Archless National Park

 

I often go to Arches National Park specifically not to see the arches.

That might sound strange, considering the park’s name, but Arches has so much more to offer - towering sandstone monoliths, intricate erosional stone art, desert flora and fauna, and endless subtle details that reward anyone willing to slow down and look. Recently, I’ve been thinking about how most people experience national parks, and honestly, it’s a little sad.

If you’ve read any of my past posts, you know I’m not a fan of bucket-list hikes. Years ago, I noticed a growing trend on social media: people posting photos of themselves on the most difficult or famous trails in national parks. At first it seemed like mostly guys doing the macho thing - broadcasting accomplishments like badges of honor. But as more people began planning trips based on social media posts rather than guidebooks or firsthand exploration, those challenging trails began to dominate the conversation.

Before long, the “bucket list” hikes became the defining experiences of their respective parks. The message - sometimes spoken, often implied - was that if you didn’t complete the iconic hike, you hadn’t truly experienced the park.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

If you’ve gone to Zion and experienced only the stress of the lottery system, the crowded shuttle, and the nose-to-butt ascent up Angel’s Landing, then in my opinion you haven’t really experienced Zion. Zion is so much more than a single narrow trail leading to a viewpoint photographed millions of times before you arrived. There are countless other trails where solitude is still possible, where the canyon reveals itself slowly and quietly.

The same can be said of the Delicate Arch Trail in Arches. Every park has its bucket-list hikes - but every park also offers better experiences for those willing to wander beyond the obvious.

The real magic of the parks in southern Utah - and the desert Southwest in general- isn’t found in checklists. It’s found in solitude. In the deafening silence. In the scent of sun-warmed sandstone and desert plants. In the subtle beauty that reveals itself when you pause long enough to notice it.

That magic is nearly impossible to find on the most crowded trails.

Forty years ago, when I was living in New York State, I remember hiking in Letchworth State Park with some friends. Letchworth is beautiful, with several impressive waterfalls, but most of its trails are paved - or nearly paved - and going off trail is strictly forbidden.

Once I began visiting national parks in the West, I got my first taste of truly wild landscapes. On a later trip back to Letchworth, I couldn’t resist hiking down toward the river in search of quiet solitude and reflection. It didn’t take long before a ranger on the rim spotted us and shouted through a megaphone for us to leave the gorge. As his amplified voice echoed through the canyon, I remember longing for the freedom I had discovered out West.

At the time, I joked to my friends that the best thing about national parks was that “you can kill yourself there.” What I meant, of course, was that in wild places there are no guardrails. No padded edges. You’re responsible for yourself. That responsibility comes with risk- but also with freedom.

And the rewards can be immense - sometimes even life-changing.

That doesn’t mean you have to venture deep into the backcountry to experience the magic of the desert. Far from it. Often, it’s simply about slowing down and paying attention.

In Arches National Park, for example, there are many opportunities for at-large exploration. Follow the rules: travel on slickrock - the smooth, resilient sandstone - and avoid stepping on fragile biocrust. From there, trust your instincts. Wander a little. Look closely. Listen carefully.

Seek out the magic of the desert. It’s there- you just have to notice it.

The photos in this collection come from a springtime visit to Arches National Park. It was a day of wandering, a day full of quiet discoveries - and a day without arches.

When I look back on forty years of exploring this park, my best memories aren’t about the arches.

In fact, they have nothing to do with them.

Photographer Tips

One of the lesser known joys of Arches National Park is the freedom to wander off trail - with a few common sense restrictions. If you choose to explore beyond the established paths, you must stay on durable surfaces like bare slickrock or sandy washes, and avoid stepping on vegetation or the dark, bumpy biological soil crust that carpets much of the desert. That fragile crust is alive, and a single careless step can undo decades of slow growth.

There are a few hard rules worth remembering. Never climb on arches - it’s strictly off limits. Overnight trips into the backcountry require permits, keep your group small, and pack out everything you bring, including trash and food scraps.

Out here, there are no guardrails - just open country and the responsibility that comes with it. Treat the desert gently, travel thoughtfully, and it will reward you in ways that crowded trails never can.