“Only an Angel Could Land There!” – Hiking Angels Landing

There is way more to be said about the hike to Angels Landing then I could put in a lil’ blurb. So let’s chat that beautiful, rocky cliff you see above:

A Lil’ Backstory

I spent two days in Zion National Park in 2023. After the first, I was grubbing by myself at the incredible Oscar’s Cafe. While chowing on a trough of chips and guac (seriously, they must have hooked me up with a family size bag of chips on this thing), I started chatting with a pleasant trio of women who were on a friend’s trip to Zion. They were loving life, regaling me with stories of their ascent of Angels Landing that morning. Funnily enough, I had just won the lottery: sadly not the Mega Millions, but the drawing for permits to hike Angels Landing the next day. Curious about the history of the hike, I made the terrible mistake of reading about some of the tragic accidents that have happened. On the verge of chickening out, the ladies (and my cousin, who was hyping me up through text) played the cards perfectly, roasting me for even considering not going after they, who were self-proclaimed middle age and in okay shape, made it with not fuss hours earlier.

How can you back down after that? My pride and ego wounded, I retreated to my room for the night and prepared for my own ascent. Waking up at the crack of dawn to beat the crowds, I housed some PB&J on a spoon for breakfast and ventured into the park, attempting to make the first shuttle out. Once the bus stopped at The Grotto, the time had come.

How is this Hike Even a Thing?

Now that is the $64,000 question! To answer that, we need a teensy-weensy history lesson. In 1916, what will become Zion National Park is memeing around as a little-known National Monument in the desert named Mukuntuweap. Frederick Fisher, a minister, waltzes into the park day and notes a thin, rocky outcropping jutting into Zion Canyon. Soaking it in and pausing for dramatic effect (I imagine), he declares to all within earshot, “Only an angel could land there!”¹

Fast forward 10 years, and it is not the divine but the very mortal that have reached the edge. In 1926, the West Rim Trail was well under construction. Workers constructed Walter’s Wiggles (named after the park superintendent of the time), a series of intense switchback trails leading to Scout’s Lookout. An incredible overlook of the canyon below, today it is better known as the start of The Chains.

The Powers That Be collective decided, “Why stop at Scout’s Lookout?” and ventured onto that same outcropping that had so impressed Frederick Fisher. By chiseling steps and drilling posts into ledges at times no greater than a couple feet wide, daring souls slowly constructed a trail up this behemoth. By the time the the ball dropped on 1927, the whole, crazy thing had been built.

Amazingly enough, by most sources there was no accidents the first 50 years of the trail’s existence. That has since changed.² The reason? The hike got popular. The more hikers, the greater the chance for something to go wrong, especially on narrow footholds just feet wide.

The Permit System

I’ll be real – this makes the hike safe and worthwhile. In response to ever-increasing crowds and ever-increasing fatalities, the National Park Service came out of the COVID-era with a plan. That plan involved an online lottery system that would limit the amount of hikers per day and also divided the chosen ones into timed groups, meaning that you can only make the hike during your scheduled window of the day. It definitely pays to apply solo – I spoke with several large groups that were rejected, whereas I got mine on my first and only try.

An important thing to note is that the permit costs $3. You need to enter a card when applying for the lottery, but you will only get charged if you get a Golden Ticket.

There are two options for applying for the lottery: seasonally, and day before. With a seasonal application, you apply months in advance (see the chart here) and get to pick up to 7 dates and times you wish to hike. After the window closes, you get notified if you made it via email. The day before option is pretty self-explanatory: you apply the day before you wish to hike, and get notified that same evening. The NPS reserves spots for day-before applicants so they aren’t boxed out by more advance planners. You can apply once per day.

Permits are needed at all times of the year, even when the Canyon Shuttle isn’t running.

The Hike

To the Canyon

So I reach The Grotto around a little after 7:00 AM; the Sun still hasn’t fully risen and I cross the bridge that spans the Virgin River in chilly conditions. From here, it’s go time. The first section of trail is fairly standard – a dirt path that rises gradually. I hike briskly to warm up, and make my way through a group of people from my bus that had the same idea. The gradual incline of the couple hundred yards swiftly steepens. The chill turns to sweat real quick. The first adrenaline shot of the day arrives: a little section of rocky trail that huge a cliff face several hundred feet from the ground. Knowing the real crazy stuff remains a way off, I trudge on. I reach another major landmark: Refrigerator Canyon. As the day grows warmer, the canyon features a noticeable temperature drop. Tucked away inside steep cliffs, I stop for a bit and enjoy the peace and serenity. From there, Walter’s Wiggles comes into sight.

The Wiggles

I find Walter’s Wiggles to be an absolutely a** kicker. Incredibly steep, these 21 switchbacks are no joke. You can skip your next leg day at the gym! As my calves burned, I realize with a grimace that this is just the appetizer. Right on cue, the main course drifts into view. Upon first glimpse, I see The Chains section is even crazier in person than what the pictures show. This puppy is steep! I take a glimpse down the near-vertical elevation of the Wiggles to reflect on the journey so far and then steel myself. Before allowing myself a chance to think twice, I show the ranger my permit on my phone and take the fateful first step onto the longest half mile in existence. My first thought was not a good one: “my chances of dying the next hour have just increased exponentially.”

The Most Beautiful Chains you Ever Did See

Not completely knowing what to expect, I take the uber cautious route and take my shirt off. I wasn’t even trying to be douchey – I just wanted to limit the chance of something snagging on it. I took no pictures of this section – I wanted to keep my phone in my backpack and just focus on the hike. Others have taken a braver stance than I, and have filmed the whole jawn:

My mentality going up? Just stare at the rock ahead. Maintain as much contact with the chains and rock as possible (I often held the chain in one arm while touching the rock with the other). Until the end, the trail ascends heavily and I do my best to avoid looking down the cliffs on either side. Naturally, curiosity gets the better of me and I take a couple of glimpses. Now, I am not really scared of heights, but unless you are superhuman (or an incredible rock-climber used to defying death like this), you feel something. A couple just ahead of me stops to turn around when one starts to feel dizzy. I quickly realize, though, that there are only a couple of truly scary parts of the trail. Most of the time, the ledge is wide enough to feel comfortable, especially with chains to grasp.

On the other hand, I find a couple of hairy points. Either with a thinning ledge or due to lack of chains, I can see how accidents happen on the slippery, sandy rock if you aren’t cautious. I push on, though, and reach the back half of the unholy half mile where the trail starts to dip. Towards the end, the trail widens significantly, almost symbolically opening its arms to hikers who have persevered this far.

Squirrels!

The view at the end? Genuinely astonishing. As crowds gather, I maneuver my way around various groups trying to soak in the view. Everyone up there is your new best friend: morbid jokes abound, and everyone takes turns snapping pics of others.

I take about 20 minutes to soak in the 270-degree view of Zion Canyon in rising Sun. The morning glow just adds to the magic. While taking a break from the stunning scenery, I watch with amazements as Angels Landing’s smallest “hikers” dart about: squirrels! Making a living off stealing food and drink from hikers, these brave rodents have long lost any fear of humans and just waltz right up to you and start sniffing through your backpack. Keep those zippers closed, folks, as they pounce if given even a second’s opening. Although I know I would never get tired of the view, I realize even larger crowds are in hot pursuit of the summit and it’s probably time to go. Stealing one last glance, I start back towards solid ground.

Open Air

Coming down The Chains is a much different experience than going up. There is no “stare-at-the-rock-and-find-your-happy-place” strategy on the decent. The view provides thrills and frights in equal measure: I find myself starting out at nothing but open air. 1,000 feet on either side, I slide more so than hike. I imagine going down is the cause of more accidents: if you don’t go slowly and watch your step, there are several sections where momentum could carry you over the edge. Luckily, hikers are generally a kind bunch: at bunch points, people are great about pulling off to the side where it is safe and letting others go.

It needs to be said not everyone feels the same: a group of young women I befriended followed me down and all thought the climb up was tougher. After about an hour and a half on The Chains, I breath a sigh of relief as both feet hit the ground. Looking back, I savor in the victory – I actually did that! I wade my way through the hearty souls gathering, providing encouragement and advice to those about to embark on the journey.

The End of the Road

The hike back to The Grotto I would best describe as a blur. Walter’s Wiggles? So much easier going down. Refrigerator Canyon? Even more enjoyable when I wasn’t focused on the crazy bit I was about to willingly do. The hardest part going down I find to be the cliffside part – the rocky trail is such that a toe-pick is easy if you don’t watch your step.

After about 3 hours, I cross the bridge once more back to where I came from, to snag some food and soak in the view of the same ledge I just spent a morning climbing. I’ve never enjoyed a margarita and mediocre fish more.

thoughts

Angels Landing is crossed by hundreds of thousands of adventurous souls each year. About 20 accidents have happened in the 98 years since the trail was hewn from the rock. The facts say this hike is far safer than driving a car. It just doesn’t look that way from down below. While I feel I was on the extreme side of cautious, as long as you don’t mess around and focus on every step you take, this trail is safe and incredibly well-maintained despite high usage. It’s when you leave the established path or fool around that the things could go wrong.

As far as preparation goes, a medium level of fitness AND strength is necessary. My arms were sore that night post-hike, from death-gripping and hauling myself along the chains. The legs burned as well – quite the elevation change! Check the weather schedule – it goes without saying you don’t want to be stuck up there in rain. Bring lots of water – the elevation change is significant and, no matter the season, you will be breaking a sweat!

As for who should NOT try this hike, Down the Trail covers it perfectly: if you aren’t fit, are scared of heights, or get dizzy with elevation, don’t even try it. A safer, easier, and arguably more beautiful hike is just to continue on the West Rim Trail from Scout’s Lookout up to several amazing overlooks higher than Angels Landing; you can turn around at any point.

How scary this hike is depends on your threshold. Like I mentioned earlier, if you have lots of mountaineering/climbing experience, this shouldn’t scare you one bit. If you are a weekend outdoorsman not used to elevation, sheer drops, or sandy rock, it gets a lot scarier! I think the fear is actually good – it kept me focused on the task at hand and I never got complacent. Every step, I made sure of where I put my foot before moving.

An hour’s long adrenaline rush, I am thrilled I did it. I crossed something off my bucket list that beautiful May morning. I don’t regret doing it, and would do it again with friends or family. Solo? Eh, I would just go higher on the West Rim Trail next time!

1. NPS ↩︎
2. Down the Trail article ↩︎