[ Birds chirping, squawking ] Davie: America has some of the most breathtaking trails on the planet... unrivaled scenery... promises of thrilling adventures... and encounters with extraordinary people.

Man: It's a challenge.

Woman: Absolutely!

Davie: These paths hold deep history, stunning nature, and fascinating science.

In this series, we'll sample life on six of the most spectacular wilderness trails on the North American continent and reveal some of their most closely held secrets.

Oh, my goodness.

We'll explore the verdant Pacific Northwest Trail... examine the spine of the Lower 48 along the Continental Divide... hike through the remote-but-stunning deserts of the challenging Hayduke... head east to discover the Great Allegheny Passage... and, of course, will reveal the heart of the world-famous Appalachian Trail.

But first, we kick off with one of the most iconic and visually diverse trails on the planet.

♪♪ ♪♪ [ Birds chirping ] ♪♪ Hi.

I'm Mick Davie.

I'm a journalist and documentary filmmaker and I've lived and hiked all over the world.

I was born in Zimbabwe.

I grew up in Australia and Indonesia.

Currently, I live in Istanbul, Turkey.

Now I'm exploring America's great trails and the unique wonders they offer to all of us.

As a filmmaker, I'm excited to see this incredible scenery firsthand, but I also want to explore what drives someone to give up their normal life for six months to hike an epic, arduous long-distance trail.

What internal journey are they on, on top of the actual physical one?

Not that everyone needs to hike the trail end-to-end, of course.

A day hike or a weekend's trek can be a real delight.

Whatever your motivation, exploring these great trails is an adventure and a privilege.

A journey into the rugged heart of America.

♪♪ ♪♪ Today, I'm starting here, in the deserts of Southern California.

In this episode, we will be exploring the Pacific Crest Trail, the PCT, an extraordinary route that stretches 2,650 miles from the Mexico border along the peaks of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade mountains all the way to the Canadian border in Washington state.

I'm going to hike just parts of the trail myself, including a fantastic stretch named after the famed naturalist John Muir.

But hiking the full PCT can take a through-hiker, somebody traveling the whole trail end-to-end, up to six months.

And for those who complete this epic journey, it's often life-changing.

♪♪ The Pacific Crest Trail starts back in the town of Campo on the Mexican border.

A concrete monument marks the spot.

Right away, you have to have your wits about you, because it's 20 miles from here to the next natural water source.

Water, or rather lack of it, is a constant problem out here.

And, yes, rattlesnakes.

[ Rattling ] The trail's path through this southern desert is usually hot and dry during the day, very cold and dry during the night, sometimes close to freezing.

It's not a sand desert, though, and the terrain is diverse, often rolling, scrub-covered hills, sometimes steep climbs among rocky outcrops and Joshua trees.

And the more north you head, the taller the vegetation gets.

Piñon pine and Sierra juniper trees.

Occasionally, it's barren and seemingly lifeless.

But even that has its beauty.

The Pacific Crest was developed and mapped in the 1930s, much of it on the rough paths cut by the horses, mules, and livestock of early settlers and ranchers in the American West.

And it was formally established as a National Scenic Trail in 1968.

At the same time as its more famous twin, the Appalachian Trail, earned the designation out east.

But while the Pacific Crest shares much in common with the A.T., it is also wildly different.

It's a good 450 miles longer than the A.T.

But I'm talking about more than just distance.

It's not only the 2,650 miles you have to hike to complete it.

It's the extremes of landscape and climate you have to pass through to do so, literally traveling from desert to glacier.

♪♪ Now, you might be wondering, why start in the south at all?

Why not start in the shade of the Cascade Mountains, the northern terminus of the trail, up near Canada?

Well, some hikers do, but 80% of through-hikers begin in the south in April or early May because of the narrow window one has to reach the wildly different sections of terrain during optimal weather.

♪♪ Timing is everything, and getting it right is becoming more challenging with climate change and the growth of wildfires in the Western U.S.

Planning a through-hike on the PCT requires the precision of a military general.

♪♪ It's a slog through the desert, for sure, but it doesn't last forever.

Larger trees and their precious shade become more and more of a sure thing.

Sometimes, there's even a stream by the trail.

♪♪ A whole new ecosystem emerges as cedar and pine replace the desert scrub.

White sweet clover and wolf lichen begin to appear.

In the air, swallowtail butterflies and California scrub jays.

Before you know it, your dessert section is done.

And for your efforts, a great reward awaits.

♪♪ There's a place on the PCT that hikers who've been traveling for weeks through the desert are desperate to get to.

It's a Shangri-la, and it's likely you've never heard of it.

Welcome to Kennedy Meadows, gateway to the Sierra.

Kennedy Meadows is a refreshment and resupply station, and its hub is this little tumbledown store on the edge of the forest.

Its owner is Suzie Cross.

Hi.

Are you Suzie?

Cross: Hi.

Yeah.

Davie: Hey.

I'm Mick.

Cross: Hi, Mick.

Nice to meet you.

Davie: Nice to meet you, too.

So, Suzie, how important a stop is your place for PCT through-hikers?

Cross: It's very important.

Family and friends and even the hiker themselves send their packages here.

Davie: Equipment for the next stage of the journey?

Cross: Yeah.

So they don't have to carry their ice axe or crampons.

They pick it up here and then carry on through the Sierras.

Davie: How much stuff do you get sent?

Cross: Hundreds.

I've got over 400 right now.

Davie: 400 care packages waiting for hikers.

Cross: Yes.

Davie: Can I see that?

Cross: You bet.

You bet.

Davie: Come check it out?

Yeah?

Cross: Yeah.

Come take a look.

♪♪ Davie: We're going behind the scenes on the PCT for a rare glimpse.

So, this is where you stash your packages?

Cross: This is where I stash 'em.

Davie: That's a lot of packages.

Cross: It is.

Davie: There are literally hundreds of packages in here.

Cross: Yeah.

Yep.

Davie: So, these are all care packages sent by friends, relatives, boyfriends, girlfriends for hikers on the PCT.

Cross: Yeah.

Davie: And what's in them?

What do people get sent?

Cross: Bear vaults.

Davie: A bear vault.

Can I take one down?

Cross: Yeah.

Davie: Okay.

Okay.

So this is a bear-proof canister.

Cross: It is, yeah.

Davie: Full of food.

Cross: Yep.

Davie: And when do bears start becoming a problem on the trail?

Cross: I believe probably Whitney.

Davie: Mount Whitney.

Cross: Mount Whitney.

Mm-hmm.

Davie: Okay, that's when it gets a little scarier.

Cross: They're not an issue here, but... Davie: Right.

So it goes from scorpions and rattlesnakes in the desert to bears up in the mountains.

Cross: That's right.

Davie: Kennedy Meadows is a place where breakable packages are reunited with unbreakable spirits.

I sat down with this table of through-hikers taking a well-earned break.

[ Laughter ] Most of them have only met recently, but, already, their shared experience has turned them into a family.

So, what -- These care packages that are showing up here, what do you need it -- Man: Let me open it up for you.

Davie: Is that a... That looks like a squash racket or something.

Man #1: I don't even know it got -- Davie: Did you all get care packages when you arrived here?

Do you really need this much tea on the trail?

[ Laughter ] Man #2: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Man #1: Every morning, Man #2: I would pick this over a tent and a backpack.

Davie: Really?

Wow.

So, what did you score in your package?

Man #1: I had -- I sent over my ice axe to go through the Sierras and then I have a bear can.

Davie: Can I see this?

Okay, so, obviously, you need this in the desert, but for the -- How many miles ahead are you going to be needing this for?

Woman: 568.

Davie: For 568.

Davie: How does it feel thinking about the fact that you've got 1,900 miles to go?

Man #3: This is just what we do.

Woman: Yeah.

It's every day.

Man #3: At this point, it's our lifestyle.

Man #4: I feel like part of it is you don't think about the end, you think about tomorrow.

Davie: You guys are married?

Both: Yeah.

Davie: Do you think you'll be married at the end of the trail?

Woman: Oh, yeah.

Man: We'll be married and even stronger than before.

Woman: No, we're actually stronger now than we've ever been.

Davie: Really?

I was going to say, so, what effect has it had on your marriage?

Man: I mean, it strengthens the bond.

You're in each other's face 24/7.

Woman: You smell everything.

[ Laughter ] Man: Honestly, you do.

Woman: You either make or break it.

Davie: So it's brought you closer together, you think.

Man: Yeah, it has.

It's the best marriage counseling we've ever had.

Woman: Yeah!

It's true!

Davie: With a handful of tea bags, a table full of new friends, and some good marriage advice, we move on.

♪♪ Now, Kennedy Meadows is a gateway, but it's still three days' hiking to get into the Sierra proper and the John Muir Trail.

But there's a reason I'm excited for this section of the PCT.

It's what many hikers have been longing for in the heat and scrub and mesquite of the desert -- cool, shade, water, and these -- giant sequoias.

They're the biggest trees on Earth.

The tallest trees in the world are, of course, coastal redwoods in Northern California.

They're the same family as these beauties.

But giant sequoias, by volume -- they're the biggest trees on the planet.

♪♪ Aren't they incredible?

You come across these wonders while heading north towards Kings Canyon National Park and Yosemite on the route of the PCT, areas that are famous for these remarkable specimens.

Now, some of these trees have been alive for 3,000 years and are still going strong.

And there are sequoia fossils that date back some 200 million years, to the Jurassic period.

For giant sequoias to thrive, they require huge amounts of water.

A mature sequoia, like this, is pumping 500 to 800 gallons of water through its trunk every day.

They get the water from the melt of the Sierra snowpack, which has shrunk ominously in recent years, but still hangs on.

The mountain snow accumulates on the ground over the winter months, and when it melts, these giants drink.

Giant sequoias would actually be the tallest trees in the world, taller than their coastal-redwood cousins, but over hundreds of years, thunderstorms and lightning have ripped through here and cut their tops off.

So they've adapted and grown outwards.

Look at the trunk of this one up ahead.

It's much bigger than a full-size pickup truck.

The largest tree in the world, by volume, the General Sherman, lives up ahead in Kings Canyon National Park and weighs over 640 tons.

Sadly, sequoias are endangered.

More than 85% of all giant-sequoia grove acreage across the Sierra Nevada has burned in wildfires between 2015 and 2021, compared to only 25% in the preceding century.

Fortunately, these beauties are still standing like sentinels along the Pacific Crest Trail.

♪♪ ♪♪ This is Mount Whitney.

♪♪ Isn't she astounding?

♪♪ At 14,494 feet, the highest mountain in the Lower 48.

Absolutely gorgeous.

♪♪ So, it's late April -- spring in sunny, windy California.

And, yes, there's still snow and ice on the mountains up there.

Looking around you, you really do get a sense of the tremendous geological forces at play here.

50 million years ago, this region was a giant slab of granite underneath the earth.

And then, from about 5 million years ago, glaciers, winds, and tectonic shifts eroded the crust and exposed and twisted the granite into these beautiful shapes you see around us today.

And if you want an idea of the crazy extremes of weather here, consider that only 85 miles in that direction is Death Valley, the lowest, hottest, driest place in America.

And here we are, closer than the daily commute for many people, but we're in a world of granite, ice, and snow.

Just ahead here, a trail within the trail.

Starting at Mount Whitney and following the route of the PCT for 212 stunning miles, the John Muir Trail is wilderness in its purest form.

There are no towns or villages along it.

No road crosses it.

You might see a side trail made by a mule deer.

Some of those paths are also stalked by mountain lions.

Shooting-star flowers like the moist meadows up here.

And if you see a flash of blue, it might be a Steller's jay.

The trail is a magnet for wildlife.

It winds through one of the largest contiguous roadless wilderness areas in the continental U.S.

And it ends 100 miles to the north, in Yosemite National Park.

So, why name this spectacular section of the trail after John Muir?

I found a man who has the answers.

Claude Fiddler is a world-renowned rock climber and photographer.

He has lived and worked in the Sierra for more than 50 years.

So, tell me about John Muir.

Who was this man?

Fiddler: John Muir was sort of an original climbing bomber.

Muir was a person that was enamored with nature from an early age, growing up on a Wisconsin farm, and then he went to college and he discovered botany.

And I think that started him on a course of being a wanderer and being a naturalist.

And off he went to Yosemite Valley.

And that was a love affair that lasted his entire life.

Davie: And tell me a little bit about his impact on the preservation of these great natural areas of the United States.

Fiddler: Yosemite became not a national park, but a park, and it was under the care of the state, and Muir could see that that was not sufficient for protecting the environment.

Davie: Because there were cattle and sheep being grazed.

Fiddler: Cattle and sheep and people.

Yeah, exactly.

And so Muir lobbied Teddy Roosevelt.

And I think that Roosevelt wanted to meet Muir at that point in time, because Muir was famous.

He'd done a lot of writing and was well-known as the person who you wanted to see when you got to Yosemite.

And then they got away from the entourage and spent at least a couple of nights together.

And I think they were kindred spirits.

Davie: And they were out in the wilderness, under the stars.

Fiddler: Yeah, exactly.

And Roosevelt was out and away from, you know, the cluster of people, and he just got to have his conversations with Muir.

And I think they were influential.

Davie: And it was at that point Yosemite became a national park.

Fiddler: It was around that.

That was the formation and the -- That we got national parks, which, as an idea, is a fantastic thing.

A national park.

Wow.

It's for everybody in the country.

Davie: So John Muir has had a really significant impact on this part of the world, hasn't he?

Fiddler: Yes.

Yeah.

And it's because he formed the Sierra Club and because the people who joined the Sierra Club early on -- William Colby and Richard Leonard and the climbers, Jules Eichorn, and then people like David Brower, who, you know, formed Earth Island Institute -- those people became the drivers of the conservation movement and the environmental movement for all of the U.S.

♪♪ Davie: My hike today will end about 15 miles down from the trail, at beautiful Convict Lake.

It's just one of hundreds of mountain lakes in the Sierras.

Cool, clean, and refreshing to drink from after a long day's trek.

But if I was to continue hiking north from Yosemite, I'd travel another 400 miles through California before reaching the first state line -- Oregon.

♪♪ After the granite of the Sierra, the trail brings you to the volcanic giants of the Cascades.

Crater Lake in Oregon is extraordinary.

It's 1,949 feet deep, the deepest lake in the United States, created with the volcanic eruption of Mount Mazama almost 8,000 years ago, when the mountain collapsed in on itself.

♪♪ Over centuries, it filled with water.

Local Native Americans witnessed the collapse of Mount Mazama and kept the event alive in their legends.

The Klamath people tell of two chiefs -- one of the above-world and one of the below-world -- who engaged in battle.

The chief of the below-world lost, and his home, the mountain, was destroyed.

Today, the Klamath still consider the lake sacred.

Farther on in Washington State, the Pacific Crest Trail leads you through more volcanic mountains.

The base of Mount Adams... the shattered remains of decapitated Mount St.

Helens to the west... Mount Rainier... and North Cascades National Park.

♪♪ Be advised -- the PCT will test you.

Of the 1,000-or-so through-hikers who now take the trail each year, only an estimated 60% finish it.

And while deaths on the PCT are relatively rare, they do happen.

There have been 15 since 1983.

A couple from heatstroke.

Most were from falling.

If the planning of your through-hike has been precise, though, you'll arrive in Washington in August, the fifth month of your walk, and the snow will mostly have melted.

Finally, after 2,650 miles and five, maybe six months on the trail, the most dedicated through-hikers, the 60%, reach the end.

A marker appears on the edge of the trail, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

A simple wooden plinth engraved with the words "Northern Terminus, Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail."

There may be a small American flag and Canadian flag on it.

You are at the border.

You have reached the end.

At this point, sheer exhilaration, the joy of finishing overcomes everything else.

Man: Mexico-to-Canada hiking trail.

[ All cheering ] Davie: But deep down, there's also mourning.

For all the challenges -- or perhaps because of them -- hikers quickly realize how much they'll miss this trail and the lifestyle it commands.

♪♪ Have I whetted your appetite for outdoor adventure?

Then join me as we explore a real gem in the rough.

It's little-known, yet National Geographic called it the greatest hike in America.

Both challenging and stunningly beautiful.

The Hayduke.

That's next.

♪♪ Today, I'm here in the rugged, popular red-rock wilderness of Arches National Park, Eastern Utah.

This park is the beginning of the Hayduke Trail, a hazardous 800-mile backcountry route through some of the most arid, inhospitable, and, yet, strangely beautiful scenery on Earth.

The red-rock canyons and high desert of the Colorado Plateau in Southern Utah and Northern Arizona.

Conceived in 1998, the Hayduke is an 812-mile route that links six national parks.

It begins here, then heads through the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park, Capitol Reef National Park, and Bryce Canyon National Park, then south to a little place you may have heard of -- the Grand Canyon -- and finally finishing in Zion National Park back here in Utah.

Because it travels from Arches to Zion, the Hayduke is often ironically referred to by some who have hiked it as the A-to-Z Trail.

And that's ironic because, as we will see, hiking the trail isn't quite as easy as reciting your ABCs.

It's a highly strenuous route, most of it off-trail, not sign-posted, and suitable only for the most experienced desert backpackers in peak physical condition.

It's a journey that demands courage and character.

It's a journey into your own head.

♪♪ The Hayduke Trail starts here, near the northern entrance of Arches National Park, not far from the imperious 92-foot span Tower Arch, a suitably immense beginning to a trail of truly monumental landmarks.

It takes hikers around two or three days to get through Arches, walking on dirt roads south towards the adventure-sports town of Moab on its southern border.

You can do it even quicker than that, but why rush?

You'll want to stop and look around.

♪♪ Arches is an astonishing museum of geological wonders -- more than 2,000 natural sandstone arches, balancing rocks, and other strange formations carved out of the earth over millions of years.

You can see why filmmakers, photographers, tourists, and hikers are drawn to the area.

A geological testament to the forces of nature.

The elements that created Arches over millions of years are broadly the same forces that carved out the other astonishing landmarks on the huge expanse of land known as the Colorado Plateau, which extends well beyond the Hayduke Trail and through parts not only of Colorado and Utah, but of New Mexico and Arizona, as well.

About 65 million years ago, this area was a dry seabed stretching from horizon to horizon.

The arches around us were buried thousands of feet belowground.

Then, over millions of years, geological forces began to twist and bend the stone under the earth, pushing rocks together, fracturing them like the folds of a crumpled piece of paper.

Eventually, the tectonic pressure got so great that it caused the entire region to rise up, and the earth and stone belowground went from sea level to thousands of feet in elevation.

And, as we know, what goes up must come down.

Over the last 4 million or 5 million years, erosion from rain, wind, ice, and snow has carved layer after layer of the rock, revealing, like a master sculptor, these incredible structures and arches, monoliths, and balancing rocks all around us.

♪♪ Further along the trail, we will see equally incredible structures.

Fins... buttes... washes... gulches... needles... canyons... slot canyons, and more.

It's as if some surrealist god hallucinated them into being in this vast open-air studio.

Of course, it's easy to forget that the erosion process continues today and will do so long after we're gone.

For example, on the 4th of August, 2008, the famous Wall Arch on the popular Devils Garden Trail near here actually collapsed.

And one day, all of this will be gone, too.

It's a delicate, fragile ecosystem.

But look at it another way.

In a process that has taken 65 million years, we're blessed to be alive when it looks like this.

♪♪ The story of the Hayduke begins 25 years ago, when, in the spring of 1998, two friends, Mike Coronella and Joe Mitchell, did the first of two extraordinary Colorado Plateau expeditions -- a 500-mile desert journey from Arches to Zion.

Like Lewis and Clark before them, they took meticulous notes, describing everything, from animal and bird life to petroglyphs -- carvings left by the region's prehistoric peoples.

They also listed places where campers and hikers can sleep and find water.

Word got out about their journeys.

A writer for Backpacker magazine suggested that they declare their route an official trail.

In 2005, they published a book, "The Hayduke Trail: A Guide to Backcountry Hiking on the Colorado Plateau."

National Geographic Adventure magazine then described this as the greatest hike in the United States.

♪♪ It isn't all backcountry, though.

There's a small section that passes through a city, offering hikers a welcome respite from the difficult trail.

This suburban street in the city of Moab, just outside of Arches National Park, is actually part of the Hayduke.

And to find out why, we can go straight to the source.

Hey, Mike.

Coronella: Hey.

Davie: I'm Mick.

How are you?

Coronella: Good, good.

Nice to meet you.

Davie: Nice to meet you, too.

Coronella: Yeah.

You want to come out back and talk about the Hayduke Trail?

Davie: Yeah, let's do it.

Mike Coronella is one of the Hayduke's founders, along with co-hiker Joe Mitchell.

Quite literally, a trailblazer.

You are this legend who helped create this trail.

How did that happen?

Why did you do it?

Coronella: It kind of evolved.

Davie: Were you going through a divorce?

Coronella: Yes, I was going through a divorce.

And, you know, they talk about, in the good books, about 40 days in the desert.

So I was talking about maybe 80 days in the desert.

Davie: You needed that.

Coronella: And then "Mitch" came up with this idea, as we were talking about different things, that maybe we could walk from Arches to Zion.

And -- Davie: From A to Z. Coronella: From A to Z. Davie: And the goal was to thread the needle through five or six national parks.

Coronella: Through five parks.

Davie: Through five parks.

Coronella: And just kind of check out what's in between them.

Davie: Where did the name Hayduke come from?

Coronella: So, I literally found a book that was called "The Monkey Wrench Gang," and it was written by Edward Abbey, who was a ranger in Arches.

And the Monkey Wrench Gang was about a group of people who wanted to protect this part of the desert against development.

And the lead character of "The Monkey Wrench Gang" his name is George Washington Hayduke.

Davie: And, presumably, the reason this hadn't been done before was because it's incredibly difficult.

Coronella: Yeah.

I like to say the reason nobody did it before is we were the first people dumb enough to try it.

But out here, it's kind of the frontier.

There's no water.

It's steep.

There's snakes.

There's scorpions.

Like, there's all kinds of hazards to be had out there, and so traveling through is a lot different than walking through a forest.

Davie: In what sense?

Tell me about that.

Coronella: It's just kind of, like, very liberating to be out in something like that, to know it's you.

And that, to me, is the ultimate in freedom.

Davie: Self-reliance.

Coronella: Self-reliance.

And I always tell people, the one thing I can say for sure is it will change your life.

It will change you, who you are, and how you perceive the world.

♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ Davie: Back on the trail, and I've made my way south to the second... major national park on the Hayduke.

This is Canyonlands, and it really is backcountry.

It is a national park, but unlike Arches, I feel like I could be on Mars.

♪♪ There is nobody around.

It's a spectacular landscape, a canvas of red, orange, and purple swirls.

Author and environmentalist Edward Abbey called this one of his favorite places.

He said it's the most weird, magical, wonderful place on Earth.

There's nothing like it anywhere.

And he's right.

But with that wonder comes some real challenges.

It's mid-morning and it's already pretty hot.

Most Hayduke hikers start their journey around March to avoid the extreme heat of the Colorado Plateau in summer.

But there really is no way to dodge extreme conditions on this trail.

It's hard to find stats on how many through-hikers travel the Hayduke.

People don't register to hike it the way they do for the Appalachian Trail.

Maybe as few as 100 people attempt it each year.

My goal today is somewhat more modest.

I'm headed for the beautiful Green River Overlook.

♪♪ Canyonlands is divided into four districts, and the Hayduke section is in the Needles area, east of the Colorado River.

And by now, you're probably wondering, "What about water?

How much do you have to carry?"

Well, you may get a year's worth of rain, a few inches or more, all at once, but then nothing for months.

Regular rainfall is scarce, so at least one online guide advises to always carry 3 to 5 liters of water and to bring a way to purify water you find.

But for all the aridity of this landscape, it's easy to forget the Colorado Plateau is a watershed.

♪♪ Canyonlands is at the confluence of the Colorado and Green rivers.

♪♪ The creeks and smaller rivers run through it and, over millions of years, have cut deep canyons into the parched crust.

♪♪ You could be walking on what seems like flat ground... and, suddenly, you find yourself on the lip of a deep gash.

♪♪ Then you have to go on... down into the canyon.

That's how Coronella and Mitchell mapped it out.

♪♪ Sometimes, you have to squeeze through narrow, waist-sized passages between towering sandstone walls to continue the trail.

Ice and rain have washed the sides of the walls smooth... and created these tight, curled tunnels.

It gets is claustrophobic.

And there is a risk of flash floods and falling rocks.

So, just how dangerous can hiking here be?

♪♪ On April 26, 2003, mountaineer Aron Ralston was on a solo descent of Bluejohn Canyon, over in that direction.

While he was descending, a suspended boulder dislodged, smashing his left hand, and then crushing his right against the canyon wall.

He was stuck.

He hadn't informed anybody of his hike, nor did he have a way to call for help.

Hours and then days passed.

He ran out of food and then water.

Delirious and expecting to die, on the fifth day, he did the unthinkable.

He broke his trapped forearm and began to amputate it with a cheap, dull knife and a pair of pliers to break free.

The entire process took him an hour.

Then, with one arm broken, one forearm missing, he had to make his way through the rest of the canyon, rappel down a 65-foot drop, and hike 7 miles to safety.

All that just northwest of here, not far from Canyonlands.

He documented the harrowing story in his autobiography, "Between a Rock and a Hard Place," later made into the movie "127 Hours."

The Hayduke has its dangers and no shortage of extreme obstacles.

But if you can get over them or around them, you'll reap the rewards.

♪♪ There are countless treasures ahead along the 600 miles of trail from where I am in Canyonlands to the terminus, in Zion National Park.

♪♪ First come the Henry Mountains -- steep and remote, but filled with wonders.

Mount Ellen, the highest peak, is at 11,522 feet.

You can see mule deer... and sometimes bison.

The Henrys are home to one of the largest free-roaming herds of genetically pure bison in the country.

♪♪ ♪♪ If you're observant, you can also spot fascinating markings left by the region's early inhabitants.

Petroglyphs, those ancient Native American rock drawings, depict sheep and bison... though their precise meaning is a mystery.

Some probably date to the late 19th century, but others may have been left thousands of years ago.

Then it's on to Bryce Canyon, known for its remarkable number of stone spires, or hoodoos, before a sharp south turn to the Arizona part of the trail... and the Grand Canyon.

♪♪ Here, you descend 5,000 feet into a river gorge... hike for miles over building-sized boulders in a furnace of 100-degree heat, before climbing 5,000 feet out again to rejoin the trail.

It can take a toll on one's body and soul.

But if you've come this far, you're in great shape and your mind is in the zone.

Plus, you know you're close to civilization.

So attuned has your body become to the wilderness that through-hikers talk of being able to smell people before seeing them, perfume, deodorant, shampoo being such foreign scents after seven or eight weeks in the wilderness.

And so, at last, you arrive in Zion, the end of the line... the Z to the A. Another jigsaw of impossible cliffs and jagged canyons, this one carved by the Virgin River and its tributaries.

Zion's famous Weeping Rock makes a fitting final destination.

It's a bowl-shaped sandstone alcove dripping with water and covered in a film of green lichen and moss.

That said, Mike Coronella suggests a different ending with a more dramatic final sign-off... Angels Landing, a stunning 1,488-foot-tall rock formation arched like the spine of a dinosaur, accessed via the Grotto Trailhead.

The trail was carved from the rock back in 1926, and it includes a now-famous metal chain to pull yourself up.

♪♪ ♪♪ Whichever ending you choose, you are now part of a very small and elite club.

So, that's the Hayduke Trail.

Not for the faint of heart.

But if you're up for it, it's a chain of marvels where each step seems more rewarding than the last.

The Hayduke is a trail that elite hikers dream about, but often will only take on after testing their mettle on the Appalachian, the Pacific Crest, and the Continental Divide trails.

But, of course, you don't have to be in that league to capture a glimpse of some of the glory.

I've just made it to my destination for today -- the Green River Overlook.

It's magnificent and it just makes me want to see more.

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