Sacred Pilgrimage

There are five main pillars in Islam: declaration of faith, daily prayer, charity, fasting – and pilgrimage. During their life, every Muslim who is physically able is required to go on a five-day sacred pilgrimage to Mecca. Some spend their entire lives saving up for the trip. Some walk thousands of miles to arrive in Saudi Arabia. Around 2 to 3 million people gather for the Hajj ever year, making it the largest annual gathering of people in the world.

The act of pilgrimage is meant to renew a Muslim’s spiritual life. The Hajj wipes cleans the past sins of participants and creates a feeling of global community as Muslims from across the world gather together and preform the same rituals and prayers. Everyone wears simple white garments called Ihram which, like a school uniform, are meant to level the divide between poor and wealthy Muslims. Ihram also stands for the shedding of material pleasures and focusing on the inner self over the outward appearance.

I was thinking about the sacred rite of pilgrimage as I dragged my body out of my sleeping bag at the crack of dawn in Zion National Park. It was already almost 80 degrees as I stood in line for the shuttle bus into the canyon. Even though I was on one of the first busses I was in line with dozens of others trying to beat the heat for Zion’s most famous hike.

Angel’s Landing is an iconic trail which climbs the sheer canyon walls through pure determination and a series of 21 tight switchbacks known as Walter’s Wiggles. Walter Ruesch, the park’s first superintendent, engineered the trail and its infamous switchbacks in 1926 so that visitors could reach a point above the canyon so high that “only an angel could land on it”.

The trail is 2.5 miles, one way, and the last half mile traverses a narrow spine of rock out to Angel’s Landing itself. This part draws hikers, rock climbers, and adrenaline junkies of all kinds. At times the trail is only a few feet wide with drop-offs of up to 1,000 feet on either side. In sections a long metal chain is the only handhold. It’s a grueling scramble, but the view from the top is worthy of the divine.

I deboarded the shuttle bus on the canyon floor and set off in a small herd of hikers. Zion National Park sees 4.3 million visitors every year, and Angel’s landing is a huge draw. Like any sacred pilgrimage, I was surrounded by people from all over the country and all over the world. Foreign languages such as Russian and German swirled around me as we climbed. We were all here for an experience you couldn’t get anywhere else in the world.

Unlike the principle of Ihram on the Hajj, there were marked differences between the pilgrims struggling up the nearly 3,000 feet of elevation gain. Some were young, fit rock climbers who took off for the top with deft energy and skill. Some were middle-aged couples content to see how far they could go, with absolutely no intentions of risking their necks on the last section. There were kids racing each other up and down, hiding around the sharp corners of switchbacks to jump out at unsuspecting family members. We all sifted out into small packs of similarly paced hikers, nodding to each other as we stood panting for air at bends in the trail.

The ordeal made comrades out of us all. Helpful advice was doled out to those struggling to navigate a section of near-vertical wall. Pilgrims on their way back down were pestered for details on the trail ahead and enough encouragement to continue the climb. Conversations started between strangers pausing for a snack. Despite differences in language and fitness everyone on the trail was there to reach a common goal.

I thought about Ihram and the sacred act of shedding material pleasure and outward appearance to focus on the inner self. As pilgrims we had woken up at ungodly hours to sit together on a crowded bus and struggle up 21 switchbacks in the ever-increasing heat. Most of us were sweaty, out of breath, and red-faced. But every single one of us, from the effortlessly beautiful rock climbers, to the panting, struggling pedestrians, was there for the inner joy of a hike well done. The breath-taking view, the glorious adrenaline rush, the leg-shaking satisfaction of pushing your body to the top were our sacred reward for this pilgrimage.

Of the five pillars of Islam, pilgrimage stands out. The declaration of faith starts a Muslim’s spiritual journey. Charity, prayer, and fasting are habits built up over a lifetime of practice. Pilgrimage, however, can take place at any point and only needs to be experienced once to be transformative.

It can be tempting to #doitforthegram, attempting hikes or driving to overlooks to get that perfect Instagram selfie. But in treating a hike as sacred we embark on a process of pilgrimage which breaks down barriers, creates community, and is truly transformative.