THE NARROWS
Today’s trip
report is brought to you by the color black.
Editor’s
Note: Censorship is
alive and well on fungiandfungirls website.
Since Fungirl is a part owner of this site, she gets some say in the
content. Following are some of the proposed
titles for this trip report that Fungirl rejected. Keep in mind that this is the same individual that once titled a
trip report “Two naked men and a moose.”
Stuck where the sun don’t shine
The Narrows of the Virgin
Entering the Virgin for the first time
The Frigid Virgin
And here’s a few that were rejected –
violently:
Deep inside….Woops, Fungirl just walked
in. I better close this, just in case
she reads it over my shoulder. Email me
if you want to hear the rest…
Wednesday
brought the opportunity for a unique adventure. My plan was to hike up the Virgin River, into the narrows of Zion
Canyon. From the end of the park road,
a paved trail continues a mile before ending at the mouth of the narrows. From there, most of the hiking is in the river
itself. This is quite demanding, as you
might imagine. Cold, deep water, strong
currents, and slippery rocks are some of the hazards a hiker will face in the
narrows. However, the narrows are also
beautiful. The river rushes between
vertical cliff walls hundreds of feet high.
In some places, the canyon is only 15 to 20 feet wide.
My
biggest concern was the water temperature.
As of the previous day, the river was a nippy 52 degrees. That’s rather cold to be walking around in
it all day. Being out in the sun would
help, except I wouldn’t be out in the sun.
Sunlight hardly reaches the bottom of the deepest, narrowest parts of
the canyon. Hypothermia was a very real
concern. Fortunately, water levels were
fairly low, and clear weather virtually ensured that the potential danger from
flash flooding was minimal.
Getting
ready for the hike required some unusual preparation. First, I put my clothes and gear inside ziplocks and trash bags
before loading them into my packs. My
camera was double-ziplocked, wrapped in a trash bag, and stashed in my
pack. Then, I had to decide what to
wear. My initial thought was to wear
river sandals. However, I was concerned
that they wouldn’t be supportive enough for a hike of this magnitude. I hated to wear waterlogged leather boots
all day, but ultimately that’s what I decided to do. Many people wear wet suits this late in the year. I didn’t have one, so I went with a bathing
suit (green), and multiple upper layers (mostly purple). I added a fleece hat (also purple) and
gloves (black) to help keep warm. As
you can imagine, I made quite a fashion statement on the bus to the
trailhead.
The
bus eventually reached the end of the road, and I got off in abundant
sunshine. Oddly, I was cold. In fact, I had been cold all morning, and I
hadn’t even gotten into the river yet.
This was not a good sign.
I
hurried up the trail in an effort to generate some heat. Before long, the trail ended on the
riverbank. This is where tourists are
legally required to turn around. A
handful of them were hanging around, watching various crazy people walk into
the river. On purpose. I waded out into the river, heading towards
a trail visible on a sandy bank on the far side.
It
took a few steps before I reached water deep enough to fill my boots. It was cold, but I’d been in worse. Of course, those occasions were all brief
river crossings. Today, it would be an
all-day affair.
I
reached the far side, and followed a path across a sandbar hosting a few shrubs
and small trees. The sandbar ended
abruptly, but another appeared on the far side of the river. I headed back across. This may sound silly, but I wanted to avoid
walking directly upriver as much as possible.
Plus, the river is narrow enough that crossing it only takes a few
steps.
After
a few more crossings, the sandbars ended, and the only remaining option was to
head upriver. The water was typically
knee-deep, but a significant amount of zigzagging around was necessary to stay
in the shallow water. A couple of minutes
later, even that didn’t help. I waded
to the edge of a deep, black pool. The
water was so dark, it was impossible to tell how deep it was. A sharp curve in the canyon ahead kept the
next shallow area out of site. I waded
forward until the water was thigh deep, and hesitated.
How
good of an idea was this? Once I got
completely soaked, it would be extremely difficult to warm up again. I had a pack full of clothes, but how much
good would they do me once I got wet?
On the other hand, I didn’t feel cold any more. After a brief debate, I retreated to a pile
of rocks were I could rest my pack. I
didn’t really want to go for a swim, but I wasn’t ready to turn around yet, either. I had only been going for 10 minutes or so,
and the canyon was just starting to get good.
I decided to give it a shot. I
took off all of my upper layers (except the fleece hat), and stashed them in
the top of my pack. Then I returned to
the edge of the pool.
I
had heard that the shallowest water was on the left side. This was a key piece of information, because
I certainly couldn’t tell where the river was deepest. I stayed close to the left-hand wall, and
eased forward. The icy water crept over
my knees, and up my thighs. As it
neared my waist, my testicles took shelter somewhere inside my abdomen. Elvis has left the building.
I
took another cautious step forward. The
water rose to my navel. The bottom of
my pack sank into the water, and tried to rise up off my shoulders. Another tentative step brought the waterline
to my lower chest. My pack felt like it
wanted to float away. My trekking pole
was virtually useless, as the water was too deep to properly plant it. If the water got any deeper, things would
really get unpleasant. I still couldn’t
see any hint of shallower water ahead.
The first whispers of panic began to flutter through me.
The
next step wasn’t any worse. The step
after was - could it be - a little shallower?
One more step brought the water level back down to my navel. After a few more steps, I turned a corner
and was relieved to see rocks ahead. I
hurried forward, and dressed quickly once I reached dry land.
I
resumed the hike with more river walking.
I passed a small waterfall cascading down one of the canyon walls. Another bend in the canyon revealed a huge
sandbar scattered with trees. More
importantly, the sandbar was basking in direct sunshine. I stopped there for a brief rest to thaw out
in the sun. It would be the last time
I’d really see the sun until Thursday.
As
I progressed farther upstream, the canyon walls continued to close in. The light faded to black. As the canyon grew narrower, the scenery
became even more spectacular. I felt
like I was walking into the very bowels of the Earth. The canyon walls soared straight up for hundreds of feet, with
only a tiny glimpse of blue sky to indicate that the outside world still
existed. The canyon walls themselves
were beautiful. The rock, carved and worn
smooth by years of rushing water, glowed orange and red in the mid-day light. At one point, I spotted the unmistakable
likeness of the Virgin Mary, high up on one of the canyon walls. I took a photo of it, with the full
intention of selling it on Ebay Mexico (http://www.mercadolibre.com.mx/home_visitor.html),
but oddly, that picture didn’t turn out.
I
continued upriver, negotiating several crossings that were tricky due to fast
water. I had been hiking for over 2
hours, when I reached the tightest stretch of the canyon. The sandbars farther downstream were only a
memory here, as I fought my way upstream against the current. Suddenly, I spotted a side stream up ahead
entering the river from the east. One
final traverse at a particularly difficult spot led to a small sandy beach
right at the mouth of Orderville Canyon.
At this point, I had a great view upstream and down, as well as up the
extremely narrow side canyon.
Orderville is probably less than 10’ wide where it joins the river, and
its scenery rivals that of the main river.
This was an exceptionally cool spot, and an ideal place for lunch. I sat in the sand and tore through my
lunch. It may have been the exertion or
the cold, but I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
Orderville
canyon is a likely destination for many dayhikers exploring the canyon from the
bottom. I had seen only a handful of
other hikers on the way in, but now people began to appear from
downstream. Several groups wandered by,
continuing upstream. One couple was
backpacking, and heading the other way.
Another solo hiker stopped near my lunch spot, and we took photos of
each other.
It
didn’t take long before I tired of the traffic. After lunch, I explored Orderville Canyon. This was enjoyable, especially since the
stream was much smaller than the Virgin River.
The walking was easier, warmer, and equally as scenic. I continued until I reached a boulder pile
with a small pouroff that looked like it would be tricky to descend on the way
back. I knew I’d have to turn around at
the base of small waterfall soon, and I didn’t want to take any chances since I
was by myself, so I headed back.
I
returned to the river, but decided to explore farther upstream before heading
out. I continued on, passing more
stunning scenery. I spotted the
floating rock – a giant boulder in the middle of the river. After a few more bends, I reached another
deep, black pool. I knew from my
pre-trip research that crossing this one would require swimming. Look at the time! It was already 3pm. As
much as I wanted to swim that pool to see what was hiding around the next bend,
it was time to head out. Perhaps next
time.
The
hike out went much faster. Going
downstream was easier, since I didn’t have to fight the current. Plus, I was much more confident in my
footing. I hurried downriver, as the
faint mid-day light was long gone, and it was getting cold again. At one point, I had a particularly chilling
thought. What if I was stranded here
after dark? Walking down that river was
difficult enough without trying it in total darkness.
Before
long, I was back at the first deep pool.
Crossing this time wasn’t nearly as bad, as I knew exactly what to
expect. Before long, I was emerging
from the canyon. In a sense, I felt
like I was being reborn, this time by Mother Earth Herself. When I came out into the light, I was cold,
dirty, wet, and a little disoriented. I
think I may have cried a little. At
some point, my testicles re-descended.
All of that, and the baptism was already included.
I
sloshed back to the bus, but stopped to put on some warm clothes for the long
ride back to camp. The sun had already
disappeared beyond the canyon wall by the time I returned. I took the insoles out of my soaked boots,
and left them outside the tent. I could
only hope they would dry in time for my flight home on Friday.
Back to Utah
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