Zion........the full moon has just crested the Wachman to the east. The cliffs in that direction remain black walls while the cliffs over my shoulder to the west are a pale gray. The trees now display shadows and flashlights are not needed. Water for tea has been boiled on the coleman stove (we have yet to use the trailer stove), Herman has gone to bed. He has had a busy day. After arriving at South Campground around 11am, we scored one of the last spots of about 120 sites. Not your usual RV park here. Camp sites scattered in a grove of trees surrounded by 2000 ft cliffs on two sides, the valley extending north and south. The town of Springdale is close enough to hike to but a shuttle bus will take you there for free. Mostly tents and small campers. Don't miss the huge motorhomes. After the obligatory visit to the visitor center and book store we hiked the Pa'rus trail along the Virgin River that flows the length of this valley and that, besides the fault line that runs thru here, is at least partially responsible for the formation of this truly remarkable landscape. By the end of this 1 1/2 mile wheelchair acceptable trail with Sarah on her little Burning Man bike and Herman pulling excitedly on the leash, we were all ready for a break from the noon sun with a rest in the shade and a dip in the cool green waters of the river. Herman, usually actively cautious of any water, willingly and enthusiastically entered and would have promptly floated down stream if it wasn't for the leash securely connected to his collar.
After naps all around we head in to town for the Zion Music and Art Festival. Acceptable blues band playing on stage and the usual pop-up shade structures protecting vendors of pottery, jewelry, jams, and clothing (even tie-die). Bought Sarah some miniature basket earrings from a young Indian gal and when we inquired about the pinon nuts she had for sale she poured each of us a generous hand full. Popping them into our mouths and chewing she laughed and instructed us that they are to be eaten "like sunflower seeds". Somewhat embarrassed we advised her that the extra fiber of the shells will probably not hurt! But what made this event so remarkable is it's location. Nestled in a natural amphitheater of rock rising 1000 feet over head it is surrounded by the red cliffs that make up this area. Truly one of the most spectacular locations for an outdoor festival I have ever been to.
Plan to get up at dawn to hike up the Watchman trail............
Up at 6:15am and on the Watchman trail in the dark. As dawn breaks I can see the worn path snaking up 2.7 miles thru gully. After about 45 min. and 400 feet elevation I reach the vista of sandstone above a layer of something much harder. Across the valley the sun is slowly dropping a brilliant curtain of light down the sides of Mt. Kinesava nd The West Temple. In the still dark valley I can see the entire campsite, the visitors center, employee's residents and the bus barn with the shuttle buses getting fueled for their day. To the south is the town of Springdale and Hurricane Mesa in the distance. To the north the valley with it's red park road disappears between The Sentinel and The East Temple. Two things has impressed me on this trip: size and time. Gazing below it is all too obvious that we insignificant beings can have very little impact or influence on this rock we call Earth. It is clear to me that all we know and have can be so easily erased with just a flick of a cosmic finger. And with time, all our existence, all our presence will be erased. In the past 260 million years this land has been flooded multiple times, compacted by pressures, shifted by quakes, rearranged by continental drift. And the Earth is still here. And will be still here long after we are gone. There is something reassuring about that.....
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