The Narrows (Zion National Park, Utah)

After some lunch and a change of gear, we decide to head up to the Narrows, one of the main draws of the park. The bus drops us off at the northern end of the main canyon and signs indicate that we have another mile hike to reach the start of the Narrows. The Narrows, as the name implies, are the northern end of the canyon where the walls have closed in to such a point that mere yards separate one from the other. Looking up the sheer sides, one sees the roof is several hundred feet up, and through it all, the calm (at least today) river beckons adventure seekers.

The hike to the start is pretty crowded and after traversing a small portion of the Narrows, I can understand why. When we reach the jumping off point, I switch into some water shoes, which I use for kayaking and begin to wade up the shallow river. Nick, having left his gear at home, agrees to wait for me. I promise to not venture too far and make him wait too terribly long.

The water is cool, but not cold, and I am joined by numerous hikers of all ages as we shimmer and shake our way over the slick creek gravel river bottom. In some places there is dry land on one side or the other, but for most of the distance I travel (a total of about half a mile) I am simply wading in water anywhere from knee to navel deep. What fun this is.
 

I think back to my childhood and of exploring the twists and turns of Hurricane Creek in Kentucky with my dad. Those were some of my fondest memories of him and I can't help but think of him now as I walk down a similar path, but in a far distant land. I miss dad. I wish he were still with us to see or perhaps even experience some of the wonders I have seen in my life. I think he would have enjoyed many of them.

Reaching a point, I tell myself that I will travel around one final bend and then turn back to rejoin Nick who was patiently waiting for me. After turning that bend, I decide to take one more. The child-like joy of this amazing hike is something that I hesitate to let go, but I must. My friend has been good enough to allow me to do this, while he waits. I turn around and head back for the start, all the while telling myself that I will one day soon hike (or wade) the entire "trail".