Day Seventeen: Zion National Park (Rest Day)

Since the planning stages of this trip, we have been excited to spend rest days at Zion National Park. We slept in till 8:30, which earned us nearly 12 hours of sleep. We took 6-minute showers (the allotted time) and walked into town to an amazing coffee shop called Deep Creek Coffee. The store is unique and funky, filled with artwork, trinkets, cozy wood tables and an outdoor lofted seating area with views of the canyon. They serve Doma Coffee, a brand out of Post Falls, ID, and the same coffee that I served at my job in Spokane. We sipped Americanos before walking over to Zion Adventure Company to hash out a plan for our time in the park. A man from South Carolina welcomed us into the shop, and told us all about Charleston (our end destination) to get us pumped for our trip. He explained the multiple options for excursions in Zion, and we decided that we were most interested in hiking the Narrows, a world-famous river hike that winds through narrow canyon walls. That would be saved for the next day, however, as our muscles were still feeling the impact of our last ride.

We headed back to the campground to pack up and to see if we could find a campsite inside the national park. We paid the entrance fee and checked out the first-come, first-serve campground, which was completely full. Unsure of how to find a sleeping spot, we wandered aimlessly on our bikes before running into a man who instantly offered his site to share. He was a bit odd, and after a full day of talking with him, we still never found out his name. We asked multiple times, but the conversation always seemed to divert—which sketched us out a bit… oh well. He asked us to pay for the site, which we were of course willing to do, but he then informed us that he would spend our money on beer—and he didn’t share. We justified his weirdness, since at least we had a place to sleep for the night, but commented that never in our right minds would we ever charge someone the full price for a campsite that we were sharing, nor would we tell them that we were going to spend their money on alcohol. Especially when they are poor college graduates. But hey… whatever…

The man later pointed out a bulge in Slater’s tire that we hadn’t noticed. We rode into town to a little bike shop called Zion Cycles, and two friendly bearded men helped us out. They sold Slater a new tire (unfortunately, they couldn’t give him the warranty on his ruined tire since they weren’t Specialized dealers) and changed his tube in record time, making us look like absolute fools—but they were nice about it. We took a couple stickers from the store to slap on our bikes since we’re quite fond of their town and shop, and we rode back to the campsite to catch a shuttle up the canyon.

While touring Zion National Park via shuttle, our exhaustion hit, even though we weren’t even exercising. We felt a bit brain dead, and therefore decided to leave activities for the next day, when we would have a bit more energy. We saw some astonishing sights from the foggy windows of a tourist-filled bus, and agreed on exerting a bit more effort in the morning. A trip back into town took us to Meme’s Café, which as opposed to the night before, had the best service yet and delicious food. We ordered Southwest salads with pulled pork and zesty cilantro dressing (yum), plus a banana nutella crepe, because that was super necessary. We walked through town and made one more stop at Zion Adventure Company to rent our gear for hiking the Narrows the next day. They sat us down to watch a safety and instructional video for the hike, then fitted us with water socks, canyoneering shoes, a backpack, dry bag, and walking stick for the river hike. We signed a waiver and checked out, then lugged our gear back to camp.

Upon arrival at the site, we noticed a monstrous squirrel sitting atop the rocks by our bikes. I commented on how “cute and chubby” the little guy was as he scurried away, frightened by our presence. I then looked down at my panniers (saddlebags), and noticed an entire colony of ants swarming one of the bags. It was laying on the ground, a bit emptier than usual, with a pile of shelled sunflower seeds covering it. Pretty sure those seeds used to be insiiiiiide my bag… I thought, before I noticed it: a gaping hole chewed through my vinyl pannier. It was huge, about the size of that monstrous bastard squirrel that I thought was “adorable” just a few seconds before. He had eaten my bag, my seeds, my wasabi almonds (I’m sure his mouth was on fire), but had skipped the Slim Jims… why? I was pissed, to say the least. Those bags cost about a month’s rent and aren’t easy to replace, so I pouted for about a half an hour before finally laughing at the situation and snapping a few photos for memories. We made one last stop at the convenience store to grab duct tape (the fixer-upper of choice) and to stock up on snacks for our hike in the morning. Slate mended my bag for me, which now looks “loved,” as I like to say, and we snored ourselves to sleep in our tent once again.