Bryce, Zion & The North Rim of the Grand Canyon

There are three national parks in northern Arizona and southern Utah. Bryce Canyon, Zion, and Grand Canyon. Each one is dramatically different from the others, yet when united, this majestic trio tells the grand saga that is Earth history. Together, they're separate chapters of a single story, and the story is told in layers of rock. Millions of visitors trek to these national parks to discover the wilderness of these landscapes, preserved and protected for future generations by the National Park Service. As we travel northward between Grand Canyon and Bryce Canyon National Parks, a series of cliffs rise up, one after the other, each one higher than the one south of it. Due to the vast scale of distance and time that it covers, most travelers struggle to appreciate the analogy of these giant steps. It helps to think of the Grand Canyon as the bottom of the Grand Staircase, Zion as the middle, and Bryce as the top. In our tour of the three parks, we'll climb the Grand Staircase. The Grand Staircase is this huge sequence of sedimentary rock. It stretches for hundreds of miles in either direction, and what it is is like a gigantic history book that tells the story of Earth history. You end up with all these layers representing chapters and even individual pages, and nowhere else on planet Earth can you find as much of Earth history perfectly preserved as in the Grand Staircase. So you can go back to about 600 million years ago, even further as far as a billion years ago if you go down into the bowels of the Grand Canyon, and the whole story is here. One of the first people to take a look at it, one of the first geologists, when they looked just north from the Grand Canyon up here to Bryce, they could see all of these layers, all of these chapters in this book of Earth's history. And as they looked at this and they saw that each chapter had a new level, it looked just like a Grand Staircase, a giant's staircase. The lowest step of the Grand Staircase is the Kaibab Plateau. Its edge is at the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The limestone here at the rim is over 225 million years old. Yet if you brave the hike down into the abyss, you'll descend much further down and backwards in time. Over a mile below the rim, in parts of the canyon's inner gorge, the dark walls are composed of rock nearly two billion years old. There's no other place on Earth where you can see such a vast span of time displayed so clearly in layers of rock. No hotel can boast a more dramatic location than Grand Canyon Lodge. It's perched directly on the rim of the canyon. Master architect Gilbert Stanley Underwood, famous for seamlessly integrating his beautiful buildings into the immediate landscape, designed this lodge and gave the visitor a unique first look at the canyon. From the forest side, this building appears to be a hunting lodge. But from the canyon side, it more resembles a Puebloan clifftop village. While many fail to appreciate the architectural triumph of this subtle effect, all are astonished upon entering the sunroom. And there, finally, is the canyon, revealed by the lodge's massive windows. In its heyday, motor buses would take Union Pacific travelers from the train depot directly to the front door of this magnificent original lodge. When guests left the lodge, the lodge staff would gather outside for a musical farewell known as a sing-away. The lodge tragically burned down in 1934, but it was rebuilt three years later in 1937, and to this day retains many of the most evocative aspects of the original's design. Today, it's hard for us to believe that the first official government exploration party reported in 1853 that the Grand Canyon region was, quote, altogether valueless. It seems intended by nature that the Colorado River shall be forever unvisited and undisturbed. Our lives are much richer now, since we've learned to enjoy the marvels of nature around us. There are several spectacular overlooks on the rim just below the lodge. Bright Angel Point, surely one of the park's most dazzling views, is within a short strolling distance. Though the most famous hiking trails plunge into the depths of the canyon, they can easily become infamous trails for those who overestimate their abilities and underestimate the combined difficulty of steep trails, blazing sun, and the thin, dry, high-altitude air. Guided mule trips are available, and you don't have to be an experienced rider to enjoy them. Here at Point Imperial, we're farther upriver, and at a higher elevation than at any other major overlook on either rim. This section of the canyon has large tributaries flowing into it, which makes the overall canyon wider. But it's not as deep as it is at Bright Angel Point. The most conspicuous landmark at Point Imperial is the thumb-shaped spire called Mount Hayden. It's composed of hard sandstone, standing on a base of softer red shale. The North Rim's abundant wildlife is a special pleasure for visitors. Visitors are usually most interested in the famous long-eared kaibab squirrels. They're found here on the Kaibab Plateau and nowhere else. These handsome gray animals are easily recognized by their characteristic long, tufted ears and large, white tail. And speaking of ears, those of the mule deer are pretty distinctive, too. It's often possible to see these wary animals in early morning and late evening. Wild turkeys can frequently be seen in the meadows and forests of the North Rim. Cape Royal is the name of the tip of a long plateau that juts far out into the canyon. Below this point, the Colorado River swings around in a wide curve to the west. The river is in sight from several places here. Rapids, diminished by distance, barely hint at the whitewater chaos that float trips still find in some stretches of the Colorado. Millions of years ago, massive forces within the earth uplifted this area. The primeval river began cutting its channel deeper and deeper into the layers of rock. Since then, the main canyon and its side canyons have been steadily widened by erosion and weathering. Probably the most eye-catching feature at Cape Royal is Angel's Window, a natural arch. Erosion has carved an opening in a limestone fin that projects out from the rim. A trail leads along the crest of the fin to a vantage point that gives you a real top-of-the-world feeling. Late in the day, it's pleasant to return to the lodge to enjoy the special magic of sunset at the North Rim. At these times, the air itself often seems to turn golden, and Grand Canyon becomes a personal experience. Here at the North Rim, the first step of our Grand Staircase Tour has brought us to one of the supreme spectacles the world has to offer. As you head toward Zion, the park road passes through meadows and forests. There are fine groves of aspen here. In autumn, their leaves turn a vibrant yellow, and it's a perfect place to take a chilly afternoon stroll. Before descending into the broad plain below, watch for Lefevre Overlook on the right-hand side of the road. Here is the one place where you can see all five of the gigantic steps of the Grand Staircase. After leaving Grand Canyon and heading for Zion National Park, the next steps of the Grand Staircase appear ahead of us. The Vermilion Cliffs transition into the sandstone of the White Cliffs. The Virgin River cuts all the way down through both layers. Unlike Bryce and the Grand Canyon, where you're looking down from above, in Zion, the roads are down in the bottom of the canyon. Everywhere, sheer, rocky ramparts soar upward to the sky. In places, the canyon walls tower 3,000 feet overhead. Park your car at the visitor center and board the free, clean-air shuttle buses to begin your journey deep into the canyon. The road is never far from the Virgin River, which winds its way through the canyon. The river's serene stretches conceal its potential power and turbulent past. This is the stream that, with help from other natural erosive forces, carved these walls and created Zion Canyon. The sheer rock walls just are awe-inspiring, no matter how you look at it. I don't think you can look at Zion without having a feeling of awe, because it's so huge. And when you stand at the bottom of the canyon, unlike the Grand Canyon, where you're looking down, you stand at the bottom of Zion Canyon and look up, and you just get an idea of how small you really are. The most striking part of Zion National Park is when you make the turn going up Zion Canyon, and you start to see those magnificent cliffs that are so close to you. You're driving past them, and you can't take it in all in one vision. You have to look at the bottom and then look up. You can't see it all at once. Wildlife is abundant in Zion Canyon. While you're visiting, you may see wild turkeys, herds of mule deer, and if you're lucky, you may spot a roaming bighorn sheep or two. Porcupines and raccoons are shy and often only come out at night. Visitors arriving at the south entrance are greeted by a peak called the Watchman. From this point on, we are deep within the walls of Zion. On the left rise up the imposing figures of the Three Patriarchs. The first European Americans to visit Zion revered the canyons as a spiritual place. Many prominent landmarks, such as Court of Patriarchs and Great White Throne, reflect their religious contemplations. An early Mormon settler recalled a Bible reference to a place located in the top of the mountains and called the area Zion. In 1906, at the St. Louis World's Fair, a man named Frederick Dellenbaugh had an exhibit of Zion paintings on display. And visitors were milling about the room, looking at his paintings and commenting to themselves that they thought the paintings were fabrications and that no place could actually look like this. Well, as it turned out, a returning Mormon missionary, who was heading back to his home in Utah, stopped in St. Louis and he assured the visitors that indeed this was a real place and these were accurate renditions of what Zion looked like. He pointed here and said, my house is just right over there. And Dellenbaugh's paintings really were the first time that the outside world in mass became aware of the beauty of Zion and really started spurring visitation to the canyon. By the summer of 1917, a road into Zion was built and touring cars could reach the canyon. That same year, William W. Wiley established Camp Wiley, providing tents for visitors and paving the way for tourism in years to come. The Union Pacific Railroad continued tourism here in Zion, offering 10-day rail and bus tours to Bryce, Zion, and the Grand Canyon. Lodges at all three parks were designed by Gilbert Stanley Underwood. One of the most amazing stories in early Zion's history is the 1.1-mile Zion-Mt. Carmel Tunnel, which made it possible to reach the east side of the park and connected the road to Bryce. Construction started in 1927. Six windows, or galleries, were created so that multiple drilling teams could work simultaneously, drilling slowly toward each other. Then came the laborious process of boring straight through the side of the mountain. Air and water were pumped in from the valley below. Dynamite blasts reverberated around the canyon. It took 313 days to complete the tunnel, and the road was not finished until three years later in 1930. The tunnel remains in service to this day. First built in 1925, fine accommodations and meals are still available at Zion Lodge, several miles farther into the canyon. A variety of tours, including horseback trips, are offered. One of the park's most popular short excursions begins just across the Virgin River from the lodge. The easy trail to Emerald Pools first crosses a footbridge and then continues up a gentle grade to the lowest of three pools. The waterfalls are the big attractions on this trail. Several small falls spill over a broad overhanging ledge and drop into the lower pool. The trail to the uppermost pool is considerably more strenuous, but the spectacular setting rewards the effort. It's easy to think of Zion as an arid place, but when compared to the surrounding region, Zion is an oasis. Water is found in many locations here, and some more surprising than others. This is aptly named Weeping Rock, about three miles up canyon from Zion Lodge. Here, instead of dripping down the face of the cliff, rainwater percolates down through the porous sandstone. The volume of water varies with the season, and at times the rock does a lot more than simply weep. Here, for example, is what is called an ephemeral waterfall. The snowmelt has found its way through the canyon walls and formed an outpouring that will only last one or two months, and then it will vanish completely. Zion offers some splendid opportunities for longer, more strenuous hikes, and the climb to the top of Angel's Landing is one of the best. Once up here on top, you can gain a far better appreciation of how massive these rock walls really are than you can from the canyon floor. The main road into Zion Canyon ends at the Temple of Sinawava, a natural haven enclosed by high rock walls. Here, in the shadow of the Great White Throne, is the start of one of the most exciting trails that Zion has to offer. A short distance upstream, the Virgin River spills out of the narrowest part of Zion Canyon. That deep, rocky cleft is called the Narrows. In the summer, the water level of the river is low enough to wade into this primal place, where there is only rock and water. The chasm glows in the indirect light, and the echoing rush of the river creates a strange and eerie atmosphere. Here, the rest of the world is far, far away. In the heart of Zion Canyon, a rainstorm can be an astonishingly dramatic experience. Zion Canyon isn't the only part of the National Park where there are sweeping views of high, red rock cliffs. The Kolob Canyons area in the northwest corner of the park is every bit as dramatic as the more famous Zion Canyon. As we leave Zion and head toward Bryce, the Zion-Mt. Carmel Highway provides a spectacular climb from the canyon floor to the high plateaus to the east. Not far above the first tunnel, a short trail leads to Canyon Overlook, which offers one of the finest panoramas of the canyon. Between Canyon Overlook and Zion's east entrance, we're entirely within the White Cliffs Steppe of the Grand Staircase. Cone-shaped checkerboard mesa is one of the park's most striking features. The horizontal rock strata are cut by vertical cracks, called fractures by geologists, creating a crisscross effect. Grand Canyon is awe-inspiring because it's so big, and it's so far away, and it's so huge. But it's not really something that you can reach out and touch like Zion is. Bryce Canyon is awe-inspiring because it's so incredibly unique. In geology, there are only three important numbers. There's 0, 1, and 3. Now, 0 in geology, if you never see it, means it doesn't happen, doesn't exist, doesn't occur. 3 means it occurs everywhere, like the building of mountains, the formation of prairies. And then there's 1. And 1 means it's an oddball. 1 means you aren't really sure how it happened because you only have 1. And here at Bryce, we're the only one on the surface of the Earth where you have this unique confluence of weathering and erosion. Now, there's only one Bryce. And so Bryce, you see, is truly unique. If the scenery at Zion compels you to look up, at Bryce, you generally look down. There are many other striking contrasts between the two parks. Zion's formations seem huge and solid. Bryce's are delicate and fragile. Towering rock formations, called hoodoos, seem to defy gravity as they reach skyward. The sheer number and variety of spires and pinnacles dazzle the eye and all but numb the mind. Yovimpa Point is at the far end of Bryce, the southernmost tip of the National Park. From here, the steps of the Grand Staircase descend back down to the Grand Canyon, where we began our journey. Bryce is located in the Pink Cliffs, the topmost step of the staircase. The elevation at this point is over 9,000 feet, the park's highest overlook. Here at the park's southern end, there are also strands of ancient bristlecone pines. These rugged veterans, their gnarled old roots tenaciously gripping the cliff edge, are up to 1,700 years old. They form a silent and stately testimony to the survival of life under hardship. Most people start their tour of Bryce at the Visitor Center at the northern end of the park, near the entrance. Not far away is Bryce Canyon Lodge. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, who designed the lodges at Zion and Grand Canyon's north rim, crafted the Bryce Canyon Lodge to blend into the ponderosa pine trees that surrounded it, a safe distance away from Bryce's quickly eroding rim. So what Gilbert Stanley Underwood used for inspiration was those pine branches, those boughs that would wave in the wind. And he mimicked that in that undulating pattern that you see in the roof shingles on top of the lodge. Music and energy was very much a part of this lodge. Whenever visitors arrived, all the employees would come out onto the patio and they'd wave and they'd sing and they'd welcome you in. And then again when you left, they would all come out to the patio and they'd wave and sing and say goodbye. And then in the auditorium, every night there was musical shows, variety shows. There was just all kinds of life and energy. Bryce Canyon isn't technically a canyon at all. Instead of being carved by flowing water, it's a series of amphitheaters eroded into the vividly colored limestone of the pink cliffs. The geology of Bryce Canyon is a product of the freezing and thawing of water. The technical term is frost wedging. And frost wedging happens everywhere it freezes. But the spectacular thing about Bryce Canyon is that we have 200 days a year where we go above and below freezing in the course of every single day. So that's pretty much from the beginning of September all the way around again until June. So if you have snow on top of the formations, imagine this hand with the cracks in it being the rock. We've got snow here. As the snow melts, the water trickles down inside the holes in the rock. And then later at night when it freezes, it not only expands but it gets harder and it slowly breaks open over hundreds and thousands of years. These holes, until they're so large they can no longer support the weight of the roof. And when that collapses, the delicate sticky up bits on either side, we call those the hoodoos. As in any scenic park, many of the formations have been given descriptive names, like the Sinking Ship and Thor's Hammer. Bryce, in its more subtle way, is every bit as wondrous as its sister park. Where Zion was colossal in scale, however, Bryce is infinitely intricate and detailed. Those visitors who can should leave the roads and the overlooks behind and hike down among the maze of hoodoos and slot canyons. On the overlook at Sunrise Point, people can scan a wide sea of formations. Here's a good place to begin a hike down into the canyon, starting with the Queen's Garden Trail. The Queen's Garden is an area of densely packed spires. Here you can find the majestic castle. And if you look hard enough, Queen Victoria herself is here, in all her dignity and majesty. Here below Sunrise and Sunset Points, a number of exciting trails interconnect, leading the adventurous hiker to many of the park's most well-known formations. Down here, we have a wholly different perspective on the wonders of Bryce. Here, things are not just closer, they become individual and specific. Wall Street is the name given to this narrow chasm at the bottom of the switchbacks. Down here, the light is soft and almost shadowless, and everything is bathed in an eerie reddish glow. Below Sunset Point, the popular Navajo Loop Trail comprises an almost dizzying series of switchbacks. At an elevation of about 8,000 feet, the air is thinner, and it's wise to be prepared for even the shortest of hikes. In driving from one canyon view to another, we may sometimes overlook the wholly different world of Bryce's splendid forests and meadows. A variety of animals make their home here. Mule deer can often be spotted in Bryce. Capable of speeds in excess of 60 miles per hour, pronghorn can be seen grazing alongside the road. One of the most startling discoveries the newcomer makes at Bryce is that the color and even the shape of the formations seem to change according to the position of the sun. Particularly at sunrise, when the first rays of light just touch the edges of the formations. The rock takes on a special glow that can be among the most enchanting of all park experiences. This is the time when Bryce seems to become a supernatural place, like a window into another world. Here at Bryce Canyon, we use astronomy to heighten people's awareness to the importance of natural darkness. And we're a really dark place. And the reason why darkness is so important is for not only seeing the beauty of the night sky, but because it's the fifth variable in determining the quality of habitat. You know, most people, when you learn what makes good habitat, you learn that you have food, water, shelter, space, the four things. But the fifth one is the quality of the natural darkness. Most of the mammals that we all know and love are nocturnal creatures. They're most active during the night. So when we have artificial lighting, our outdoor lighting that impacts the night, we're changing the quality of the habitat. And we're beginning to find that fifth variable is just as important as the other four. Here at Bryce Canyon, we have a 7.4 limiting magnitude. It means that on any given night, when there's not a moon in the sky, you can see 7,500 stars. By comparison, in a very rural community, let's say hypothetically we have like four farms, and they happen to meet at a corner, and they decide to incorporate, and they put up a couple of streetlights. In a place like that, you're going to be able to see maybe 2,500 stars. But here with 7,500 stars gleaming overhead, it's an entirely different view of the nighttime sky. As in most of southern Utah and northern Arizona, the vivid reds, oranges, and yellows in the rock come from different kinds of iron oxides. Individual layers of rock vary in hardness, and therefore erode at different rates. This characteristic has produced the bizarre pinnacles where harder caprock has slowed the erosion of softer strata underneath. Note the plants growing on the cap of this spire. There's still another, even more eye-catching formation not far away. Bryce's natural bridge rises over 125 feet above the gully beneath it, and erosive forces continue to enlarge it. Continue is a key word in the story of Bryce, even more importantly than at Grand Canyon and Zion. Erosion is a continuing process everywhere. But here, because of the softer rocks of the Pink Cliffs, the formations are changing faster than at the other two parks. To the average layman's eye, the famous Wall of Windows seems like an especially prominent target for erosion. This is a relatively thin wall of rock through which the forces of rain and frost have pierced a number of openings. Over a period of time, these windows will collapse as others appear. The entire formation, like every formation in the park, will eventually disintegrate. Erosion will create new ones that will take their place. This continuing cycle of decay and replacement is comparable with birth and death among living things. This is Cedar Breaks National Monument, located between Bryce and Zion. Cedar Breaks is another large natural amphitheater, even higher above sea level than Bryce. Elevations at the rim here average over 10,000 feet. In our scenic climb up the Grand Staircase, we've passed through millions upon millions of years of geological time, although the geographical distance is less than 200 miles. Far down in the bottom of the gorge of Grand Canyon, the rock strata are 2 billion years old, half the age of the Earth itself. At Bryce Canyon, the pink cliffs were laid down as lake bottom sediments 50 to 60 million years ago. Time, not distance, is the meaningful measurement in the Grand Staircase, and the length of time we've covered is so vast that it's almost unimaginable. This small area, southern Utah and northern Arizona, holds landscapes that sometimes seem like distorted visions of other worlds. But that's not what they are. They're at the very heart of our own world. These places hold clues to a long, long story. Here in the rock, symbol of solidity and permanence, are the proofs that nothing is permanent. The rock, the Earth, and everything on it are part of the long-flowing river of time. In the unknowable mysteries of the future, the only certainty is change.