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Rock On!
Pack up your sense of adventure for a spine-tingling family trek through three national parks out West
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Today's challenging mission, announces our guide, Greg Istock, is to rappel and climb deep into a slot canyon near Zion National Park, find a nuclear bomb, disarm it, and save the United States.
"Only the United States?" asks my son, Joe, a fan of Stargate SG-1 and the Percy Jackson adventures, so he knows all about saving civilization. "What about the rest of the world?"
Good point, Greg says. So it's the world we'll be saving. What more can you ask for on a family vacation?
I started imagining this trip years ago while driving through southern Utah, an Easterner awed by the big rocks. I wanted my children to see this otherworldly country, and I wanted to challenge them to explore nature's rugged, sometimes demanding, beauty, not just gawk at it like bystanding YouTubers.
The plan was to land in Las Vegas and hit the road, navigating a weeklong, 800-mile route through Nevada, Utah, and Arizona. We'd make a grand circle to visit Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks, with possible side trips to the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument or the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, before ending at the paramount tourist treasure, the Grand Canyon.
Day One's Mission: Watch the Sunset
We didn't jump right into saving the world, though. That came on day two. On our first afternoon, following an early flight west, we meet Dean Woods and Jorge Visser of Zion Rock & Mountain Guides for a sunset Jeep tour. As we roll up the winding Kolob Terrace Road outside Virgin, Utah, Woods, a co-owner of the guide company, ticks off the sights along Zion National Park's east side, including Tabernacle, West Temple, and the north and south Guardian Angel peaks.
The sun dips, highlighting the luminescent red, white, and gray of the towering sandstone monuments created over hundreds of millions of years. We stop twice to take pictures, once at an overlook reached by walking through a thicket of bushes. Kimiko, my 15-year-old daughter, is the first to the cliff's edge. "Oh, wow!" we hear as we approach.
Back on the road, Dean tells us we're cutting across the Smith Mesa, 6,000 feet high, looking for a place to watch the sun set. Ann Burns, my 11-year-old daughter with the two-word first name, and Kimiko are with us in the second Jeep following Jorge in the lead one with Joe, 11, and Cate, my wife. "Looks like Jorge sees something," Dean says as we follow off-road, steeply up and over a boulder, the Jeep pitching so sharply sideways it seems like we're about to go two-wheeling.
"Have you been this way before?" asks Ann Burns, who loves roller coasters and flight simulators, but seems nervous. "No," answers Dean. We tilt this way and that, make a sharp turn, nearly brush a few trees, and continue up, entering a small clearing atop a stony point dotted with sunflowers swaying in the dying day's breeze.
Our timing is perfect. To the east across, Zion's peaks are highlighted by the setting sun and their own craggy shadows. Ann Burns, Joe, and Kimiko bound over the rocks between our admonitions to "get back from the edge!" — ooohing and aahing, taking photograph after photograph. The girls try to describe the changing colors as the light fades: blue, purple, orange, white.
The sun surrenders to inky darkness and soon, too soon, we are hurtling down a dirt road headed for the highway and a ride through the park to our cabin and welcome sleep. I look back and, in my Jeep, Ann Burns and Kimiko doze by the light of the full moon.
Day Two's Mission: Save the World
Did you have a good time last night?" Greg asks when we pull in to the Zion Rock & Mountain Guides shop to pick up our gear the next morning. "Because our goal today is to have an even better time."
That means we're going canyoneering, a sport combining rappelling, hiking, and rock climbing, not to mention the occasional frigid swim.
We'll get muddy, Greg explains. We'll likely get scraped and bruised. It's an adventure, a new challenge every few minutes. "Sounds great," replies Ann Burns.
We slip into La Sportiva river shoes with Spider-Man-sticky bottoms and grab rappelling harnesses, then ride 30 minutes west of Springdale into Dixie National Forest to a slot canyon called Yankee Doodle, a rocky gash screened in morning shadow.
We're given the assignment that energizes Joe's imagination: Go deep into the canyon and disarm the bomb. What should we name our team? Greg asks. "The people," replies Joe, ever the populist.
"How about the ‘Peeps'?" Greg suggests. Unanimous approval. He'll give bonus points for those who follow instructions well, figure out problems, and celebrate. Celebration, he adds, is an important part of the adventure.
After the first "starter" rappel about 30 feet into the canyon, Joe assures me that he's uncovered a hidden transmitter and radioed back that we've begun the mission. A short walk and a scramble over a boulder leads to the highlight of the trip, a 130-foot rappel down a wall that Ann Burns says "looks like someone took a knife and carved the rock." There's a tricky start, working around a boulder and then a mid-rappel adjustment, moving from one slab of angled rock to another.
Joe, who can be tentative trying new things, demands to be first. After all, the world's fate is in our hands. He takes his time, celebrating with a "Woo-hoo!" halfway and an "Oh, yeah!" when he reaches the ground. Ann Burns nimbly negotiates the rappel, as does Kimiko, who pauses halfway down to hang, enjoy the view, and celebrate.
We work through a canyon section requiring us to slide over a boulder and "chimney" down the walls, bracing our backs against one side and our feet against the other. Then we negotiate a cold, muddy trough of foul-smelling water.
After more down climbing over boulders, we come to a pool at the base of a short rock wall. "Why do you think it's called a keeper hole?" Greg asks. "Because it's hard to get out," answer a couple of the kids.
Exactly, he says, adding that he wants them to solve the problem. Kimiko tries, swimming across and launching herself belly first onto the round slick rock. "That's called the beached whale technique," Greg notes. Cate is last, using her palms to push herself onto the rock and earn bonus points.
From there, it's a short hike into the sunshine of the canyon floor for lunch. Only then do I realize how deep we are and how steep the walls are. The climb out is aided by ropes, requiring us to perch on ledges with heart-stopping views. Along the way, Joe says he finds and disarms the bomb hidden beneath a rock. The world is safe.
At the top, the Peeps team celebrates. We've shared an adventure. We've built confidence overcoming challenges. And we've generated enough "remember when" stories to last years.
Day Three's Mission: Find Happiness
Our mission today, Greg says as we ride the shuttle bus up Zion National Park's scenic drive, is to find the red rock of happiness on our hike through the Narrows, Zion's quintessential experience. What's the red rock of happiness? Whatever you decide it is. In some places, the Virgin River has carved Navajo Sandstone cliffs 30 feet apart and 1,000 feet high. The river is the route; half the hike is in cold water up to thigh high.
Our goal is to reach a section several miles ahead named Wall Street because the canyon narrows so dramatically there, making the view spectacular. It's slow going. The river bends so frequently that every few minutes we stumble upon a new vista, dramatic sculptures in ocher, tan, black, and gray. "Awesome," Ann Burns says as we come around a corner and see sandstone streaked in black, glowing in the morning sun.
We press on, reaching the entrance to Orderville Canyon, a slot that cuts into the Narrows, using our new canyoneering skills to negotiate a large boulder. We come to a pool where hikers are eating lunch. "If any of you go swimming, we're taking pictures," one guy says. "It's cold." The girls demur, but Joe jumps in, raising a fist in triumph for the camera. "Brave kid," the guy says.
We find a sunny lunch spot. Wall Street is just around the corner; we've made it. The walls, burnished dark black and orange and dramatically close, don't disappoint. Greg encourages us on, feeling the kids still have enough energy to explore more before turning back.
On our way to the shuttle stop, all of us have at least one red rock of happiness; Joe has a half-dozen.
Greg recommends we eat in nearby Springdale, Utah, at the Whiptail Grill, a restaurant in an old gas station. We have thick strands of calamari lightly fried and served with a basil aioli and a marinara sauce; seared tuna tacos with sweet grapes, cabbage, and a spicy southwestern sauce; and a spaghetti squash and goat cheese enchilada. It's an unexpectedly artful and adventurous meal matching the day.
Day Four's Mission: Make a Move
The view from 9,000 feet at Rainbow Point at the end of the Bryce Canyon Scenic Drive is so jaw-dropping we're silent. Well worth a late-day push. We had slept late at our Zion Mountain Ranch cabin before driving to Zion for two quick hikes along the intimidating Canyon Overlook Trail and the cool, easy Emerald Pools Trail.
Getting to Bryce, we decide to drive through the park to take photographs in the late afternoon light. Zion is massive rock slabs and a deeply carved canyon; Bryce is fragile-looking hoodoos (carved by freezing and thawing) in electric shades of orange, rose, and ivory so large and so close they're almost personable, something out of a sci-fi flick.
Ann Burns and Kimiko beg to hike below the rim at Rainbow Point, the park's southern end, but it's late. It's time to get dinner and check in at the Stone Canyon Inn, chosen for its proximity to the park and the spacious cabin with a well-appointed kitchen.
Day Five's Mission: Walk Among Hoodoos
We arrive early at Bryce Canyon National Park's gate to learn the drive's southern portion is impassable because of a controlled burn, so we can't make a return trip to hike below Rainbow Point's rim. But Sunset Point, closer to the park's entrance, is open, so we can hike to the base of the cliffs and into the Douglas fir and bristlecone pine forest.
Morning light slants through the rock walls, making them fluorescent orange and rose as we descend the steep switchbacks of the Navajo Trail loop. The landscape is beautiful, eerie, and breathtaking. Ann Burns and Kimiko use canyoneering techniques to explore side inlets; Joe spots an indentation in the rock and wonders if it's a dinosaur footprint. We shift over to the Queen's Garden Trail for close looks at hoodoos in ivory and pink.
In the afternoon, we take a short hike to splash in a waterfall on the Mossy Cave Trail outside the park. We close the evening with steaks on the grill and a long, welcome soak in the cabin's hot tub. "Ah," says Joe, leaning back, "this is the life."
Day Six's Mission: Complete the Circle
After a five-hour drive, having decided there's no time to stop at south-central Utah's Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, we reach northern Arizona's Grand Canyon National Park. On the road in from the east gate, we stop at the Moran Point overlook. "Immense, this is immense," Joe says. Ann Burns is disappointed to learn it's not possible to rappel down the side.
At the south rim, clouds darken to the west and the question is whether the sunset or the storm will arrive first. Joe explores the formations through the telescope, then each of the girls takes a look. Soon, the canyon floor transforms as the rock formations take their turns spotlighted by the dropping sun, first the Tower of Set, then Isis Temple, and the Cheops Pyramid.
I wonder what the kids think of the Grand Canyon compared with the others. Kimiko has an answer: It's huge, but not as beautiful or accessible, more something to look at than experience, she says.
We've dodged the storm; it starts raining as we get into the car. On the dark, two-lane road from the canyon south to the Interstate, hundreds of dots blink overhead, a display unfathomable for city kids.
"Look at all the stars," Ann Burns says. Fifteen minutes later, she can't contain herself. "Look at all the stars," she says again. Her eyes — all our eyes — are open wider in wonder.
Mission accomplished.
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