So when asked “what was the craziest thing you did when you were away?” after pondering over all of the amazing experiences I had, one that comes to mind is hitch-hiking from Yosemite to Zion National Park. Instead of delving straight into the story, I will provide you with abbreviated details on what led me there.
This story began at Merced Lake in Yosemite National Park; after a short 4 hours of sleep, I arose at the crack of dawn ready to take on the day. I prepared my breakfast, bid my farewells, and made way for the trail. I was headed to Little Yosemite Valley which was a 14km/8.6 mile walk, I started off with a quick stride, found my rhythm and to my surprise, completed the walk in a remarkable time of 3 hours. As I set up my camp, I pondered what to do with my afternoon; after filling my water bottles I prepared to take on Half Dome. Half Dome is an iconic hike in Yosemite, it is a constant climb, and a dangerous one; when you reach the top of the trail there are two lines of cables to help you climb an intimidating granite wall, suffice to say I was pretty exhausted when I reached the summit (in a gruelling 1 hour and 45 minutes). I figured this was a great place to check up on emails and messages given the vantage point for reception coverage, and that is when I saw the email from Zion Adventure Company.
I had been in touch with Zion Adventure Company a number of weeks prior trying to claim a spot in their 3 Day Canyoneering Course, although there were no spaces available, I left my details with them and asked in the event of spaces becoming available that they contact me. It was Saturday the 22nd of August when I sat on top of Half Dome reading their email; spaces had opened up on their course commencing Monday the 24th of August, meaning I had two nights, and one full day to get myself to Springdale, near Zion National Park; it would be a push to make that distance, but it was worth a try! So I called up the company and told them I would do my best to make it.
I began the descent down to camp, and considered all that lay ahead of me: I needed a nights’ rest after all I had endured that day, meaning I wouldn’t reach Lower Yosemite Valley until the mid to late morning the following day, I also had to consider being without a car, buses would not get me to my destination in time, so hitch-hiking began to seem the most plausible option. After a quick dip in the river, I made a start on dinner and joined a few neighbouring campsites for a bit of banter. There were mixed reviews on my journey-to-be, some unsure whether I would reach my destination at all, others feared for my safety, whist some felt I had the right momentum and determination to make it there on time. All opinions are valid, but it was my journey at the end of the day, and I had a goal which I was prepared to go to great lengths to reach; after all, risks are an essential part of any journey when striving for a goal.
The next morning I woke again at the crack of dawn and made way for Lower Yosemite Valley, the path was treacherous, but I had gravity and a downward sloping gradient on my side. I was making really good time, until I made a slight detour; walking towards the John Muir trail, instead of continuing on the Mist trail, which added a whole lot of unnecessary elevation gain and distance to my trip. So I turned back around to once again join the Mist trail, it was a gorgeous hike, passing many waterfalls and tall granite walls. When I eventually arrived back into Lower Yosemite Valley, I had just missed a shuttle bus, so decided to walk to the nearest carpark; after all, what’s another mile? By the time I reached the masses of car parks and camping grounds, it didn’t take long before I found a couple to give me a lift to Yosemite Village – and this was the beginning of my hitch-hiking expedition.
The first ride didn’t get me far, but it was a start. The second car to collect me was an older couple from the Yosemite region; who spend much of their retired lives in this particular national park. This couple took me as far as Crane gas station, from where I started my walk up the road holding my thumb out to passing traffic. I walked a couple hundred meters, and only a few vehicles passed before my next ride came along; the car belonged to a park geologist, she was hiking a couple of trails with her friend who was visiting from Europe. They took me as far as May Lake, from here a young couple from Colorado, rock-climbing their way through Yosemite picked me up, they surpassed their destination to drop me further along the road at Tuolomne Meadows store. After many thanks and farewells I started up the highway, trying to pass the final major touristy stop of the park.
It took me a total of 4 rides to get from Lower Yosemite Village to Tuolumne Meadows Store, which is a total distance of 88.5km/55miles, I averaged 22km/ride. It took me 5 rides to get from Toulomne Meadows to Springdale; travelling 839.5km/521.5miles (excluding the section travelled by bus), I travelled an average of 168km/ride over this section.
I stood just East of Lambert Dome, holding out my thumb for yet another ride, this was when I was graced with the presence of two girls in their twenties; Mandy and Ashton, and Ashton’s father. Their vehicle came to a stop right next to me, I frantically hurdled my way into the back seat, pushing the bulk of my bag through to the boot. They were headed as far as Bishop, so that’s where I was heading too. Ashton and Mandy were based in Austin, while Ashton’s dad was based in San Antonio. We shared in some great banter, marvelled over the stunning scenery, exchanged our travel stories and got down to palm readings.
Upon reaching Bishop, we did a couple of laps around town to work out the optimum position for me to get my next ride; we decided on the most northern gas station. I made my farewells and looked forward to meeting the girls again on my visit to Austin. Standing at the gas station, I began walking up to various people asking what direction they were headed in, I wasn’t having any success in finding southbound traffic. I decided to take a different approach and draw up a sign with two destinations; Vegas and Zion in hopes that someone would be heading towards either one of these places. The lovely sales assistant sourced the materials for me and I got to work; I was happy with the end product. I crossed over the street, and put my destination sign to use; after only a couple of seconds, I noticed a police vehicle driving by, so quickly turned and pretended to search through my backpack. Once the policeman had driven out of the distance, I resumed my stance and a car stopped soon after.
Joey was the driver who picked me up, he was a teacher from the area and could take me as far as Independance. In the short time we spent travelling down the highway, Joey shared with me the history of the area and what it’s like to live in today. I took in the surrounds; the landscape had changed dramatically since leaving Yosemite; the highways and towns sat on very flat land, barren and desert like, old lava rock and cacti filled the planes; and there were jagged mountains filling the panorama from East to West.
The next place I stopped was Independance, and it was to Jim whom I owed the pleasure. Jim was from the LA area, he operates ranches and provides a sort of ambulance service for horses; cowboy best defined him. Jim was absolutely awesome; he loved to talk and was equally fascinated with my story and home country Australia, we took turns in being all ears.
He had some interesting life experiences to share, and knows an incredible amount about the land we passed. He shared a tale of a conflict he had once found himself in; he had stopped at a gas station on Indian Reservation, after parking his car and horse trailer, he went inside to purchase a drink, by the time he emerged he saw two Native Indians making off with two of his horses. He chased them down and tried his best to reason with the two men; both of intimidating builds. The Indians said that they would be keeping the horses, which Jim fired up at.
This carried on for a little while and as the two men started off again with Jim’s horses, he raced back to his vehicle and picked up his pistol. He ran back at the men and threatening to shoot at them, which hardly roused a response and again they walked on with his two horses. He knew there was only going to be one way around this, and pointed the gun towards their feet and fired; as quickly as their arms began flailing, he grabbed his horses by their reins and ran like fire back to his trailer. Once loading the horses in, his heart jumping out of his chest, and the two Indian men in pursuit; he started up the road, he did not slow down until he was once again in state owned land, and at once he crossed that border, he felt he might live to see the next day.
He went into detail about the differing laws between state owned land and Indian Reservations, then onto the history of the land we drove along, and many stories in between. Jim shared the history of the Manzanar concentration camp situated just south of Independence; one of ten camps where over 110,000 Japanese Americans were incarcerated during World War II. Further south, I was informed of the three aqueducts that supply Los Angeles with all their water; the North Haiwee Reservoir being one of them, these aqueducts caused a great deal of controversy since their construction began in the early 1900s. It was fascinating to hear the tales of this desolate area, and all the history this area of land holds. Jim was an absolute delight, when we parted ways at Barstow, he asked that I contact him when I arrive safely at my destination.
I now stood at a busy junction hoping to find a ride to Vegas. It wasn’t long before a mexican truck driver by the name of Sol picked me up. Sol was in his late 40s and has a kid around my age, so he also took the fathering approach too. As we got moving, we started to go over where I had come from and where I ultimately aimed to reach. Given the distance I had already travelled that day, he offered me all the bottled water I may need, homemade burritos his wife had just prepared (which were still piping hot!), and allowed me to sit in silence and sleep if I felt the need. I was feeling absolutely exhausted by this stage, amazing how much energy this day had consumed. After some conversation, I moved into the area behind the driver and passenger seats, where I laid myself down to rest and research; I was looking into buses that depart from Vegas and arrive in St George, which is only an hours drive from Springdale.
Judging by the website there were a couple of buses that may be in my time frame; 9:30pm and 11:00pm. It was only a short while up the highway, that warning signals began appearing on Sol’s control panel and we were required to pull into a truck stop to stock up on oil. As we pulled into the truck stop, I phoned up the bus company to discover there was one seat available at 09:30pm, however no seats available at 11:00pm… I passed this information onto Sol, the time was approximately 6:30pm at this stage and approximately 3 hours from Vegas – I knew it would be tight, but Sol was pretty determined to get me there.
For the remainder of the journey I tried to get some rest, I was pretty wired but even just laying in the back of the cab, not talking helped me regain some energy. I moved back to the passenger seat for the remainder of the journey; it was nearly dark as we begun passing the neon lights of Las Vegas and as close as we were to Vegas, it was becoming apparent that I would not make the airport in time for the bus..
By the time I made it to the airport the bus had long since left, I thought I would try my luck with the 11:00pm departure, seeing as though flights are cancelled all the time in the States! When 11:00pm came around, there were a number of people that lined up to fill their seats, I spoke with the bus driver, requesting that any spare seats are made known to me. There were two passengers that had not turned up and I was beginning to get my hopes up, however the conversation proceeded, and I had lost all hope by the time the phone call was disconnected.
I proceeded to the car park ticket machines, and began asking for people heading towards East 15 highway, finding no rides, I began to feel defeated; not only was I exhausted from everything I had just been through, it was all for nothing as there is no way that I could make my course on time. But I settled into a seat and began researching transport options for the morning.
To my surprise there was an hours time difference between Vegas and Springdale, which worked in my favour! So by catching the first bus out in the morning at 06:00am, I would arrive into St George at 07:00am local time, making me only an hour away from my final destination! I was back in the game! But I needed to rustle up a few hours of sleep, so I dozed off to sleep, listening War on Drugs playing through my headphones, curled up on the floor of Las Vegas airport. When I woke up, I made for the bathroom to freshen up; amazing how much a face cleanser and wet wipes help; it’s worth remembering I had not washed since Saturday evening, and I had hiked and travelled a long distance since then.
When the bus arrived, there were only 3 passengers who climbed on board, so I claimed the entire back seat and sprawled out. It was a 2 hour drive, and I slept the whole way. Once I hopped off the bus the driver asked how I would be travelling on to Springdale, lecturing me on how I should have been more prepared, that there is not many ways of getting from St George to Springdale. I didn’t give much of a response to this as I had just woken up and I had already made it so far, so fuck him, I will find a way.
That’s when Jessica emerged; Jessica had overheard my brief conversation with the bus driver and offered to take me a bit over halfway as it was enroute to her house. She was waiting to be picked up by her husband to be dropped off at her mechanic to collect her car, soon later we piled into her husband’s car. After collecting her car from the mechanic, we hit the road and the conversation didn’t stop! Jessica was in the process of starting up a B&B, a little out of the ordinary and I cannot wait until I’m next in the area to scope it out. After stopping for coffee and a bite to eat, she made the decision to drive me the remainder of the way; I was ecstatic! So when we arrived at the entrance to Zion Adventure Company, only being 1 hour late from when the course kicked off, I felt that I had made it – I was overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment; I had made it so far! And my heart filled with thanks to all of the people that helped me get so far.
As I approached the service counter at Zion Adventure Company, I was greeted by the lovely Felicia; she picked me out straight away and said “you must be Maddy”. Felicia was the person I originally contacted when expressing interest in the 3 day course, she also received a few of the updates I sent through of my journey from Yosemite. She started out by saying that I should be fine to join the course as the group was still practicing knots in the building (phew!), and finished by sounds like an interesting person, and I was welcome to stay on the couch at hers. I took her up on the offer, and made my way towards the course instructor.
What luck I had! I couldn’t stop smiling, I was constantly reflecting on the generosity of everybody I had the pleasure of meeting, and this journey would not have been possible without them.
I travelled a total of 1,128km/701miles in roughly 20 hours, 6 of which were spent sleeping at Las Vegas airport. This entire route from Yosemite Village to Springdale (Zion) was travelled by hitch-hiking rides, except for the section between Las Vegas and St George (200km/124miles) where I caught a bus.
I have to say that yes, hitch-hiking can of course be dangerous, and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone that is not prepared to put themselves in a potentially dangerous situation; but I did not feel unsafe at any one time, I adored every person that let me into their lives on this trip, shared their stories with me and I am in part writing this blog for each of you, this is my story, a pretty wild one, but one I would not forget in a million years.
Compelling Trails 
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