A Trip Highlight of Zion and Bryce Canyon

I’ve been missing the outdoors a lot lately. And I don’t mean the beaches in SoCal, I’m talking staring up at mountains that put into perspective just how small you really are. So instead of enjoying the 70 degree weather at home for my week off, we packed up and drove 7 hours to 30 degree Utah.

After running the half marathon in Sedona last February, I fell in love with the red rock landscape. That was when I made a mental note to eventually visit Zion National Park. 

From my not so extensive research, I discovered that January is Zion’s off season. This meant few crowds, cold weather, and free for all on parking. Zion is known to have shuttles during high season that take you from the town of Springdale throughout the park. This is said to aid in congestion and noise within the park. In Winter however, these shuttles don’t run because of the limited visitors so you have to look for parking at the trailheads. We knew we would have to leave early for this because if we didn’t find a spot, there weren’t any shuttles that could take us.

Zion Day 1

Our first full day in Zion, we left our Airbnb in Hurricane at 6am to get to the park by sunrise for parking. We wanted to make this a large hiking day, so I downloaded the AllTrails maps for Scout Lookout, Emerald Pools, and Watchmen Trail. Unsure of the trail conditions, we didn’t get an Angels Landing permit and chose to hike to Scout Lookout. We were pleased to arrive at an empty parking lot and get an early start to our day. Feeling extremely out of shape, we took in the overcast views of the red rocks and bare winter branches.

We shared the trail with maybe 6 other hikers throughout the day and found a lot of privacy when we made our way through Walters Wiggles to the lookout point. Luckily, we could take in the view of Angels Landing and the canyons without fighting off crows that would surely be there in summer. As we made our way back down, we hopped on the connecting Kayenta Trail to Emerald Pools.

Emerald Pools

I found Emerald Pools to be underwhelming. My favorite view on the trail wasn’t even a pool itself, but the massive rocks in the background coming down from the upper pool. The lower pool has a waterfall that you could walk underneath which was pretty neat to see, although I feel it would have been prettier in summer with the sunshine out. The middle pool was uphill from there and was not very thrilling with Jacob pointing out, “we have this in San Ramon.” The upper pool was about 0.3 miles from the middle and consisted of a large waterfall. While the upper pool was more worth the steps, we ranked the hike at the bottom of our list for the trip.

As we made our way back down to the parking lot, we were surprised to see a full parking lot with cars circling for spots. To our amazement, the trailhead filled up in the time we were off hiking. I can’t imagine what it must be like in their peak season if spots were filling up like this in the winter. We finished the day on the Watchmen Trail after parking at the visitor’s center and were greeted with stunning expansive views of the canyons and low crowds. At this point, it was 2pm and we had already hiked 15 miles for the day. We forced our sore legs back down the rocks and ended with a hot tub at our Airbnb. Tomorrow was going to be quite the adventure.

Zion Day 2

After reviewing the weather for the week, we decided our Zion experience wouldn’t be complete without a little risk through the Narrows.

We rented our gear from Zion Outfitters which included canyoneering boots, neoprene socks, dry bibs, dry sack, and large wooden sticks. After forcing Jacob out of bed again at 5am, we made our way to another empty parking lot at the Temple of Sinawava Trailhead. The biggest risk with the narrows is the potential for a flash flood.

The weather showed no warnings for the day and the ranger the previous day had assured us that although cold, there was no inclement weather until later that night. We made our way down the Riverwalk trail in our busty gear at 8am and saw the flash flood warning sign that read “probable.” Cursing as we made our way down the river, we hoped to run into other crazy people who were planning on experiencing this canyon. We eventually met a couple who spoke to a ranger that morning and said the river rpm was down by 10 from the previous day, now at 68, and gave them the go ahead.

There’s always risk associated with hiking the narrows, it’s just about whether or not you want to take it. We decided to take it. 

Trudging Through

As we began our hike into the river, we felt the water overtake our shoes. We knew this water must be freezing, but the neoprene socks kept our feet warm. We trudged along bank to bank, stopping to admire the canyon along the way. The caves in the canyon, height of the rock walls, and curves that lead on miles downstream. It was like an adult’s playground.

The water would hit our ankles, then our calves, then rise suddenly to our waist with certain steps. Making us meticulously plan out where to step along the way. We made it a decent way down the narrows, fighting strong currents and yanking our wooden sticks out of rock crevices, before we heard thunder and decided to turn back for more adventures and abort the risk. 

It was so peaceful in the narrows and such a fun challenge to wade upstream, I can only imagine how refreshing (and busy) it must be in the summer. I was surprised at how warm our gear kept us and how much fun we really had walking through.

It was 11am by the time we made it back to the car and I convinced Jacob the trip wouldn’t be complete without the 2 hour drive over to Bryce Canyon.

Bryce Canyon

The road to Bryce Canyon National Park takes you through Zion and Dixie National Forest, so the drive doesn’t truly feel that lengthy. I was awestruck at the change in scenery only 2 hours away, for now the mountains in the distance were covered in snow.

As we approached the national park entrance, I saw no Hoodoos in sight. Just barren trees and snowy banks. Skeptical, we paid the fee and continued on to Sunset Point. As we peered over the edge of the Rim Trail, we were greeted by miles of snow covered Hoodoos with their fierce red tops shining through. This instantly became one of my favorite places. All I wanted was to be down there walking amongst the rocks, admiring their size.

Roadblock

I went to start the Navajo Loop, but was disappointed to see it had been closed (later research showed that this loop closes in the Winter due to hazardous conditions). With a shitty mood, I peered over the edge one last time and saw people amongst the rocks in the distance! I pulled out my map and figured they must be coming through the Sunrise Point side. We got in our car and drove to the other point and sure enough, Queens Garden was open and would lead us amongst these rocks.

We made our way down the muddiest trail I’ve ever been on, and I had the time of my life. The mud collected on the bottom of our shoes and felt like we had ankle weights driving each step down. We carefully made our way amongst the rising Hoodoos, admiring the natural arches in rocks along the path. I was surprised at how many people were out on this trail in January as the elevation sits higher than Zion and welcomes more snow. Nonetheless, everyone we passed had a huge smile on their face that mirrored our own, just grateful to be able to witness the beauty that rose around us.

As we made our way back, shoes completely totaled from the mud, I took one last look down at the red around me. Winter was such a magical time to visit this park as the white really parallels the immense beauty of the red.

Emotional Outburst

This trip was the peaceful getaway I needed before life starts to pick up again. I continue to be amazed by the sheer beauty the world allows me to see. One of my resolutions for the year was to get outside more. To prioritize real hikes when I have the time off. While there’s a time and place for vacation travel, I want to be lost in the mountains. Staring up at peaks and asking all the philosophical questions that come with. 

I can’t wait to see what mountains I will hike this year and so grateful to have started the year off with two crowd less national parks. Although it is definitely colder to hike in the off season, it allows you to truly experience a place without outside triggers.

Washington Outlook

I never fully realized how pivotal moving to Washington at 18 would be for my character development. I had been on hikes before the move, but it was never my first choice. Yeah I thought nature was cool, but I never understood why people made it their whole personality. Why people spent hours suffering up an incline just for minutes of a viewpoint. And then I moved to Bellingham, WA. What a shock that was. I was surrounded by people who seemed to have Tourette’s with their additions to the English language such as “stoke” and “shredding the gnar.” And then something strange happened. I started actually enjoying my time outside and making it a bigger priority in my life.

Fast forward to 2025 and going on my first big backpacking trip. Backpacking was never something I envisioned myself doing until I started getting mountain withdrawals. Being in Southern California has its perks, but I miss how close the mountains used to be and how accessible hikes were in Washington. When I got invited on a backpacking trip in the Canadian Rockies, it seemed to be exactly what I needed. An endless mountain range, refreshing company, and anxiety inducing hikes.

Lake Louise and Lake Moraine

We hadn’t planned on seeing the famous lakes of Banff until we got there and were staying at the Lake Louise campground. We were practically in their backyard, it felt wrong not to play tourist. Unfortunately you can’t drive to the lakes, so we got shuttle tickets last minute thanks to those late cancelations.

Lake Louise was stunning, but Moraine was the main event. The water a shade so blue I never thought I’d see in a lake. I could’ve stared at the water all day if it weren’t for the swarms of families interrupting the peace (not their fault). I wonder if the lake wished it could get out of there as fast as we did. With it being August, I don’t know why I expected any less of a crowd.

Backcountry Beginnings

Now came the time for the backcountry shenanigans. Bear spray and mosquito net secured, we made our way to our first campsite in Yoho National Park. It was so freeing to lose service and pay attention to the details around you. The wind blowing through the trees, the birds cursing us out, the sound of thunder so close you couldn’t question if it was there.

Waking up to a thunderstorm wasn’t on my bingo card for the trip, but it was surprisingly peaceful despite the possibility of getting struck by lightning through the loosely secured tent. It averaged one thunderstorm a day while we were there so eventually we could time out the day to avoid getting stuck in the rain. But when nature calls, she’s going to make you listen.

Iceline Trail

The hike along the Iceline trail offered stunning views of glaciers as well as the beginning of a long day of trekking with my ridiculously overpacked backpack. The awe never seemed to leave me as I took my pick between the waterfalls, the glaciers, or the forest down below the elevation. I was completely content and so grateful for the privilege of experiencing that landscape.

Our sunshine was cut short as we heard thunder in the distance and knew we had to take cover back in the trees. At the moment, we were the tallest objects on that mountain and were prey to the lightning sure to come. We picked up the pace to Camp Yoho as we made our way back into the tree line and out of immediate exposure.

As the sky greyed above, we sought shelter in the Stanley Mitchell Hut an hour before the rain washed our footprints away. We played cards and spoke to fellow travelers while we waited for the sun to find its way back through the clouds. In an effort to not waste the rest of the day, we hiked through the fresh mud behind the hut to one of the best views of the trip. The contrasting white of the mountains against the dark green Christmas trees will forever be engrained in my mind.

Tent Ridge

Our last hike of the trip was in Canmore on our way back to Calgary. This was the hike that pushed me even more than our backcountry exploring.

Tent Ridge offered panoramic views that left me breathless beyond the hike itself. This hike was recommended by an artist at the Banff farmers market. She just so happened to leave out the part where you are practically rock climbing on an exposed cliff. For some reason, I thought scrambling just meant kicking away at loose rocks. Oh how wrong I was. Scrambling is quite literally hiking on an exposed cliff edge. You are scrambling to get up using any means possible to not fall to your death and give your parents an unwanted phone call.

Was I panicking when I was doing it? Let’s just say my fight or flight was activated. However, I’m so happy I didn’t turn around and let my fear beat me out of this incredible view. Even as much as I love being outside, I still get freaked out by unfamiliar hikes. What matters is the mindset you have while taking it on. I only became anxious because I was allowing my mind to take me to the worst places. I was focusing on the drop below, the continued rock scramble ahead, and my inexperience with this terrain. Instead I should’ve been focusing on the short amount of scramble I had left, the experienced women with me, and the views I was sure to get at the top. I was so proud of myself when I finally got past my fear of falling and negative self talk.

The views at the top of the ridge look to be straight out of NatGeo and I couldn’t believe what my eyes were witnessing. Even though the wind and rain were pummeling me, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. We ate, soaked it in, and then got soaked as we made our way back getting whipped by the gripping wind. The path down was much easier than the scramble up and I was in so much awe of the journey. 

We get so caught up with what could go wrong that we forget to focus on the present moment and recognize our strengths. I am so grateful to have people in my life who push me to see my limits and test them. From river jumping, to hut poaching, to panic attacks I’m so grateful for the adventure this trip brought. It’s been five months since and I still think about how badly I wish I could be back waking up to the songs of nature in the morning. To start my morning with no timeline, no reminders, no responsibility. Just me, good company, and my lush green playground.

A Tale of Willing Isolation

This year was my first Thanksgiving I spent completely alone. No family, no friends, no traditions to uphold. Just me, the ocean and my 35 year old driver trying to get me to go home with him. Although this day was exactly what I was going for when I booked this last minute trip (minus the driver), I couldn’t help but wonder if this is what my adult holidays were going to look like from now on. I am getting more comfortable with my own company and with that comes the fear of pushing people away because I mentally am capable of being content when they’re gone.

Traveling solo brings up A LOT of conversations you don’t necessarily want to have with yourself, but need to in order to be fully honest with yourself. I have a lot to be thankful for this year, my ability to self reflect being one of them.

So What Was I Expecting?

I don’t know what I was expecting from the Bahamas, but it was very different from the impressions it left me. Upon clearing customs in NAS, which was a suuuper easy process, I started looking for transportation options from the airport. On my phone it only showed walking directions, no public transit which was very shocking to me. I asked the transportation desk what the best option was for transportation to my place on West Bay Street and if they would recommend walking there. The woman helping me out strongly advised it was unwalkable and I had to take a taxi home. This was problematic for me as I would usually rather walk an hour or use public buses than deal with the scam of taxi companies.

After about five minutes arguing with the driver over a price and drop off location, I told him to just take me to Love Beach and I’ll figure it out from there. In my head, Love Beach was relatively close to my airbnb. In reality, it was a 40 minute walk after the driver ushered me out of the car on the side of the road. Only a 15 minute difference than if I would have just walked from the airport. I spent the next 40 minutes wondering if I should have been more direct or if the driver just had absolutely no interest in helping me out.

It’s crazy how much I rely on google maps because maps were practically unusable in the Bahamas. Typing specific addresses in maps in Nassau will lead to the completely wrong place so you have to have a general idea of the area you’ll be in.

First Day Hospitality

Day one was a bit of a culture shock for me. I thought for an English speaking country I’d have an easier time fitting in, but I stuck out more than I did as an American in Paris. Perhaps it was my pale skin from the lack of Washington sun. Or maybe that I was comfortable walking alongside the road instead of using a taxi service to get places. Either way, as I mourned my moldy raviolis and ate my protein bar and shake for dinner, I thought about how much more isolated I felt here already than any other trip.

Then began my tour on day two…

Who’s The Dirtier Animal in The Water- Me or The Pig?

Swimming with the pigs is a Bahamas tourism staple.

Is it the cleanest thing to do? Most definitely not.

This was probably the weirdest tour I’ve ever booked and coincidentally the only tour I’ve actually ever made. I have a history of abandonment with tour companies abroad, or maybe it’s just my lack of an internal compass for the meet up points. Either way, I was so relieved J&S Tours was so on top of communication to make sure they accounted for everyone who booked. The owner (and later personal driver) Jungle even confessed to having waited outside someone’s hostel for 30 minutes to ensure they didn’t miss out on the experience. I greatly valued this because tours are damn expensive and people who don’t have the luxury of a lot of money to blow are highly selective with their experiences.

Upon pickup, I met a wonderful woman from Germany named Steffi who became my friend and as I would later discover, guardian angel. Steffi and I conversed about our travels and what brought us to the same place. She inspired me a lot as someone in her late 50s still finding the freedom and inspiration to discover all things human and unknown.

Rose Island or Poop Island?

At the dock, Jungle and his sidekick TJ picked us up and bantered the way back home.  Apparently it isn’t normal to walk distances longer than 7 minutes in the Bahamas. And honking your horn is a way of saying “hello” not “fuck you.” Jungle insisted next time I needed to get to a destination, to call him to come get me. This was the first time I felt a sense of welcoming from the Bahamian people.

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My last full day in Nassau was spent discovering the places that aren’t advertised. Let me explain…

Fox Hill, Bahamas

I wanted to take an outdoor martial arts class at a studio I won’t name because maybe they are reputable and I’m just a wimp.

Once Jungle picks me up and looks at the address he goes, “Oh so you wanna go to the ghettooo.”

Of course I’m like, “fuck off, just take me there.”

Right….Wrong

The farther we drive, the more broken down the area becomes. Windows knocked in, holes in walls, some real Central Valley stuff. He wasn’t joking. We stop in front of a broken down shack that’s supposed to be the “studio.” To the right lies what used to be a house. To the left lies people smoking something fun and looking at us threateningly. Onwards Jungle and I go. Away from the gym and towards more familiar zones. This area was, you guessed it, Fox Hill.

So I spent the rest of the day at Sandyport Beach getting hit on by Jungle, proposed to by his son, and eating Thanksgiving pizza and mojitos at Twisted Lime to pass the time.

Deck For One, Please

I booked this trip with hopes of escaping from reality and being engulfed by nature and in pure isolation. This is exactly what I got with my airbnb. A private deck with water access I didn’t have to share with anyone. Sun setting for what seemed to my eyes only and waves outperforming thoughts in my head. So maybe I had a quieter version of the Bahamas than what some people might have, but I think that’s exactly what I needed. It’s exactly what a lot of people need.

 As I danced in the ocean my last night at my deck, I craved for more.

More romanticizing of solo trips, more time in the present, more love for the person I am becoming and the person I used to be.

The Most Unwelcoming Hello and Hardest Goodbye

Saying goodbye to the solitude I had there was probably one of the most difficult goodbyes so far. I am grateful for my new friend Steffi for helping me with my German, sending me trusted drivers, and looking after me even when I’m not in her presence. For Jungle and TJ informing me if someone owns a Honda they’re a “boss bitch.”

Too bad I have a Toyota.

I have no idea how my trips are going to turn out.

Ever.

After each trip I can say I’ve given part of myself to a place in exchange for a memory in my internal collage. What I love most might just be that the power of interaction and laughter are the same anywhere you go. And maybe that’s validation enough that you aren’t as fucked up as you thought. If you can still smile with others regardless of the setting.