Last month, I got to do two massively cool things. They couldn’t have been more different, but they were both astonishing.
Have I every blogged about my U2 fandom? I think not. There’s a reason; I have emotional scars from being an uncool kid who never liked the “right” music. Truth be told, I never seemed to even KNOW what the right music was. I’ve heard U2 scorned by many, but I care less about such things now. Count me among their millions of fans.
U2 music has been around for most of my life. I was listening to them on 9/11 when the news came in about the twin towers. I took a road trip to Oklahoma with a good friend to see them live for the first time when I was in my late 20s. That might have been my first “big stadium” concert. When I got a car with Sirius XM, most road trips with me (solo or otherwise) became U2 sing-a-longs.
So, when I had a chance to get tickets to their residency at the brand-new Sphere in Las Vegas, I took it and built a long weekend with my regular travel buddy, Shawn. One day in Vegas for the show, two days to explore the red rocks nearby. U2 + hiking = perfect.
The best way to describe me for this little adventure? “Girl with her mouth gaping open.”
The Sphere is a marvel. Like nothing I, or the world, have ever seen before. The best way I can describe it is like being inside Spaceship Earth at EPCOT, but the walls are made up entirely over over 170,000 LED screens. Those screens are programmed/designed to be an integral part of the concert; in fact, if they weren’t, it would be a terrible venue for live music. The sound, light, and video design work it must demand of the production crew is truly mind-boggling. Other people have written better than I ever could about it if you want to know more.
The show was at its best when the screens were doing crazy, jaw-dropping stuff like this:
Or when they were showing the band, waaay down on a tiny stage, projected on to the dome so it felt like they were right in front of us.
The whole experience was overwhelming and oversized, from the long walk to get to the venue, to the venue itself, to the prices of t-shirts and drinks. About the only thing that was small were the seats. It was fun and memorable and I’m still kinda giddy that I got to be there.
If I’m honest, though, I was glad to leave Vegas; I find it overwhelming in its size, commercialism, crowds, and smog. It says something that my favorite parts of the city are the fountains and garden conservatory at the Bellagio. Oh, and the food. We had some definitely yummy food.
So, after our U2 night, we left Sin City behind and headed east, stopping at the delightful Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada (highly recommend), en route to Springale, Utah and Zion National Park.
Zion was one of our early trips, way back in 2017, and I hadn’t been back since. It left a huge imprint, though. Snow on my birthday in March was a particularly magical memory, as was climbing Angel’s Landing (before permits: we are trendsetters). Being back felt awesome…I do love me some red rocks, canyon walls, and crisp desert air that’s humidified a bit by the presence of the Virgin River and its tree-lined banks.
The goal of this trip was to check off a hike I’d wanted to do since 2017 - the Narrows. It’s a long, narrow (duh) winding canyon carved by the river. Much of the hike takes place in the water; the soaring walls are narrow enough in many places that there are no riverbanks. Do this hike in the summer, and you might wade up to your knees. Do it like we did, in early November after unusual rainfall and floods, and you might find yourself up to your chest in water.
For experienced canyoneers (is that a word?) like Shawn, the Narrows isn’t very hard. For folks like me, it was a refreshingly challenging adventure. I rented special grippy boots, and we both rented waders that should have kept us dry, and would have if the hike hadn’t taken a bit of a turn about .5 miles from our midway point. That’s a story for another time, but let’s just say it involved hanging out chest-deep in cold water far longer than recommended, and turning back just short of the end.
It’s hard to describe the magic of light when you’re deep in a canyon and it’s bouncing off the rocks and the moving water.
Why is it fun to slosh and slog over slippery bowling ball-sized rocks? I don’t know, but it is, even if every step could be the one that sends you tumbling into the water. Part of the magic is that you can feel how the water has shaped the earth, and still is. You can hear it, too.
Someone once told me this hike is life-changing, and it says a lot about all the incredible places I’ve seen that I wouldn’t go that far. It’s close, though. I’d love to go back when it’s warmer and the water is lower (and maybe tackle it the harder way, from the top down).
For a couple miles of our hike out, Shawn and I were moving fast; we were soaked, cold, and a little worried, as hypothermia can strike in situations like this, despite the warm day happening above the canyon walls. But eventually, we found sunshine and were able to warm up a bit and eat, and the final couple of miles were pleasant. It was crowded, but as we emerged from the water to shed our waders and wet socks, the warmth of the 80-degree day began to seep in. The walk back to the shuttle was lovely, and as we motored back to the parking lot, I couldn’t stop marveling at the gold trees in the valley. They were on fire in the sun, and looked like treasure to my eyes. I remarked to Shawn that, compared to Vegas, “this is definitely more my speed.”
That I could have two such different experiences on the same trip is pretty cool. On the one hand, I saw what man’s imagination can create in Vegas. And I walked through what Nature’s forces have created in the Narrows. Both have their pluses and minuses. Vegas’ negatives are obvious. Do we really need another overblown and overpriced venue in a city already overflowing with such things? Could the billions it took to build the Sphere have been put to better use? In the Narrows, the negatives are more philosophical. Should we even be in there? We passed two people who fell and injured themselves on the hike, including one broken arm, and it was easy to sense the power of the water. There were moments when I felt, in my bones, how easy it would be for the river to just rise up and sweep us all away, erasing us as if we’d never been.
I guess this is what adventure, of all kinds, is good for…deep thoughts. And also fun music, incredible scenery, good company, and life lessons. Like in my case, try to avoid getting soaked. If you can’t, always pack hand warmers and don’t wear cotton while hiking*. :)
There’s not much else to say except I’m lucky and grateful for both sides of the coins of these adventures.
*I wasn’t wearing cotton. I was wearing the clothes I should have been wearing in case I got soaked. Preparation for the win.