DAY 24
October 28, 2006
 
Last night we stayed at Village of Many Nations, a great campground just outside the east gate of Zion National Park. The proprietor donated our stay, which was impressive enough, but then added that there would be a Native American flute player that evening giving a concert in a large teepee. How could we refuse?
 
Unfortunately, I was waiting for my brother-in-law, Wade, to catch up to us and I missed most of the concert. I was able to listen to a fascinating conversation with a Spanish tourist, an Italian tourist, an authentic mountain man, and the flute player. We learned as we listened that some people and governments continue to take away tribal rights. I realized that for this man, the Iraq War was just another offense to humanity on a long list of atrocities. It hurts to think about it.
 
The next morning I woke up and met Mike and Jean from Moab, Bobbie and Boz from Logan, Jack from Smithfield and Doug from Nehalem, Oregon. Jack’s son, Jeremiah, joined us soon after as well as Elise and her husband from Salt Lake City. Elise brought some bells from Tibet that are designed to wake up one’s shakra. She rung them for me twice and I found them very pleasant. I also noticed that I could hear the ringing much better in my left ear. Because of the jets, tanks, humvees, generators and bombs in Iraq, I’ve sustained significant hearing loss.
 
I didn’t need perfect hearing to enjoy Zion National Park, however. The leaves of the deciduous trees were a brilliant yellow against the neighboring green conifers and deep red cliffs. The road starts at an elevation of more than 7,000 feet and drops down to 3,500 feet at the end of the park near Springdale. As we walked down, we saw the cliffs rise up around us.
 
The tunnels are off limits to walkers and we had to get a ride through them. It’s the only stretch I haven’t been able to walk this entire time. I talked with some locals in Springdale and they said that during winter nights you can run through the tunnels if you’re careful. I might just have to do that.
 
After the tunnels, Bobbie suggested that we walk in silence for a bit. It was a great idea. I thought of all the summers my family spent in the park. Zion will always be a spiritual place for me because of the time I spent with my brother and sister and parents there. But it’s not just a spiritual place for me. The Native Americans considered the ground sacred and the first Mormon settlers described the red cliffs as “God’s first temple.”
 
The walk was another beautiful experience that will help me to remember the glory of Zion for the rest of my life.