Zion Adventures!
Hiking and exploring Utah's first National Park
By far, Zion is my favorite National Park that I have visited. In 2024, during the heat of summer, I drove out from Las Vegas to see Zion for a day. But I loved it so much that I ended up spending the night at a shitty, rundown motel just to get more time in the park the next day. I was with a friend and we ended up traversing parts of the Narrows both days, our minds completely blown by how amazing the striking red canyon walls were. Leaving was hard. I knew that I had to be back one day to explore it more.
Callie Hikes is a reader-supported publication.
If you want to help keep this newsletter running, you can subscribe (paid or free) or Buy Me A Coffee below!
Day One
For this trip, we drove into Zion using the East entrance which was a part of the park I hadn’t seen the last time I was there. Despite it taking a solid thirty minutes to get through to the South end where we wanted to be, the drive was so worth it just to soak in how incredibly massive the rock formations were. Unlike the deep and wide rust colored crevice of the Grand Canyon, the smooth tan layers of the rock on either side of the road decorated with green fir trees were so beautiful I’m having a hard time describing how it felt to be in their presence.
Small. But in the best way possible. Insignificant, yet worthy at the same time. Lost in the mesmerizing power of the canyons around, just feeling so loved and cradled by the earth.
After finding some BLM land to camp at outside of Springdale close to Zion, I was itching bad to get outside and touch the dusty Utah dirt with my trail runners. Not far was a small two-mile loop that I just had to do, so my friend dropped me off at the trailhead while he went to check out the nearest grocery store. It wasn’t enough to fulfill the desire to run and hike until I tasted salty sweat dripping down my face, but it would have to suffice until the next day. There was something so magical and special about feeling the sharp bristles of sagebrush scrap against my legs as I ran by. The red clay, bright purple flowers from the cacti, and paintbrush clouds in the sky captured my heart immediately. I didn’t want it to end.
As the sunset blistered in the distance at our campsite and I cooked yet another hot bowl of cheap ramen with my stove, I hugged my jacket around my shoulders and settled into the moment. I was in the middle of an expansive prairie land with unbelievable mountains on the skyline and nothing but my tent and sleeping bag to keep me warm. I was living in a dream, it felt like—something I’ve needed in my bones for a long time.
Day Two
Today was big hike day! Initially, I wanted to backpack a section of Zion, but my friend didn’t want to tag along and I felt weird about leaving him hanging. So I settled for a hard day hike while he checked out another part of the park. After shuttling into Zion, I was dropped off at the Grotto Trailhead where the Angels Landing hike started. We applied for permits earlier that day and wouldn’t hear back until later if we were accepted or not (we ended up not being permitted). Honestly, even though it’s one of the most popular hikes in Utah, I was intimidated to attempt something that dangerous. For now, I wanted to hike along the West Rim Trail, which ran close to where Angels Landing was. The hike up to the top of an absolutely massive rock was the same for both trails.
And. It. Was. Hard.
Coming from the Grand Canyon, I thought nothing would be harder than the climb back out. But I was very wrong. My Missouri legs struggled to keep up with the sharp switchbacks all the way to the top of this hike. It was a full two miles worth of incline with an elevation gain of 2,000ft. Being from a town of 600 feet where the trails are much gentler, I was stopping every few seconds to catch my breath. Also, as the trail got higher, so did my concern about dying. The path was paved and narrow, with a huge drop-off near the edge. While the views were stunning, I could feel my heart beating in my ears as I looked down to see tiny ant-sized people making their way up as well.
I finally reached the point where Angels Landing was and immediately rethought my decision to apply for permits. It’s basically a really steep, narrow climb that curves as you get higher up on the giant rock. The only thing keeping you from falling is the chained handrail to the left and common sense to not step close enough to the edge. I was scared of heights, and just watching people go up gave me the shakes.
“Nope. Nope. Nope,” I thought, turning in the opposite direction and heading up to explore more of the West Rim. As I got further up, the more I stopped to turn around and look at Zion as an equal with the surrounding rocks. From below, everything is magnificent and towering above the entire park. But to be at eye level with some of the biggest rock formations felt incredibly special. At one point, I reached a large flat part on the climb where people were taking breaks and eating snacks. The smooth rock surface was merely a bald patch on the formation where you could mosey about and take in the 360 views. Eventually, I moved on and found a secluded spot to have lunch, but on the way back, I spent more time in this area and just felt so in awe of everything around me.
The way back down to the trailhead was just as nerve-racking as the way up. I just tried to concentrate on my steps and not on the blistering drop off to my left. I was able to cruise more consistently without getting my heart rate up, which was a nice change. Soon, I was at the bottom again, my legs tight and tired more from the elevation gain than the miles. After taking a shuttle to meet up with my friend at the visitor’s center, we headed to our campsite to gather our rancid, dirty clothes to wash them at the coin laundry in Springdale. While we waited for them to finish, we hung out in some of the gear shops on either side of the street. My feet were happy to be in my sandals on the flat sidewalk while wandering around the town with a lingering sunburn on my face.
In that moment, I was able to wear a slight smile and allow myself to settle into how nice it was to be in the middle of the desert surrounded by the most beautiful mountains. I sighed, and remember feeling sleepy with the haze of a good day spent outside. After a dinner of warm rice and lentil soup, I fell asleep in my tent excited for the next stop on our trip: Bryce Canyon National Park.
Callie from the present
The events that took place in this trip report were about a week ago. I’m still currently out West exploring and driving around to different areas, but I stagger these posts for safety reasons. All that aside, I wanted to share some details and updates about the traumatic experience that happened in Kentucky at the beginning of this month because they have been weighing heavily on my mind while I’ve been out hiking in the backcountry. I’m not going to be able to move on from what happened for a long time. I’m still having vivid dreams about what took place. I spend long moments during the day pondering the sequence in which everything unfolded.
So far, I’m doing better about not beating myself up about what happened and have been working my way out of the eating disorder behaviors I tend to fall back on when I feel things I don’t want to feel. But thinking about it still hurts a lot.
Recently, my family reached out to a lawyer who represents FedEx to possibly get some sort of retribution, whatever that can even look like for a situation like this. After turning over the possibilities in my head, there’s nothing that will ever fully resolve the damage that has been done. To provide a little context, a delivery driver ran over our dog and his actions/behavior indicated that he did it intentionally. He saw our dog lying in the road and chose not to swerve, give enough time for our elderly dog to move out of the way, or park the truck to walk the package up the driveway. To make matters worse, he didn’t even let us know that he had hit our dog. He simply put the package in front of our garage door and was walking back to his truck to leave when my father came outside to see what had happened.
His blatant lack of compassion or concern is frightening. If I were in his situation, first of all, I wouldn’t under any circumstances run over a dog. But if I had, I would have frantically pounded on the owner’s door for help, or already had the dog in my truck to rush to the vet as fast as I could. More than anything, I want a letter from the driver explaining his side of the story and an honest response to why he did what he did. My family conveyed this to the lawyer, to which she said that this was something she couldn’t provide and that the only thing she could offer was to cover our expenses for cremating our dog.
Just hearing this is a massive slap in the face. My family and I don’t really care about the money. We want to know why this occurred and what efforts will be made to ensure this never happens again. To do this, it looks like we’ll have to contact our own lawyer. This is something we are still debating because it would be incredibly expensive. If we go this route and we do manage to get a response from the driver, who knows that his explanation will bring any sort of peace or relief. Bottom line, we may not get the response we want. And that is very hard to hold.
How do you make sense of terrible things that happen for no reason? How do you move on from something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place? Why is there bad in the world? Why are there horrible people? What kind of evil deliberately harms another being simply for existing?
These are all questions I’m fighting in my brain. I can’t understand why this type of horror happened. The only thing I can do is hike and try to forget. To try and remember how things used to be with our dog in our lives. To try and find the joy, discover things to laugh about, and seek out what is good around me. To hike in the National Parks and brainwash myself into being happy, because the alternative is nothing but pain.
I apologize to leave this post on a crappy note. I am in constant contact with people I love and who support me through this. I have a therapy session in two weeks. Being outside so much has been incredibly healing. Writing this newsletter has given me a purpose to focus on. I sincerely appreciate everyone who follows along and who subscribes or reaches out in the comments/email. You all are incredible. Thank you for listening and for being here.
See you out on the trail!