Day Nineteen: Zion National Park (Unwanted Rest Day)

This day was an interesting one, to say the least. We packed up our bikes quickly in the morning, preparing for an early ride out of Zion National Park. Being the creatures of habit that we are, we stopped in for what we thought would be one last stop at Deep Creek Coffee. Spoiler Alert……….. it wasn’t.

While sipping deep mugs of coffee, we sent emails, browsed the web for things happening in the world, and put together our first video full of GoPro footage, which ended up taking over three hours. So despite our intentions of heading out bright and early, we were in for a late checkout. As time passed, we noticed increasing amounts of customers flocking to the coffee shop, wary of grey skies. Soon enough, clouds hovered threateningly over the town, and we made the final decision to wait out the storm. It was the whole shebang: rain, hail, thunder, you name it. By 3 o’clock, we knew we’d lost our chance and grumpily accepted the fact that we would have to stay another night. Don’t get me wrong; Zion was amazing—but waiting around meant spending more time and money.

Our last-minute decision to stay the night had us in a pinch; all of the campsites were full, and hotels in town boasted rates of over $200/night. Thankfully, just days before, we befriended a young couple and their two kiddos who offered to share their campsite for the night and welcomed us with plenty of room for tenting and setting up hammocks. Before turning in for the night, we killed more time around Springdale, overstaying our welcome at café after café, stopping at the market for groceries, and drinking a total of at least five cups of coffee each. Back at the site, we cooked bowtie pasta and apples with peanut butter for a hearty meal while we chatted with Cody, the dad of the family, about his college days and travels. Darkness came quickly, and despite the temperamental weather that afternoon, the evening was glorious with clear skies and bright stars.

And that’s when we made the brilliant decision to sleep in hammocks. Just as a precursor, I’d like to note that my lunch that day cost $6.66. If that isn’t a bad omen, I don’t know what is. Anyways, we strapped our slinging beds to trees that were just barely strong enough to withstand our body weight and tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags three feet above the ground. It took a while to fall asleep, but the smell of nearby campfires and the subtle chirping of crickets comforted us in the chilly air. As my eyes fell heavier, I peeked at the stars, which were brighter than usual—then I noticed a faint flash in the distance. It was so subdued that I believed it might be a camera going off in a far away campsite. False.

Minutes later, I was startled awake by a flash of lightning that lingered in my sight as I felt the first few plops of rain. I awkwardly shuffled into an upright position to yell across the way, “SLATE!!!”

-“Do you feel that too?!” he yelled. Instantly, we regretted not setting up the tent.

Pouring down rain spattered across our faces within seconds, and we sprinted toward our bikes to grab our gear. We searched frantically in the pitch black for the parts and pieces to set up shelter, then threw it together quicker than we ever knew possible. Unfortunately, as it goes, the tent must go up before the rain fly—meaning that the inside was soaking wet, as were our sleeping bags, sleeping pads, and the clothes on our backs. We were joined by earwigs galore, a few fire ants, and critters we don’t even want to think about. We cursed like sailors before giving in to a night of frequently interrupted sleep.