My first visit to Zion National Park was about 30 or 35 years ago. I remember thinking it was quite beautiful, and I also remember driving into Zion Canyon to hike.
I last visited Zion in October of 2011. Even then, driving into the canyon was no longer an option; I had to catch a bus to get to the trails. The upside was that I could easily take one-way hikes, starting at one bus stop and ending at another.
This year I set off for Zion before sunrise, to ensure I arrived at the Visitor Center before all the parking spaces were gone. I got there just in time to get one of the last spaces (!) and hopped on a bus.
I began my hike by crossing the Virgin River on a footbridge. At one point I looked back and saw several folks fording the river on horseback. I especially like this scene because it shows both how high the canyon walls are and how tiny we people are in comparison.
I headed for the Emerald Pools and got to the Middle Pool just as the sun illuminated the canyon walls — and before most of the other tourists had arrived.
That was essentially where the fun and games ended. From then on, it seemed as if there were long lines of people on each and every trail. That phenomenon was most pronounced on an easy little trail that led to the mouth of The Narrows, a slot canyon through which many folks hike each year.1 If you’re looking for peace and solitude, you should not consider The Narrows.
I took the bus back to the Visitor Center where there were incredibly long lines of people waiting to get onto buses into the canyon. I resolved right then and there never, ever to go back to Zion. It was too crazy.2
Happily, there were many fewer people in the east side of the park, which showed numerous examples of what I think of as the tenacity of life — plants and trees growing out of rock, surviving and thriving.3
I came to understand that I engage in the practice of photography on a continuing basis. This year I thought, “I’ll go back to Zion and this time I’ll take good photos.” Maybe so … but looking back, I got good shots the other times too. They were just different from this year's.4
Definitely not including yours truly. While I’m up for short walks through slot canyons, the idea of hiking through a slot as long and deep as The Narrows scares the living daylights out of me. Seems like people die in flash floods there almost every year. (Click/tap here if you want to see a flash flood in another Utah canyon that occurred earlier this year. It shows basically everything you should not do in a narrow canyon, such as continuing to drive in while it’s raining.)
Interestingly, I recently read that cruises have become mob scenes as well. Perhaps it’s a post-pandemic travel phenomenon.
I came away with a couple of other thoughts as well. The first, which is not new, is that our national parks are mostly just big. There are many other equally or more beautiful places in the US which (thankfully) are not national parks.
I also mused about the nature of nostalgia. So often I think we’re nostalgic for an imagined past that never actually existed. But in southern Utah and northern Arizona, I found myself nostalgic for a past, with many fewer people, that actually did exist at one time — in my lifetime, even.
Oh no! Zion is on my list. I'm sad to hear how crowded it has become. Yes to there being many, many other beautiful places to explore.
I know what you mean by that nostalgia for a time that had way less human traffic almost everywhere, especially National Parks and similar places. I'd love to see Pueblo Bonito in Chaco Canyon and the Bisti Badlands before I die, but I imagine they will be crowded these days, too. Southern UT and northern AZ are still on my list.