Angels Envy

Update: the trail up to the chains is actually the Erat Tim Trail. Not Angels Landing, which is ONLY the chain climb to the top.

Today was the day we were originally questioning whether or not we should attempt the “Breathtaking but Deadly” hike. The photos online lead you to believe you might need a screw loose to hike up Angels Landing. My colleague’s wife, after seeing these pics asked “is she an extreme athlete or just nuts?” You’ve seen images of me — we can all rest soundly knowing I’m not the former. Given how much my excitement grew the days prior to leaving, it’s safe to say I have a chip missing.

The trail to Angels Landing is 2.5 miles long with an approximate 1,500 feet elevation gain. (Read: vertical enough in places towards the top.) Every blog goes on and on about how extremely difficult, scary, and strenuous it is. By the time you’ve read a handful of these, you think it’s going to take all damn day to scale the thing. Well we’re gonna truth talk here. (Remember though. I have a screw loose and a chip missing. I’m not going to recommend this to someone who hasn’t worked out in years,)

First, let’s start with what else the blogs say. Everything you read (and I read plenty) says the trail “starts at the grotto trailhead.” So you’d think you’d go to the grotto trailhead right? We did.

Now listen, Linda. We both work very hard at our jobs. Vacation makes us dumb. 12 minutes in, we see the visitors center and realized we’d done something very very wrong. No wonder literally no one else was on the trail. So we turned around, 12 minutes back.

There we realize the entrance to the trail is across the street, over a bridge, crossing the river. Not mentioned on a single blog.

Do you think the shuttle driver told us? No. Apparently it was way more important to make sure we knew there were mountain lions nowhere near us but there were rabid chipmunks so don’t feed them. Also, with a van full of people, half of them afraid about the climb, he also took the opportunity went to tell us about all the people who tumbled to their deaths on this climb. Cool.

And quite possibly the most aggravating part. You know those impossible to get shuttle tickets from the government site? Yeah. Those puppies ran nearly empty every time we saw one. Your government at work folks!

Ok. The good stuff. The trail starts out completely unintimidating, yet ghosts of Machu Picchu past quickly crept in. As did the unforgettable memory of not being able to breathe ascending the series of switchbacks. I sent Jenny on her way. (It turns out if you try to keep pace with a jacked and eager to get to the top 20 something, you’re a great spokesperson for Symbicort.

Feeling my age and tasting my humble pie, I remembered slow and steady wins the race. So I let the people in flip flops and boat shoes pass by, checked my annoyance over the Instagram photo sessions, and plodded up switchback after switchback. And you know what? 95% of the climb is switchbacks. That’s it. Yet again, no one ever mentions this. You’re led to believe this will take hours. I completed it in 45 minutes, not without sounding like a mouth-breathing philistine, and Jenny ascended in 25.

The initial landing was a beautiful spot. This is where most people turn back, skipping the last 1/2 mile to the summit which requires using the industrial chains anchored into the side of the peak. The landing is a satisfying wide open space for everyone, (unless you are afraid of heights), with sweeping views of the canyon inspiring enough to quit your job. So go. Don’t let the chains and deaths stop you from this first part. If you can hike an incline, it’s an absolute must. (And it won’t take all day.)

It was the next feat that brought out the “no way-ers”, which only spurred us on all the more. As close to a vertical climb as I will ever get? Check. Chains anchored into rock to pull yourself up? I’ve done this before. Footholds worn smooth from overuse and therefore slippery? Been there. Done that. (All up Hyuana Picchu.) But the thin layers of rock that create barely-there, pitched foot pads with room enough for only one foot in front of the other, Egyptian style? Ok. That one was new. It was like walking on a fanned out deck of cards.

There were no death defying slips or second guessing our decision. You see, stuff like this is the ultimate in being present for me. In the moment. Concentrating on where my foot goes, ensuring it’s secure and stable. No time for fear. (That’s the ‘what if’ in the future.) No time to worry about anyone who already fell to their death. (That’s fear of the past that can’t change.) So maybe I’m not missing a chip. I just need to figure out how to live this way every day.

Plenty of photo ops were had. Back in the hotel looking at our summit pics, all I could think was “who’s that dude with Jenny?” Yeah. That’s me. Not my best looking day. Meanwhile, all the girls were taking off their ball caps and tossing their long silky hair, perfect for the Gram. Jenny even took a moment to do her very best (and hilarious) Ariel move (minus the crashing waves.) And me? I looked like the state of Nevada.

The walk down was way more enjoyable than the haul up. At least this time I could keep pace with Jenny going downhill. And you know. Breathing. It was all encouragement and “you can do it!” for the people just starting out. When talking with a super fun group of late 20s hikers on their way up, one of the girls was feeling uncertain. So I said “look, if I can do it, you can do it.” The guys were a little too impressed by that. “All the way to the top? Wow! Good for you!” I stopped liking them immediately.

We walked by a young couple who may have completed three or four of the 21 switchbacks and she was crying. Ultimately we decided she was likely afraid of heights. That’s legit and terrible and they headed back down. It gave us the opportunity to talk about “have you ever been so physically spent that you wanted to cry? Jenny: Yes! About 3/4 the way up Longs Peak (a fourteener and the highest point in Rocky Mountain National Park). Me: Yep me too. One time on a stationary bike with the resistance too high. That’s the same.

Still wondering if this is for you? If you are prone to vertigo, that would be a big fat no. Scared of heights? Stay on the shuttle. For the summit, all the above x10. If you are lacking upper body strength? Stay at the first landing and claim you went up Angels Landing (because basically you did.)

For everyone else: Straight out of the mouth of my “I can do 8 chin ups OR pull ups” physically annoying niece Jenny, “The switchbacks are intense, I’m not gonna lie.” So if that’s NBD for you, if you like doing dumb things and you’re a little crazy, get your stupid-decision fix on and hustle on up to Angels Landing.

INJURY UPDATE: Chaffed ankles. Boots too tight. Socks too short.