The sun came up some time after we passed Canyonlands National Park. I began to clock the Greyhound bus' progress and estimated our arrival time in St. George, Utah with my GPS. The device reported that we would pull into the final McDonalds/Greyhound station at exactly 10:00 AM, the same time as my connecting shuttle departure to Zion National Park. I phoned the shuttle service and made arrangements to be picked up at the bus station. All I had to do was get to the station by 10:00, and everything would line up. When the bus left Cedar City, the last stop before St. George, the GPS report "45 MINUTES TO DESTINATION!" It was 9:15 and there wasn't a second to spare.

At this exact moment, the distinct sounds of a verbal altercation waft up from the back of the bus. I hear one man call another a "chicken" for "talking but not fighting." The argument escalates to the point that I am certain a fight will erupt. I imagine the bus driver pulling off the road to phone the state trooper that will most likely need to speak to witnesses and collect statements - putting us at least an hour late to St. George. This would postpone my entire day's activities in Zion and probably make it very hard to secure on of Zion's highly coveted backcountry permits. Thankfully, both men were all talk no action, and the last leg of my 52-hour Greyhound ended without incident. The bus arrived at the St. George McDonalds/Greyhound station just as my shuttle bus pulled into the parking lot at 10:00 AM.

Side note: In hindsight, I now know that there is a much better way to arrive at Zion by foot - fly into Vegas via Alliance Air out of Mobile, AL and then use the St. George Shuttle Company. The shuttle runs so many people from Vegas to Zion that the cost is only $25 a person. Meanwhile, I paid $75 for a 50 minute trip from St. George!

Finally, after more than two days of almost sleepless travel, I am dropped off at the entrance to Zion National Park. All at once surrounded by Zion's massive sandstone walls, I was suddenly frozen in my tracks and unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. I don't know if this reaction had to do with lack of sleep or staring at the back of a bus seat for 52 hours, but it caught me off guard.

I paid the $12.50 Zion entrance fee (discounted half price because I was on foot) and headed straight for the backcountry office. I arrived in time to secure an East Rim hike/camp permit ($10), and as a bonus I was informed that I would have the backcountry to myself - slow day on the East Rim. Before leaving the backcountry office, I was required to watch a 7 minute video on the rules and regulations of the Zion wilds. The film included all of the typical "be nice to nature" alerts such as pack out all trash, don't feed the animals, and bury your poop. One subject, unfamiliar to me, highlighted the fragility of the park's cryptobiotic soil crusts, "It provides stability to the soil and nutrients for the plants. It can take 70-100 to form but only one footprint to destroy. Without this valuable soil the desert would look vastly different." After viewing the backcountry film, I emptied my 50+ pound backpack, reassessed my priorities, and rearranged everything inside. Unnecessary food items and toiletries were discarded, but after the purge, the pack still weighed in at about 45 pounds. That would have to do.

Hiking up the east rim from the canyon floor was strenuous - switchback after switchback with short spurts of level terrain interspersed. Toward the end of the climb, thighs and calves on fire, I took solace in the fact that the return trip downhill would be a cakewalk. I forgot to take blisters into account. My feet suffered under the weight of a heavy pack, especially since I had the wrong shoes on for the job. What was I thinking when I decided to leave my boots at home? Trail runners, porous shoes that excel at "breathing", allowed baked desert sand and small rocks to slowly sift through mesh walls and into my socks. This intolerable osmosis of debris caused me to empty my shoes about once an hour. Even with the hourly maintenance, these tiny destructive granules settled between my toes and wreaked lasting havoc - blisters on blisters.

Atop the East Rim, I enjoyed breathtaking views including distant lush Zion plateaus, orange and red slick rock, a surprising meadow, a sighting of the Greater Short-Horned Lizard, an amazing cliff-side campsite, and a clear and bright night sky - enjoyed through my tent's mesh ceiling.