On the first evening of our hiking excursion, our friend and
host attempted to gauge the ability, interest, and comfort level of her friends
that had just arrived in Hurricane, Utah. After a nearly four-month retreat into the
wild wilderness of the area, she had recently completed an amazing hike. It
involved a 30’ rope assisted drop along rock ledges into the narrows, after
which hikers would then swim across two deep pools of cold water to complete
their trek. With mixed feelings of fear, excitement, and dread, I asked if
there might be an easier hike to “break us in” to the climate and environment. The next morning we began a series of hikes in
areas surrounding Zion National Park.
The first hike took us to Warner Valley, an open space outside
the Sky Ranch area of Hurricane, and was a simple stroll into the desert. Two notes of interest are that Sky Ranch is a
subdivision of homes with airplane hangars alongside garages, surrounding a
private airfield. Also, if we were to continue roughly 50 miles along the dusty,
bumpy road to Warner Valley, we would arrive at Grand Canyon just above Lava
falls. This was clearly the road less traveled. For this hike, we
simply parked the car and started walking westward across the landscape, acquainting
ourselves with the flora, fauna, and rocks unique to this setting. It was a
lovely transition, allowing us the chance to ooh and ah-h over many a plant and
flower, and a rare treat to create our own path, unrestricted by others that
had gone before us. If this had been our only hike, I think I would have been satisfied.
Warner Valley was the first of two hikes for the day and began
the theme of seeing “something different.” Hike number two took us through the
town of Hildale, Utah on our way to Water Canyon. Hildale, a fascinating anomaly
of unfathomable lifestyles, is the lesser-populated polygamous twin town to
Colorado City, AZ. Surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of Zion, it is sheltered by rows of privacy fences and partially constructed homes,and looks to be bursting at the seams with family
expansion. Many traditionally coifed and clad wives and children were visible
as we drove through the town featured in National Geographic Magazine’s 2010 article“Polygamists.” 
Water Canyon begins at a small parking lot with a man-made reservoir, and follows a sandy trail along a small river tributary, ending for us in a narrow slot canyon and waterfall. Water and shade cool the
trail, giving it a green and lush feel which is unusual for this harsh dry
desert terrain. As we climb in elevation, the path narrows coming closer and
closer to wet rock walls and moving waters, and crossing ledges of large moist slick
rock. With spring temperatures in the 80s in
full sun, Water Canyon cools to much lower temperatures as the canyon walls
close in, even retaining ice and snow below at the bottom of the slot canyon. Moving
and falling water sprays the path and walls nurturing greenery in the most
unlikely crevices. As evening approaches, we absorb the mountain stillness before
returning to the radiant evening pre-dusk light, saving the ascent to Canaan
Mountain for another time. Our evening is completed by the extended sunset with
a lovely dinner to follow in Hurricane.
Thursday’s trek to Coalpits Wash presented water
features that were completely new and different from the previous’ days hike. The
trailhead, found just off a busy road leading into Springdale, is a traditional
gate structure with a clearly marked path of dusty dry earth traversing along a
rutted meadow lined by cottonwoods. After a short time, the trail meets the meandering
stream while rocky peaks with Mormon inspired names like The Bishopric, Towers of the Virgin, and the Altar of Sacrifice watchfully line the distance horizon. Soon the trail became less defined as we crisscross
the river frequently, amid small rocks and large boulders. The river is home to an endless supply of
tadpoles and water-life, providing a respite of sound and coolness with moving
water and inviting pools. Our hike became more of a meander as we stopped frequently
to cool ourselves and enjoy the surroundings. During our day’s hike we saw only
two other groups, one as we entered the gate, and the other after turning around to return. We hiked out hours
later, beating the evening rush to Oscar’s Café in Springdale for a much anticipated cold beer and delicious dinner.
Afterwards, our friend drove us along a steep, narrow road clinging to the cliff side to the Hurricane and Smith Mesa, a narrow winding road to ,
the location of the distant unlikely water tower. Along with the amazing
overlook and plentiful fossilized wood, the mesa was home to a secret airbase, whose distant water tower had perplexed me for days. The airbase, which is still relatively unknown and now privately owned, was also known as Monkey Mesa since the airfield was used to test ejection seats on monkeys and black bears before animals were treated more humanely. This late evening excursion also gave us a small glimpse into life when the air cools and the animals come out to play.
A change in the weather darkened the skies on Friday keeping
us closer to home and away from potentially muddy or rutted roads that might
become impassible with impending moisture. Along the way to another destination, the sand
dunes surrounding Sand Hollow Reservoir beckoned to us. Our friend said that
the dunes were constantly shifting and changing providing endless variety of
pathways to the Sand Mountain. ATV’s, like ants, dotted the distant terrain
humming as they traversed the mounds in front of us, quickly discouraging us
from continuing our hike. Even in the short distance we traveled, we became
fascinated and amazed with the abundant life forms in this small patch of
desert, nurtured by a large man-made water source. Long, stripe-tailed lizards, jackrabbits, tracks and dwellings were proof positive of recent animal activities.
Returning to the car, we drove through an urban and highly
commercial setting of distribution warehouses to the trail head of the Red Cliff Desert Reserve. The
trail set out like most others with a dusty path through shrubs, wildflowers,
cacti, and yucca, but somewhere along the way we left common scenes and were transported to the land
of geologic wonders. Soon large wavy piles of yellow-orange ridged
rocks lined our way, while small round rocks called moqui balls were
scattered at our feet, constantly shifting our focus from great to small objects. While
the formation of moqui balls is a mystery, their circular shapes are said to be
formed by a concretion of sedimentary rock, irregularities, minerals, and
erosion. My first experience with this
sort of geological wonder was years prior on a visit to Moeraki, South Island, New Zealand,where the perfectly spherical rocks as large as 9 feet in
diameter were randomly placed by nature across the beach. These smaller cousin
rocks looked more like leftover playthings from an earlier pre-dawn marble
game. An occasional moqui ball was split in two revealing a bull’s eye and other
patterns of discoloration. Disoriented, we moved for hours through and over
ridges and across sandy pathways without a clear destination in site. We even entered an abandon cave-like
ruins which were all that remained of earlier silver mining on the site. After hours
of explorations we followed a more defined creek bed full of small rocks and larger boulders back to our trail. By now the approaching strong storm winds carried a huge number of blowing
tumbleweeds which blocked and fought us as we made our to the car to exit this unusual
scene.
At the end of our travels, our host wanted to know which
hike was our favorite. Like many things in life, often the best hikes are the
most recent ones since they remain vibrant, still resonating in the quiet places of my
mind long after our feet have stopped moving. After this discussion, our friend revealed the circular pattern of our
hiking journey thus making me feel that we had barely scratched the surface of
the wonders and beauties found while circumnavigating Zion.
