There is nothing like having a national park totally to oneself.
By Gil Salcedo
December 18, 2012
I drove a Ford Falcon sedan from Los Angeles to Zion National Park via the south entrance in January 1965. Powdery dry snow was heavy on the road. We were the only people around and there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. There were three of us and we set up camp in a canvas tent in total isolation and quiet in the South Campground, near the old Zion Inn. In the morning we drove to the Lodge, parked the car, and hiked to Upper Emerald. The pool there was like a cathedral of giant icicles hanging down--an amphitheatre of diamond spears. Later we drove to what is now called Gateway To The Narrows, stopping along the way at the Temple of Sinawava and the trailhead to the East Rim. Back near our camp we hiked up to the bench of The Watchman. We camped in Zion NP for several days and never saw anyone the entire time. The weather was beautiful--blue sky and sunshine. There is nothing like having a national park totally to oneself.
