This is a short story about our road trip to Zion National Park in the early summer of 2011. Cris, Dan, and I were living in a ram-shacked old house on Lathrop Street in Madison at the time. Cris and I had just graduated with our bachelor’s degrees the week before. Dan graduated the following year — he changed majors! It felt really great to hit the road and spend some quality time with good friends. My writing style gravitated toward the dramatic back then……hope you enjoy……
The open road lay before us. Three gents, on their way to the great West. The Prius was loaded with a backgammon board, a tent, and a couple of water bottles. It’s easy to hit the road when you don’t bring a lot of crap with you.
I went for a long run around Lake Mendota the evening before just to get in the spirit. I watched the sun set over the power lines and the industrial buildings, and tried to imagine that great canyon. We crossed the Mississippi early in the morning, and I took a picture of it. I thought about Huck Finn sailing down the river with ol Jim. You could probably learn a thing or two if you had to fend for yourself for a change. Soon I took the wheel and we crossed the plains of Nebraska. Corn never smelt so good.
In Colorado, we ascended the mountains and survived the blizzard that hit in the middle of the night. We were all a little nervous, so we pulled out on a ramp for a while and just looked at the stars. Well pretty soon we got back on the road, and I took the wheel again. Damn, I was tired as hell. I started blasting AC/DC to stay awake. It wasn’t working, so I tried Metallica. That didn’t work either so I rolled down the window, stuck my head out, and started rockin. But I couldn’t see those mountain curves with my head out the window, so I stopped at a gas station. Cris would take the final leg into Zion, the Mecca of our pilgrimage. I realized how tired I was when I couldn’t figure out how to turn the damn car off. There’s no ignition. It’s a button. All you do is push it. That was a hoot.
When we arrived at Zion, we found a campsite right in the park, right in the canyon. Nobody gets a campsite in the park. I mean, people are trowling around at 4 in the morning trying to get a first come, first serve site here. And we just drove right up. It was a sign of things to come. I am telling you, right now. I am telling you, right now, and for all times, you will never see a canyon as glorious, as heavenly in its splendor, in all the world as the Great Elder Zion Canyon. It changed my life. I know it is only a lot of rock eroded by a river, but I feel that it is the gift of life itself, which is given to us. We hiked a couple days in the canyon, and just got lost. I don’t mean we got lost, just that we let go. I laughed and looked Cris and Dan in the eye, instead of looking at the ground, when I talked to them. We walked a trail that had no end. On the trail, we climbed up a log onto a ledge, skirted across a creek, got our feet all wet, balanced on a narrow ledge, met some great Asian women who I had no idea how they made it that far, and then decided to turn back. There were no goals for us here, no need to get to the end of the trail. I like to think there was no end. I let the canyon and the forest take me away.
I can honestly say this is the kind of trip that can make a life long friendship. You know I don’t know it yet, but I think the friendship that lasts a lifetime is the friendship that you don’t really have to work to keep it. I mean you could go away for years, meet again, and it would be like you never left each other. I hope I feel that way with Cris and Dan. I think you could really get to know someone on a trip like this. And damn, I might need someone to really know me someday in case I get in a tight spot. Someone who can say, remember when we sat on Angel’s Landing and looked at the rain clouds?
