Destination Peak, Gifford Peak

 06/11/26

There's a whole collection of peaks on Zion's east rim that, for whatever reason, I've avoided all these months. Maybe it's because of the convoluted approach to get to them. Maybe it's because they're scary. Bridge? G2? Destination? Gifford? Them's some scary lookin' mountains right there. But my curiosity almost always reigns supreme and I knew that sooner or later I'd have to check out the area. It was an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. And scratch it I did. 

It all started with a reconnaissance hike up Gifford Wash back on May 28th. The main thing preventing me from accessing this collection of summits was the weird approach through Gifford Wash. From what I'd read about it, you gotta go up the thing, leave it at some random spot, scramble up the steep grade to a weakness in the cliffs and maneuver through a large slickrock bowl to a sandy saddle. Even with beta, I figured this would be pretty tricky to pull off in one go. Such was the reason for the reconnaissance. No pressure for the day. No worries. Just simple exploration. 

And of course when I got there, I left the wash far too early and climbed up some pretty sketchy terrain to a spot that was really really stupid. Always a good sign when you're scramblin' up on crumbly sandstone and you see some ancient webbing tied to a scraggily tree. Really makes you feel good about your life decisions. 

But I stayed relaxed and nonchalant and I found a weakness in the cliffs and climbed up a little bump and realized my error and corrected it and made my way down to the proper route, the thing sparsely marked with cairns. And I made it to the slickrock bowl and found a way through it and got to the saddle and saw all those funky, scary ol' peaks just sittin' around minding their own business. And I climbed up to a spot known as "Destination Point" and retraced my steps back down into the bowl and into the wash, burning the route into my mind for later. 

And the days went on by and I did a whole lot of other things but the itch was still there and finally, finally, on June 11th, I couldn't bear it anymore and so I grabbed my approach shoes and 2.5 liters of water and set off for Gifford Wash yet again, this time with the intention of reaching a few of those spooky, scary ol' summits.

Gifford Wash

And I left in a hurry and skipped breakfast 'cause I'd overslept and I wanted to beat the heat but it was too late, too late. The sun was up and it was there to stay. Oh well. So with an empty stomach I stopped at Sol Foods in Springdale and went straight to their clearance rack and bought me a box of expired "protein cereal" and some "sun dried tomato bagels" that were a couple days past than their sell-by date. No problem. I munched on the dry cereal and stale bagels all the way into the park, up the road, through the tunnel, past all the hikers and walkers and talkers and influencers making their way to the Canyon Overlook Trail. Found me a spot. Got out of the car. Tightened the shoes. Ahh yeah. No more messin' around. Time for hikin'. 

And I walked on down the road and entered Gifford Wash, the route still fresh in my mind. Recent rains had washed all traces of anyone having been in there; I was treading new ground, my footsteps the very first to disturb the freshly smoothed sand. Walkin' along, the sun behind the eastern wall of the wash, everything shady, nice, cool. Oh boy. If only it would last just a little longer...

But soon I saw the exit point and it was time for the slog up out of the shady wash and into the broiling hot sun. Up and up, my body a sweat machine leaving a trail of salty droplets on the slick, red sandstone. I went straight up the thing, angling towards the weakness in the cliffs. There's a large horizontal crack in one of them; this is the one to aim for in order to access the use trail. 

Leaving Gifford Wash; head for the cliffs center left

Once at the weakness, I found the use trail and followed it until it dumped me once again into the slickrock bowl. There are many ways to get through this thing. Some go straight. Some angle to the south. I stuck to the north, climbing up out of the thing via a steep lil' chute. Once at the top, I angled to the west to gain the sandy saddle.

Ahh, the sandy saddle. What a wonderful spot. You could sit there all day in the shade of a scraggily pine without a care in the world, watching the minutes burn away into hours, maybe see a herd of bighorn sheep or something if you're lucky. On my last visit, I did exactly that. Took a lil' break on a rock on my way down from Destination Point and just sat there for who knows how long and watched a small group of sheep stride down the cliffs out of sight.

But I had places to be and things to do, all of them completely optional, but hey, that's just the way it goes sometimes. No time for sight seeing. No time for dilly-dallying. It was only getting hotter and I was beginning to regret bringing only 2.5 liters of water. Oh well. This seems to be a recurring theme for me. 

Destination Peak from the saddle

And so I ditched the saddle and weaved my way down convoluted terrain towards the base of Destination Peak. Definitely not easy going. Lots of pokey things. Lots of loose nonsense. Some class 3 sprinkled here and there. Man. I sure didn't find the easiest way off the saddle. But my old friend gravity greatly assisted in getting me to where I wanted to go and soon I was at the base, staring up at an impressive formation on Destination's southeast flank.

The impressive formation 

Back on slickrock, I kept wandering west, climbing up some class 2/3 slabs to yet another saddle. Once there, I saw a large snag rising up out of broken shards of ancient sandstone. The thing sat right on the side of a super steep gully: climb down the thing and you'd be on the approach to Bridge Mountain and G2, climb up the thing and you'd end up on Destination Peak. I knew what to do. I'd read the beta. I tightened my shoes yet again and then began the steep ascent up the gully, the going slow and tiresome and hot, hot, hot. 

Ascend this gully

Walking along, the ground made up of a mixture of steep slabs and crumbly nonsense, absolutely nothing on my mind. Just up, up, up. That was the name of the game. And the sandstone changed from red to white, and soon the gully narrowed into a little ol' brushy canyon. And it was there, in that narrow section, where I encountered the crux of the route.

Not too hard, just a wee bit loose. I stayed to climber's right, climbing up loose boulders and then angling to climber's left up some steep (but straightforward and fairly unexposed) class 4 stuff. Once atop that, I continued along, leaving the gully too early for the summit and encountering the most sketchy, stupid, crumbly terrain I've ever had the displeasure to make acquaintance with in Zion National Park. Disquieted, I retraced my steps back towards the gully. My advice would be to stay in the gully until it ends, then head east towards the summit. It ain't too bad at all. Definitely better than the route I took...

The crux. Go right, then angle left

The correct route to the summit 

Woo hoo!

I eventually made it to the summit after a quick bout of easy route-finding. The correct way to the top is fairly obvious; if it's harder than class 3, you're off route. Once atop Destination Peak I sat on down, took a gander at the register. The thing contained scattered pages with entries going back to 2007 as well as a nicely preserved booklet placed in November of 2023. The last entry was from May 26th of this year. Somewhat of a popular place this one is. And I could definitely see why. 

Man, what terrific views. Can't really describe them. I've tried in previous posts to capture the essence of Zion's east rim. Never can get the words right. It would take a writer of a more serious caliber to construct the necessary prose that could convey the absolute and overwhelming sense of awe and wonder this place invokes upon the soul. I, unfortunately, am no such writer. I simply cough up the words and spit them onto this digital page and hope they're coherent enough to get the point across. Sometimes they are. Most times they're not.

And so all I will say is this: as I was standing there on the summit, gazing upon the incomprehensible, the sky a fierce sapphire jewel existing in stark contrast to the infinite and utterly inconceivable conglomeration of red, purple, green, orange, and white of the cliffs, the Towers of the Virgin across the valley like fat little fingers reaching to heaven, the East Temple rising directly to the north, massive, gargantuan, intimidating, ferocious, and its twin, the West Temple, rising out of the canyon floor, its northeast face a sheer cliff, appearing as if it were cut with a cosmic knife from some behemoth celestial entity, and Bridge Mountain and G2 there as well, standing not too far away, scary lookin' as usual, rugged, foreboding, inexplicable, and off to the south, there it was, Gifford Peak, the thing steep, gray, these deep gashes slicing through its north face hundreds of feet into the unknown...the only thing I could conjure in my mind while gazing at all this, the only way to describe the whole scene, the magic of the moment, the monumental beauty that surrounded me, the only thing I could think of was mmmmmm purty red rock n' big ol' cliffs and canyon. Yeah. Radical. 

East Temple

Ahh, the East Rim

South, Gifford Peak front and center

View West

And I'll leave it at that. No more nonsense. Time for another peak. I said my goodbyes and left the summit, entering the gully yet again. Climbed down the class 4 section, scurried on out of there, my left leg starting to cramp for some reason. Always gotta be something you know? Always gotta be something...

After carefully making my way down the gully, I finally made it to the snag and hopped over the saddle and saw what looked like a much easier way up to that first big ol' sandy saddle I mentioned earlier. Yep. Just a nice, long, fairly brushless series of sandstone ramps. Wayyy easier than the route I took to get to the base of Destination. 

Back in the gully

Looking down the class 4 section

Heading up to Gifford Peak

I ascended the slabs, angling towards Gifford. I saw a cairn, started up a ledge, and then pretty much climbed straight up the thing. Steep going, very steep going. And, wouldn't you know it, loose as well. Steep 'n loose. Gotta love that. 

And all was well and good, just a nice ol' classic Zion scramble, making progress, eatin' vert, and then, suddenly, the summit came into view. Ahh, so close, so close. I could taste it. It was right there. But first: the crux. Always gotta be a crux. 

Gifford summit...so close...

...but first you gotta make it past this hullabaloo 

Yup. The crux. I'd read about it. I was expecting it. I was prepared for it. Well, not really. Mentally prepared. Maybe not gear-wise. Most folks bring a rope for this part. Gotta climb up a 25ft vertical crack, the thing probably 5.5 on the YDS. I didn't have no rope. But what I did have was stupidity and stupidity goes a long ways. And so, very slowly, carefully, with great control and a wee bit of grace, I climbed up the thing, climbing down some tricky parts just to see if I could. Gotta respect that golden rule: I never climb up something I can't climb back down. If at any point I lost confidence, I'd call it quits right there. But the route went, and it went well. Once atop the crux it was a nice and easy stroll the rest of the way to the summit. I sat down. Chugged some water. Took a gander. Same ol' views. Same ol' wonderful, eye-watering, soul-smashing, mind-bending views. 

View west from Gifford summit

Lookin' north towards Destination Peak and East Temple

The east rim...again. 

View South, Hepworth Peak left

I checked the register, that like the one on Destination, had written entries going back to 2007. The most recent entry was from June 9th of 2025. Not a very popular summit this one; the thing gets very few visitors. 

And I didn't stay too long 'cause it was too dang hot and I was runnin' out of water and so I made my way back to the crux, fully prepared for the descent. And I climbed down the thing without issue because I knew I could do it and it was actually rather relaxing, truth be told. Almost like a meditation. 

What wasn't relaxing was the loose, crumbly, steep descent back to the sandy saddle. But I took my time,  one step after another. And I stopped often and looked out on Bridge and G2, knowing that someday, yes, someday I'll make the attempt to visit them. Just gotta conjure up the proper chutzpah. Those peaks ain't for the faint of heart. Them's the real deal.

Looking down the class 5 crux

Loose, crumbly nonsense

G2 and Bridge left, Destination center right

And I made it back to the base of Gifford and I took stock of my water supply. Wanted to do more peaks, particularly Roof and Hepworth, but I only had a little over half a liter left and brother, that simply wasn't enough. So I made one of the smarter decisions of my life and decided to call it quits and head on back to the car before I got super dehydrated. 

The slickrock bowl

And I made a beeline for the slickrock bowl and kinda just climbed straight down the thing, angling towards the spot where I knew the use trail would be. And I stopped about halfway through and posted up against a sandstone slab and drank the rest of my water and rested for a bit and admired the scenery around me, every little part, everything from the towering mountains to the smallest granule of sand. And everything was beautiful, simply beautiful, and I didn't want to leave, but of course I had to leave, and leave I did, wandering out of the slickrock bowl, down into Gifford Wash, off through the sand, back to the road, back to noise and cars and walkers and talkers and hikers and influencers. 

Gifford Wash down below

Back in the wash...

And I drove on out of there, the day complete, the adventure finally at an end. Wow. What an excellent pairing of peaks. Definitely a little tricky to get to them. But that was expected. My only regret was not bringing enough water. Seems to be a recurring problem with me. But then again, now I got a reason to go back. Roof, Hepworth. I'm comin' for 'em. Bridge, G2. Maybe. Probably gotta wait until the fall when things cool off a little bit.