We stayed in Springdale, the gateway town outside of Zion National Park. As per tradition, we stayed at the Bumbleberry Inn
("tradition" meaning that I've stayed here before.) I first stayed at the Bumbleberry in 1992. Mom and Dad were on (what turned
out to be their last) vacation out west at the same time, and I knew they were to be somewhere in the area. I got into my room
at about 2 in the morning (flight from DC, drive from Vegas to Zion) and wasn't all that surprised to see Dad's shiny new Ford
Explorer in the parking lot when I arrived. I met up with them the next morning, and we had a good time together in the park.
Transportation between Springdale and the park is a wonderful thing. You simply leave your car at your hotel, hop on the free shuttlebus anywhere
in town and ride it to the park's entrance station and visitor center. From there you get on another free shuttle that runs up and down the length of the
canyon every 10 to 15 minutes (private vehicles are prohibited in the canyon itself unless you have a reservation at the Zion Lodge.). It's a great system.
Sad Ranger Joe laments the fact that he never got to wear shorts at Shenandoah.
Neoprene socks are a wonderful thing. So are canyoneering boots, 60" long wooden sticks and waterproof drybags.
We rented these items at the outdoor shop across the street from the motel. It was worth the money. Our feet never
got cold, the shoes gripped tightly to the slippery submerged rocks, the stick provided stability and reconaissance and
the waterproof bag kept the Nikon and the camcorder nice and dry (we all remember what happened lasti time, right?)
Linda manoevers across the river, using her rented stick to help keep her balance.
The view downstream through Wall Street, the narrowest of the Narrows.