Where Angels Fear to Tread

Angels Landing

We’re on vacation this week, and the initial dichotomy strikes me.

We landed in Las Vegas last night. As anyone who’s been here knows, first thing you see when you deplane—slot machines. At baggage claim, slot machines. Picking up your rental car, more one-armed bandits.

On the escalator down to baggage claim, we were flanked by huge ads for male dancers, Chippendales and the Thunder Down Under. Dara just shook her head and said, “Vegas, baby.”

As we high-tailed it out of town, there were billboards for the Love Store (relationship enhancement products), shows, and lawyers—lots of lawyers.

I wonder how much is spent on electricity in a day in this town.

Johhny looking down from 1/4 mile below summit

We are now in Zion National Park, one of my favorite places in the world. Here, I am surrounded by mountains far too beautiful too describe. The park has places with names like the Virgin River, The Great White Throne, Tabernacle Dome, the Altar of Sacrifice, and Cathedral Mountain. Most were named by Mormon settlers.

Today we plan to hike Zion’s “pride and joy,” Angels Landing. Apparently it was named in 1916 by Rev. Frederick Vining of Ogden, as he believed angels would never land on the nearby Great White reserved for God. It’s a five-hour hike, round trip. The first two miles are paved, at times serpentine, but the last half-mile is across a narrow sandstone ridge. There are anchored support chains for help.

My husband and I did this over twenty years ago, and I still regard it as a great accomplishment. This time we are bringing our two 13-year-olds.

view from summit of Angels Landing

Like all things worth doing, it’s hard. But the payoff at the end is unbelievable.