Dark Skies

I turned off Utah Highway 95 on a whim, seeing signs for camping. The night before, I’d choked awake in a storm of red dust, surrounded by fearless, ululating frogs, so my expectations were low. Weary, smelly, and sluggish from the record desert heat, I pulled into Natural Bridges National Monument.

As I checked the campsite board, a ranger wheeled an immense telescope into the parking lot. He noticed my interest and smiled kindly. “Come back after dusk,” he said. “We’re looking at Saturn tonight.”

I’d stumbled onto one of the darkest skies in the world—the first certified International Dark Sky Park.

Natural Bridges is 44 times smaller than nearby Canyonlands, but surrounded by one million acres of off-the-grid wilderness. The darkness there has physicality. After I set up my tent, I lay on the picnic table, and night settled on me like a shroud. Under its comforting weight, I grabbed my flashlight and walked the gravel trail to the visitor center.

About 40 whispering guests had gathered, eyes skyward. The Milky Way ran like a river above the waterless canyons. Sky Ranger Gordon told us half the kids in the U.S. will never see the galaxy, due to light pollution. Through the telescope, Saturn looked close enough to cup in my hands, and I could see individual rocks on the surface of the moon. Gordon pointed to a star with a laser. “That light you’re seeing,” he said, “left the star before the Egyptian pyramids were built.”

I stayed awake as long as I could that blessedly-cool night, marveling at the sky that is always there but always hidden from me. A revelation, in truth. I felt something calcified within me crumble and float away. Then I sank into a deep, restorative sleep.

In the morning I hiked to each natural bridge, valiant rocks shaped by long-departed water. I spoke their names like a litany: Owachomo, rock mound; Kachina, the dolls; and Sipapu, the place of emergence.


If you go: Campsites are non-reservable, so arrive early, your hair still wet from a morning dip in the Colorado River. Hike the 8.6-mile loop trail to all three bridges. Absolutely do not miss the astronomy talk, given Wednesdays and Thursdays. (The Perseids meteor shower peaks August 12-13—a great time to visit.)

The next day, strike out on your own. Dispersed camping is allowed in the vast BLM land around the park; pick up a permit at the Monticello office. As you watch the Milky Way rise over a canyon rim, you’ll feel the healing power of the country’s darkest skies.