Southern Utah: A Fanciful Landscape Carved by Wind and Water
The breathtaking red rock landscape of southwestern Utah is a perfect getaway for those times when you need some deep rest and rejuvenation.
In March of 2020, I, my dog Juneau, and my travel trailer were all set to camp in southern Utah, but we all know what happened last spring. Utah closed all parks and public campgrounds, dashing my hopes of seeing Utah’s magnificent landscape. Once Utah camping reopened, a friend convinced me to go in spite of the pandemic, so in late October, off I went, hoping that being outdoors would protect me from inhaling the dreaded virus. I did not get the virus, but I did get the bug to see more of our national parks.
Utah has five! Only California and Alaska have more, but Utah is a clear winner in parks per square mile. In just 450 miles of driving you can see five national parks, two national forests, two national monuments, a national recreation area, several U. S. conservation areas, and quite a few state parks, each with surprisingly different scenery. The warm red, peach and coral sandstone has been carved by water and wind into magical sculptures among buttes and canyons; the intense dessert sun and clear air create a sky blue like no other.
A trek across the flat plains of Oklahoma and the southern mountains of eastern Colorado brought us to Moab, Utah, just outside Arches National Park. The drive through the park is spectacular, with numerous scenic pull-offs. Sandstone arches, spires, and hoodoos rise against a sky so blue and bright that it seems to vibrate over the warm rusty reds and ochres of the snow-capped La Sal Mountains, visible even 30 miles away. I hiked through Park Avenue Trail, alongside its enormous vertical walls of red sandstone resembling rows of skyscrapers. Another short hike over a flat valley led to Sandstone Arch, a huge formation rising from the plain. Entered through a short, narrow canyon, the rocks open to a cool, peaceful, room with a floor of soft sand and an enormous arch above. There, two fathers were minding their toddlers while the older children sat in the sand doing homework on electronic workbooks. What a way to go to school!
Cut by the Green and the Colorado River, deep, meandering canyons join in Canyonlands National Park to form even more colossal gorges. The scenic drive along White Rim Road in Canyonlands was breathtaking, with views of magnificent canyons and cliffs. Green, shady riverbanks deep in the canyons relieve the austerity of the high desert and support most of the desert creatures, including a few humans. The Colorado River collects the water of several more streams as it flows out Canyonlands, through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, into Lake Powell, and on to Arizona and the Grand Canyon.
Just north of Glen Canyon lies Capitol Reef National Park, with even more types of sandstone formations. The ancient reef juts out of the wide valley in huge cake-like structures displaying distinct layers of colors and textures formed by the mud, sand, and debris of ancient seacoasts. Some areas of the buttes weather so that rocks roll onto the plain in whimsical arrays along the sandstone towers. We saw petroglyphs of an ancient pueblo culture along the Fremont River. In the heart of the park is the Fruita Historic District, a town settled by early Mormons who established homes and orchards in the fertile river valley. It now houses the park’s rangers and other staff as well as a restaurant. We bought lunch and ate on the lawn of nearby early military barracks, with antelope grazing nearby and magpies chattering at the adjacent table.
A drive around the southern edge of Zion National Park and through its 1930s-era tunnel leads to a unique desert terrain – odd swirls and slopes of peach, yellow and cream – and then on to Dixie National Forest brought us to cold temperatures and a completely different terrain, still sandstone, but with much more vegetation. At the top lay Bryce Canyon National Park, a fairyland of vertical pink cliffs, orange and red sandstone spires, hoodoos, and towers, with a backdrop of evergreen forest. As I climbed the steep trail, the temperature dropped even more, and banks of fog started drifting into the canyon below. At the highest lookout point, snow started falling, and by the time I returned to the trail entrance, I could barely see anything in the canyon. We decided to take a mountain shortcut to Saint George, not realizing that the snowfall would continue until we descended to lower elevations. Visibility became minimal. Fortunately, other people being more sensible, few vehicles were on the road, and winds kept the road clear. We safely descended into the warmth of the desert and on to St. George.
Zion Canyon, the prize of Zion National Park, limits the number of visitors, and you must sign in each morning to get a place in line. Zion Canyon, created by the Virgin River, is incredibly beautiful and well worth the effort. A tram took us to the base of the 1000-foot canyon, where a trail follows the river and ends as water emerges under a huge rock at the base of the canyon. Mask-covered hikers became quiet as they progressed up the trail, awed by the natural beauty of the clear aqua-tinted water, the grottos and cliffs on either side, and the towering cliffs above. Trees clung to the cliffs and shades of green dominated the landscape. Along the always-shaded areas, trickling water formed icicles on the canyon walls. As I eventually emerged from the canyon into the bright desert, I already missed the serenity of the hidden canyon.
A short drive from the striking scenery of St. George to the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area took us to the Utah-Arizona border for a last view of the Colorado River as it exits Lake Powell in Arizona and flows toward the Pacific Ocean. The lake stretches far into Utah, but it has never been at full capacity and is slowly shrinking as snowfall across its watershed decreases. The lake’s peculiar cobalt blue water is in stark contrast to the arid, colorless landscape. On the other side of the dam, the mighty Colorado continues its meandering a thousand feet below, creating the iconic Horseshoe Bend. The view from the main lookout above is one of the United States’ most memorable sights.
Restrictions on travel have decreased the number of visitors to the national parks, so the crowds were few. It’s my experience that people who visit national parks are generally respectful of the land and each other. Most people were wearing masks on trails and lookouts, and they easily strike up conversations and offer help to others. It’s as if they are excited and proud to be part-owners (a very small part!) of such beautiful lands. As Teddy Roosevelt said when he formed the National Park System from the lands that American nature lovers had helped save, “The fundamental idea behind the parks…is that the country belongs to the people, that it is in process of making for the enrichment of the lives of all of us.” When I looked up at the incredible and magical scenery of Utah, I was struck with gratitude that a few people worked to help “We the People” become stewards of the beauty of our national parks.