Same Place, Two Seasons, Completely Different Adventures

Pleased. When I get attached to a place, I tend to revisit it. A lot. One of the good things about revisiting a favored location is being able to get to know it's trails and roads very well, better than someone just passing through, or worse, someone who's just seeing it from the window of a car. Another distinct advantage of revisiting is going on the same trail multiple times, in multiple seasons, to get different perspectives of the exact same place. I had the bright idea to go to Utah's southern deserts on the Colorado Plateau in the smack-dab middle of winter, purely to get a different desert experience from the one I usually get when I visit in the summer and fall, and it turned out far better than I'd dared to hope. Sure, I got sick, and yes, I ran into several blizzards and closed roads and inaccessible trails, but going to the desert in winter allowed me to see places I've seen before in an entirely new light, as if I were visiting for the first time. 

The Virgin River and Zion Canyon during summer

One of the most iconic "trails" in Zion National Park is the Riverside Walk, which becomes the upriver hike to the famous Narrows section of the Virgin River encased in Zion Canyon. I've walked that trail multiple times, in both summer and fall, and slogged through the chilly river as far as my numb feet would take me. I love the soaring rusty cliffs that gradually narrow in on you, the desert waterfalls where I enviously watched climbers rappel down, and the rocky, sandy river bottom that swirls around your feet as you struggle upstream. Of course, all of this occured in the warm months of the year, where a cool dip in the river is a welcome respite from the oven that is Zion Canyon. In the winter, however, things are different.

Hanging gardens in the summer

Winter's hanging gardens

Sure, the cliffs and the waterfalls and the river are all still there, but the green that thrives along the life-giving corridor is absent, as are the crowds. With no leaves on the trees the width of the canyon becomes evident and you begin to wonder exactly how a tiny little river, not even a deep one for most of the year, came to carve such an impressive canyon. You could throw a stone from one bank to the other (not that you should!) and have plenty of room to spare on the far side. Perhaps it's the perennial presence of the water, forever pushing grains of sand and giant boulders downriver, scouring the canyon just a little bit deeper and a little bit wider as it goes. 

Green nearly dominates the canyon during summer

During winter, wildlife sightings are common in the lower canyon

The lack of crowds on the paved, handicapped accessible walk was a huge perk to visiting Zion in the winter, lending itself to a quiet that I've never experienced on that river. The soft and constant drizzle, threatening to turn into real rain, most likely contributed to the stillness on the walk. The solitude provided rewards in the form of a leisurely stroll, and coming around a corner to find a herd of deer grazing along the side of the path. There is no way they would have been close enough to touch during the high-volume traffic of summer. 

Shaded path and the hanging gardens of Zion Canyon in summertime 

Nearly the same photo, taken in a totally diffrent season

On the downside, the final quarter of the paved path was closed to foot traffic due to icicles dangling off the hanging garden walls, meaning you either detoured down near the river itself, or turned around. A thin pebble beach extends along the Virgin River for a ways, but eventually you'll have to enter the river proper to continue upstream. I don't know about you, but entering an ice-cold desert river during January doesn't sound appealing. I personally descended onto the beach, and walked back to the parking lot alongside the Virgin River, taking my time and contemplating Zion during winter. I'm pretty sure I'll be back.