quaking body and crept forward. There were many tears shed, I won't lie. There was loud cursing, lots of resting, shaking and honest to goodness prayers. The drop on either side was unbelievable, and I could honestly see how even an experienced hiker could make a bad move and go over the edge. The edges were soft

and the thought of getting near them was beyond fearful to me. I have to admit that looking back over the place I had just come from, gave me a great feeling of accomplishment, but I still had a ways to go. Every now and then another poor schmuck would be coming down with a haggard look on his or her face. Some of them were the seasoned, cocky types, bounding over the rocks and avoiding the chains and scaring the beejeepers out of me. One day maybe I will be that kind of hiker, but maybe only in my dreams.

And speaking of dreams, when I reached the top, felt the wind on my face and the rush of looking out over that huge valley, I really was in a dream. There are no words for the feelings I felt up there. I was overwhelmed, so I sat down, kicked my feet up and had

a good cry.

I also got some nice man up there to take my picture with my tired by happy face on. I had no real thought as to how I would get down from there, but the joy I felt made that all just disappear. But the hike down did happen, and I was in grievous pain in my knee the entire, hobbling way down. Still didn't matter, I was happy as can be. We got down after dark that night and I kicked off my shoes to view the damage of my poor little duct-taped foot. Not too bad. I like to consider my destroyed feet living proof of a day well spent, and my biggest fears met.