Something challenging to do, in a place that inspires me to do it, and a friendly face or two with whom to do it, that's all I need.
Zion is the winsome woman in the room, bewitching, captivating, and disarmingly drop-dead-gorgeous. Being a sucker for anything Red—Corvettes, sun dresses, rocks—she targets my predilection like a guided missile, straight to the heart.
Hiking Petroglyph Canyon with Bobbie and fellow blogger/hiking-mate Suzanne, I caught myself ogling (mouth all agape, a little drop of drool in one corner), trolling for adjectives and trying to come up with the right words in the right order such that they might convey what, to me, is nothing short of a dazzling landscape. There are but few places where words are utterly inadequate and fall short of the glory of God. The trail-less canyon backcountry of Zion is one of those places.
After wandering "Petroglyph," we opt for another short hike into a nameless canyon. It requires some bouldering, and the rocks are refrigerator cold. Bobbie dons her fleece gloves and headband.
Our effort is rewarded with this little waterfall. I know a route that would enable us to continue on to the next "level," but I'm underdressed. The cold seeps ever nearer arthritic joints that deplore damp, sunless places. I long for hot food and beverage. Backtrack, baby; sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.
|Bobbie hold the boulder while Suzanne slips through the crack :)|