Behunin just sounds like a big canyon, and it definitely was. Many people come to Zion to do the Angel’s Landing hike. It is thought to be extremely strenuous and nerve-wracking. We had to do this hike on the way to the canyon. Well, kind of. We had to climb to Scout’s Landing, which involved a series of 27 switchbacks called “Walter’s Wiggles.”
From there, it was just another half mile to Angel’s Landing, so we thought, why not? This was another hike where I started off feeling great. I had the song “Tongue-Tied” on repeat on my iPod and was just so happy as I was hiking. A lot of people freak out about the exposed hiking along the trail, where a chain is provided for you to hang onto. (I think there’s a 1000 foot drop on each side of you; you’re hiking out onto a little peninsula.) Canyoneering has gotten me so used to heights and exposed climbs that this wasn’t even a big deal. People were definitely giving us funny looks as they clung to the chain and we just bounced past them.
This little detour was definitely worth it. The site was breath-taking. We walked out onto a ledge, away from the crowd, and just stood there admiring the view. I was thinking to myself that Angel’s Landing was an appropriate name, because I could just imagine angel’s hanging out here, when my fanciful meditation was interrupted by a rude bodily function from Jason. Rather than be ashamed, he compared the sound to an angel’s trumpet resounding through the canyon. Way to ruin my moment, jerk.
We hung out for a while and posed for some pictures, but Jason warned us there was still a lot of hiking to do, so off we went. On the way back, I offered pep talks to exhausted hikers, trying to encourage them and let them know it was worth it. But Jason wasn’t kidding about the rest of the hike. My high from Angel’s Landing soon faded. It was in the vicinity of Little Sahara that I once again thought I was going to die. All my energy was gone. Even the Gu wasn’t doing anything for me. It was 100 degrees and there was no shade to be found. There were actually a few times where I just plopped down in the middle of the trail to rest, not even bothering to look for shade or a nice rock to sit on. I thought we were never going to get there.
(Little Sahara)
(I think I am the little speck way at the bottom...)
Eventually, we dropped into a drainage. But we still weren’t in Behunin! We scrambled across steep slickrock slopes and crashed through brush. Finally, we reached a rappel, the first in a series of four that would take us 500 feet down into the canyon. I have to say, as someone who loves rappelling, I was even over it by the end of this canyon. There were so many of them. And Jason usually goes down first, leaving Kristin and I to bicker over whether my device is loaded correctly.
(“It doesn’t look right,” I insist.
“Honey, it’s fine.”
“No, look, because when I’m on this side of the rope, and my brake hand’s here… and look, it doesn’t make the horseshoe!”
Sigh… “You’re right.”
I fumble with my ATC. Kristin gets impatient and takes over. “It’s this stupid ATC!” Kristin is annoyed that I don’t use a Figure 8 like her. I know it’s easier to tie off on one of those, but I feel like I get more friction on the ATC and I’m more comfortable with it.
We spend several minutes trying to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it.
“Red rover, red rover, send Erin right over!” Jason yells from the bottom, wondering what the heck we’re doing.
“Okay, that’s right,” Kristin says.
“I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel right.”
“It’s right, I promise.”
“This is so not right.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s right.”
“I don’t think so…” I say as I start over the edge.
And that is a typical Kristin/Erin interaction in a canyon.)
At one of the other rappels, Jason yells up to Kristin to throw him the rope bag.
“Um, you really don’t want me to do that,” she says.
“What??”
“I’m not good at throwing things.”
“Oh come on, just throw it!”
“Don’t do it, Kristin,” I jump in. I have never heard Kristin say she’s not good at something. I am nervous what will happen if she throws it.
“Do it!!” Jason yells. Kristin aims and throws. The bag completely misses its mark and lands in a pothole above Jason.
“Told you!” she exclaims. Now she has to figure out a way to maneuver over to the pothole and retrieve the bag. There is much cursing involved, which is rare for Kristin. Jason scrambles up to help, and they are able to get the rope. In the process, they discover hundreds of little canyon frogs in the pothole, which they agree made the whole ordeal worth it.
At long last, we do the final rappel into the canyon. “Welcome to Behunin,” Jason greets me at the bottom.
And the canyon is beautiful. There are narrow sections that provide Mother Nature’s version of AC; we were so relieved to be out of the sun.
(Enjoying the AC)
There were several more rappels, including this one, which nearly gave me a nervous breakdown. The anchor was really low, and I felt like there wasn’t much to hang onto. Jason had me on belay from below, and Kristin helped me up above, but it was awful. “You realize I am completely terrified right now,” I said. “We know,” they replied. And then, when I finally got over that obstacle, I had to figure out how to get around the disgusting pothole at the bottom of the rappel. Jason successfully bypassed it, but informed us that, the last time he did this canyon, his best friend hadn’t been able to. I thought I was totally screwed. But I somehow managed that maneuver, too. When I got to the bottom, I threw my arms around Jason and he laughed because he could feel me shaking. But that was definitely my proudest moment of the day; overcoming fear is great feeling.
(Look how low the anchor is!!)
(Avoiding the pothole)
(Jason belaying at the bottom)
Not only do Kristin and I argue about rappels, we also argue about downclimbing. I swear, she has the patience of a saint.
"Kristin, how should I do this?"
"I don't know, honey, you can do whatever you like."
I hate when she says this! It gets that stupid song in my head.
"Well, how did you do it?"
Kristin explains.
"But I can't reach that foothold!"
"I know, because I'm taller than you. So you're going to have to find what works for you."
I sit there, considering my options.
Kristin tries to help. "There's a foothold right here..." she says, moving my foot.
"Aaah! Don't touch my foot! I'm going to fall!"
She takes her hands away. "Okay, well, put your foot there."
"But you don't understand! Then my weight's leaning this way, and I'm just going to fall on my face!"
"Then I don't know what to tell you," she says, exasperated.
Meanwhile, around the corner, Jason is laughing his ass off and capturing the moment on film.
After many, many hours, we reached the end of the canyon, a 200 foot rock star rappel. (It’s called rock star because you’ll probably have an audience.) In this case, it was day hikers checking out the Emerald Pools. So we hooted and hollered and put on a big show as we went down. I didn’t see anyone at the bottom, but Jason said that, from the top, he could see a whole bunch of people taking pictures of us. I kinda like that I will be in random people’s family vacation pictures.
We had hoped that this would mark the end of our hike, but there was still more left to do. At this point, we were dying of thirst because a certain someone did not bring enough water with him, so Kristin and I had shared ours and now we were all out. We hiked for a few minutes, then came to a blockade.
Seriously? Our exit trail is closed? Well, too f-ing bad. If they didn’t want us there, they should have told us when we picked up the permit. So we poached yet another area.
(On the way back, I made Jason pose for this picture... He just looks like such a bad-ass...)
Finally, the Zion Lodge was in site. I practically took off running through the grass, fantasizing about the three pitchers of water I was going to order at the restaurant.
We showed up at the classy restaurant dirty, sweaty, and dehydrated. We’d been hiking for 12 hours. The waiter did not seem to appreciate our state, but he did bring us multiple pitchers of water.
After hydrating properly, we took the shuttle back to the visitor center. The bus driver questioned us about our adventures, and the other passengers stared wide-eyed at us and our gear. An unpleasant surprise greets us back at my car- one of my tires is completely flat. “Seriously?” we say. And Jason gets to work changing my tire.
After all this, our day was still not over. We headed back to camp to shower and change, then went out to party at Wildcat Willie’s, where all the locals hang out and sing truly awful (yet highly entertaining) karaoke. By the time we got back to camp, Kristin was ready for bed, but Jason and I were still going, so we watched Predator in the back of my Subaru. The perfect end to the perfect day.
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