I sit and wait at the entrance to Zion National Park. The city of Springdale, UT, was crazy busy on my drive-through, and the midweek traffic caught me off guard. Today is Tuesday, October 4, and generally, school has begun by this time of year. So people get back to a more traditional schedule as I wait behind the dozen cars at the national park entrance gate; standard plans are no longer in vogue.
There is only one gate open, which is unusual for this morning; cars keep pulling forward in the second lane, and I double-check the lights above the gate to verify that only one green checkmark is illuminated. I sit and wait, watching the ever-growing line behind me through the rearview mirror.
I finally see how crowded the park is on this beautiful October morning through the gate. I visit Zion national park about 30 times per year, and with so many visits, I have become familiar with out-of-the-way places to park. Most people would drive by wide spots in the road before recognizing them as parking spots. Everything is full of cars. A bus crowded to the quills with people turns left in front of me towards the main canyon.
Finally, free of the lumbering bus, I raise my speed to the limit and am continually amazed at the number of people who have taken every available space. Finally, I move through the switchbacks and come to a complete stop, a full turn before the long 1.1-mile tunnel on Zion's east side. I've never been this far back waiting to enter the tunnel. Ever.
I sit and wait, looking for climbers on the shadowed cliffs. I don't see any parked cars; however, these cliffs are a favorite of climbers, and I'm surprised that the walls are empty. Perhaps, the crowds have scared them away, or new policies prohibit the climb. Finally, the line starts to move, and I'm excited to be progressing toward the hike I had planned for today.
It is a madhouse when I emerge into the sunlight on the eastern side of Zion. Cars overflow everything ignoring the no parking signs, and pour out of their vehicles for the only established trail at this park junction. Just ahead is where I would typically park for an ascent of Progeny peak; however, it is doubtful I'll be doing the climb today.
With no parking, I text Linda to let her know we will not be eating at Oscars today as I plan on driving through the park and up highway 89 to return home. The east entrance has a waiting line that extends almost to the park boundaries exceeding 50 cars at least waiting to get in. I’m grateful that I’m heading in the opposite direction. Crazy.
I check on several alternate hiking areas, including Red Canyon outside of Orderville. A dozen cars greet me in the lot, so I continue. The drive up US-89 is beautiful, and the traffic is moderate, given how many people must be out and about to jam up the national parks this way.
Turning left onto UT-14, I'm soon amazed at the color the fall has brought to the mountain. Reds and vibrant yellows dot the hillside. I sit and wait outside Duck Creek as road crews work to maintain a part of the road that was washed away during our last extensive rainstorm. I take a couple of pictures of the Aspen trees; however, photos never do the beauty justice.
I sit and wait at the construction stop light, forgetting the large-scale road project happening just below the "S" turn that continues down the mountain past the college ranch. The construction delay is a long wait; thankfully, the hillside is alive with color. The dark pine trees have pockets of yellow mixed throughout, and it is mesmerizing to view. I take a few more pictures before following the busy road down the mountainside and into town.
I sit and wait at the school zone. Having arrived back in town just as the East Elementary School releases its swarm of kids and parents. It's fun to watch all the kids hold hands crossing the road in front of me while I wait for the flow of vitality to slow down. Using the time, I call Linda. I know it's late, but perhaps by chance, she hasn't had lunch yet, either. I catch her mid-breath, and she requests that I pick her up at Bicentennial park, where she is rollerblading, getting ready for ski season.
I sit and wait while my lovely wife takes off her skates and gathers her stuff. We haven't decided where to eat lunch yet; however, two of our favorite places are within striking distance, and I am starving by now. Linda mentions Alberto's Mexican, one of our favorites; I note Brad's Food Hut. Another favorite, Brad's, is the old-school hamburger joint and hosts my favorite double-decker burger with ham and all the trimmings. They also make fabulous shakes.
I sit and wait, almost shaking in anticipation of my hamburger. I didn't get any hiking today; however, I almost feel like my muscles are 'bonking,' for lack of energy. Finally, the food arrives, and we dive in, enjoying the food, large French fries, and, yes, milkshakes.
I sit and wait for bedtime. I'm exhausted. For not doing anything but sitting and waiting on stuff, it is amazing how tired I am. Thankfully, I call it a night early and crawl into bed. Finally, no waiting as I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.
Written October 5, 2022