Off the Beaten Path in the Southwest: Active Adventures in Zion and Page’s Hidden Gems

Ruth Bergman
Sep 4
18 min read

A week of Biking, hiking, and kayaking among towering rock walls, The Narrows, hidden slot canyons, and sculpted hoodoos

From San Diego to Aspen: Choosing the Long Way Around

What started as a simple plan — a two- or three-day drive from San Diego to Aspen — turned into something much bigger. At first, my goal was straightforward: get to Aspen by September 1st, 2025, and maybe see a few unique sights along the way. I’d already visited the “greatest hits” of the Colorado Plateau — the Grand Canyon, Bryce, Zion, Arches, and Canyonlands — and I thought this trip would be a chance to check out a few lesser-known spots before moving on.

But then I started digging.

Every search uncovered another hidden gem: sculpted slot canyons tucked into the desert, quiet hoodoos far from the crowds, narrow rivers winding between thousand-foot walls, waterfalls spilling from unexpected places. One idea led to another until two or three days stretched into two full weeks of active adventure.

This first post covers week one, where we based ourselves in Zion and Page, Arizona — hiking The Narrows, paddling through painted canyons, biking along red rock rims, and chasing sunsets across sculpted landscapes. A week immersed in stone, water, and sky — and yet, it was only the beginning.

Off the Beaten Path in Zion National Park

I’ve been to Zion several times over the years and thought I knew the park well. I’ve hiked Angel’s Landing and waded through The Narrows, camped beneath the towering cliffs, and ridden the shuttle up and down the canyon more times than I can count. This time, though, we were coming back with a different goal — to dig a little deeper and explore beyond the most obvious highlights. We based ourselves at the La Quinta Inn in La Verkin, about twenty miles from the park, and set out each day to see Zion from a slightly different angle.

Pedaling Through Giants: Biking Zion’s Canyon Drive

When I started planning this trip, I stumbled on a small but game-changing detail: although private cars are no longer allowed on Zion’s Scenic Drive, biking is not only permitted — it’s encouraged. It felt like the perfect discovery. We’d already planned to bring our road bikes for Aspen, and the idea of riding through one of the most stunning canyons in the Southwest on a road free of traffic was irresistible.

August in Zion is no joke — daytime highs routinely climb above 90°F — so we planned an early start. By 6:30 a.m., we were fueling up on bagels at the hotel breakfast, and before 7:30 we’d driven into the park. The strategy paid off: we found a coveted spot in the parking lot near the visitor's center, which was already filling fast.

Within minutes, we were on our bikes, coasting out of the parking lot and turning onto the Scenic Drive. The feeling was surreal. For long stretches, we had Zion entirely to ourselves. The towering red walls, glowing in the soft morning light, rose hundreds of feet above us. We stopped whenever we wanted — to take photos, to listen to the Virgin River rushing below, or simply to stand still and take it all in. At one point, the only movement in sight came from a pair of deer grazing lazily by the riverbank. A shuttle bus passed occasionally, but otherwise it was just us and the canyon.

We reached the end of the Scenic Drive at The Temple of Sinawava, where a few hikers were setting off toward The Narrows, and turned back. The ride back up the canyon was pure exhilaration — every bend revealed new cliffs, new colors, new perspectives. Eventually, a few more bikers appeared, mostly on e-bikes, and we passed clusters of hikers near the trailheads, especially around Angel’s Landing.

By the time we returned to the start of the drive, grinning and flushed from the ride, we looked at each other and didn’t even have to ask the question. “Go again?” A resounding yes.

Forty kilometers later, I realized this was one of the most precious rides I’ve ever done. Riding through Zion without cars, without crowds, felt like being absorbed into the canyon itself — a perfect blend of effort, beauty, and freedom.

Into the Narrows: Hiking the River Between the Walls

Many years ago, we hiked The Narrows with our kids, but back then we only ventured a short way in. This time, we decided to return and explore further — and with August temperatures soaring, a water hike sounded perfect.

The day before, I stopped to talk with a park ranger to get a sense of what to expect. I wanted to know about distances, landmarks, and “must-see” spots. The ranger smiled and said, “The Narrows isn’t a destination hike. It’s an experiential hike.” As a decidedly goal-oriented person, that answer left me a little uneasy. But standing there in the canyon the next day, I understood what he meant.

The hike begins gently along the Riverside Walk, a paved trail that follows the Virgin River through the canyon for about a kilometer. Here, you’re close to the river — you can see and hear it — but you’re still just an observer, walking alongside the flow. Then the pavement ends, and so does the illusion of staying dry.

At that point, you have a choice: turn back… or step into the river. On most hikes, you’d go out of your way to keep your shoes dry, but here there’s no middle ground. You wade right in, water swirling around your ankles and calves, and sometimes higher. Your feet are wet for the entire hike — occasionally your shorts, and even your shirt, too.

Once you commit, the immersion is complete. You become part of the river itself, winding through a canyon where sandstone walls soar hundreds of feet overhead and close in so tightly in places you can almost touch both sides. The sound of the water, the coolness around your legs, the shifting patterns of light — it’s mesmerizing.

Since our first hike years ago, though, The Narrows has grown in popularity. Outfitters now rent specialized shoes and poles, and their marketing has brought many more hikers into the river. By mid-morning, we found ourselves among a steady stream of fellow adventurers — all wading, balancing, and grinning at the same shared wonder.

And yet, despite the crowds, the experience remains magical. In a place this unique, it’s hard to blame anyone for wanting to be here. The Narrows isn’t about solitude or speed — it’s about surrendering to the rhythm of the river and letting the canyon pull you deeper, step by step.

Chasing the Last Light: Ending the Day on a High Note

With daytime temperatures well above 90°F, we quickly settled into a rhythm: tackle our big adventure first thing in the morning, retreat to the hotel air-conditioning during the heat of the day, and then head out again in the late afternoon for something shorter and more relaxed. By 5 p.m., the worst of the heat had eased, and the low sun promised a softer, warmer light — perfect for exploring.

I started my search the way I usually do: a quick query for “sunset spots near Zion Canyon.” Even when I don’t plan to stay for the full sunset, these places tend to catch the best light. That’s how I stumbled on the Zion Canyon Overlook Trail, a short but spectacular one-mile hike that somehow had escaped my attention on previous visits.

The trail is unassuming at first, winding up through rocky outcrops and patches of scrub, but the payoff is enormous. At the overlook, the canyon opens up beneath you in a sweeping panorama, and because the view faces west, the lowering sun bathes the walls in gold and amber before slipping below the cliffs. We lingered until the last light faded, soaking in the scene — hard to believe I’d missed this trail all these years.

On another evening, I tried to track down the Babylon Arch Trailhead, but the directions led us onto a sandy dirt road that didn’t look inviting for our car. Instead, we detoured to the La Verkin Overlook, which turned out to be its own quiet reward — an open vista where the Virgin River snakes through wide, layered valleys. It wasn’t the dramatic rock formation we set out for, but standing there in the stillness of late afternoon, it felt like a perfect way to close the day.

Off the Beaten Path in Page, Arizona

Just a three-hour drive from Zion, Page, Arizona sits right on the border of Utah and Arizona, at the crossroads of some of the Southwest’s most iconic landscapes — Glen Canyon, Lake Powell, Grand Staircase-Escalante, and the Vermilion Cliffs. For many visitors, there are three must-see highlights: Lake Powell, Antelope Canyon, and Horseshoe Bend. We skipped the famous Antelope Canyon — it’s currently only accessible on Navajo-led guided tours — and instead sought out other, quieter canyons. In doing so, we discovered so many more adventures tucked among these surreal, sculpted formations, where time and water have carved the rock into a playground of curves, waves, and hidden passages.

Through the Slot: Wire Pass to Buckskin Gulch

On our route from Zion to Page, we passed right by Buckskin Gulch, which my research had called “the ultimate in canyon-country slot canyons.” The easiest way in is through Wire Pass, and “easy” here is relative. In the Southwest, easy means driving 10 miles down a gravel road — passable, yes, but bone-jarring all the same.

When we finally pulled into the trailhead, the mood shifted immediately. There were warning signs everywhere: bring plenty of water, beware of flash floods, you are entering a remote wilderness. A few cars sat in the lot, but there were almost no people in sight. This was what we’d come here for — the off-the-beaten-path feeling, vast and quiet.

The Wire Pass Trail starts innocently enough, winding through a sandy wash. It was already mid-morning, the sun climbing and the heat pressing down, but within ten minutes we reached our first slot canyon — and instantly, everything changed. The air cooled, the light softened, and narrow walls rose above us, just wide enough to brush both sides with outstretched arms.

The trail slipped between shadow and sun, opening briefly before tightening again into another slot. Here we encountered a ladder, set up to help hikers down a small drop — unexpected, and already more adventurous than we’d imagined. Soon after, we reached the confluence with Buckskin Gulch, marked by a wide grotto and ancient petroglyphs — ibex etched into the stone, frozen mid-run by hands hundreds of years old.

From here, the trail split left and right. My research had hinted that the right fork was something special, so we turned that way without hesitation. Within minutes, the canyon narrowed again, its walls soaring up like those in Zion’s Narrows — except here, we were alone.

Then we hit water. At first, it was just ankle-deep, familiar enough after our Narrows hike, but it quickly turned to mud — thick, slippery, and clinging. Each step became a tug-of-war with the earth. We waded from one pool to the next, sometimes ankle-deep, sometimes thigh-deep, until we reached a hiker returning from further ahead. “Chest-deep water up there,” he warned us with a grin. We exchanged looks, shrugged, and pressed on.

At that point, we left our packs — and my good camera — behind. From here forward, it was about being in the canyon, not photographing it. Wet to the waist, shoes heavy with mud, we wandered deeper into twisting shadows and cool stone corridors. It was silent, solitary, and breathtaking — exactly what we’d come to the Southwest to find.

After another half hour, the canyon began to widen. We paused in the sunlight, soaking in the vastness, before reluctantly turning back. We’d walked nearly 6 kilometers, just scratching the surface of Buckskin Gulch’s 12-mile span, but it felt complete. The return trip wound us back through the same slots, each turn revealing familiar walls from a new angle, until we finally stepped back into the sunlit wash where we’d begun.

Back at the trailhead, we couldn’t believe the day we’d had. While crowds packed into Antelope Canyon and the Narrows, we’d spent hours wandering through miles of sculpted sandstone, light, and shadow — almost entirely alone. It felt like one of the Southwest’s best-kept secrets, and we couldn’t quite believe we’d stumbled into it.

Hidden Canyons: A Lake Powell Kayak Adventure

I was still debating whether to spend $140 per person on a guided tour of the famous Antelope Canyon when I stumbled across a write-up about kayaking on Lake Powell to a lesser-known section of the canyon. It wasn’t the same as the heavily trafficked slot everyone raves about, but it promised solitude, adventure, and a bit of paddling — all appealing after two days of hiking and canyon exploration.

As you may know if you’ve read my blog, we are kayaking snobs. I called every rental company in Page looking for proper sea kayaks — no dice. Only sit-on-top kayaks were available. Not the same experience we usually seek, but perfect for jumping in for a swim in August’s desert heat. In the end, we went with Lake Powell Paddle, right at Antelope Point Marina. By 8 a.m., we were on the water.

The lake was calm and quiet, with few boats disturbing its mirrorlike surface. A handful of other kayakers floated nearby, but mostly we could hear fish jumping and the gentle splash of our paddles. After about 3 km, we reached the entrance to Antelope Canyon, still filled with Glen Canyon Dam water. Another 2 km of paddling through the narrowing canyon brought us to the landing — sun just spilling over the walls, reflections dancing on the water.

We beached our kayaks on a small sandy stretch, surrounded by six or so other kayaks, and swapped into hiking shoes. After the slot canyon adventures of the last two days, we weren’t taking any chances. With water and snacks in tow, we set off to explore.

Although this section of Antelope Canyon isn’t the famous slot, I was astonished by its narrowest passage. Walking through it felt like becoming water itself — undulating around the curved canyon walls, slipping and sliding as the canyon dictated. The canyon seemed endless; I wondered if we might eventually reach the famous section, but a large boulder at 3.5 km signaled a natural turnaround. We paused frequently to play, take photos, and snack, soaking in the canyon from every angle.

The return paddle was warmer, and more boats and kayaks were on the water, but it never felt crowded. A refreshing swim cooled us off, and before long we were back at the marina.

It had been another elating day of discovery — desert vistas, sculpted rock, cool water, and that rare feeling of having a hidden canyon almost entirely to ourselves.

Pedaling the Dam: Biking from Page to Wahweap Marina

With our mornings packed with hiking and kayaking, it seemed only right to explore Page on two wheels as well. When I found a bike route that goes over the Glen Canyon Dam, the biker — and engineer — in me couldn’t resist.

We set out a little late, just after 8 a.m., and the desert sun was already climbing. Cruising down the hill from our hotel toward the dam, we followed the mapped route confidently — until a sign in ten languages warned that the road was closed. As seasoned cyclists, we figured if it were truly blocked there’d be a fence, so we pressed on… until we encountered exactly that: a fence and a soldier with a gun, who promptly asked, “Didn’t you see the signs?”

We apologized, explained we were following a route, and he was thankfully understanding. The dam itself is no longer accessible by bike, so we contented ourselves with crossing the river on the bridge, admiring the top of Glen Canyon Dam from afar and envying the lucky cyclists of days past.

From there, the ride settled into scenic perfection. We pedaled along Glen Canyon Recreation Area, tracing the curves of Wahweap Bay, and soaking in the combination of red rock cliffs and shimmering water. On the return, we added a few extra miles through the Page area, almost reaching Antelope Point Marina.

By the time we rolled back to the hotel, we had covered nearly 40 kilometers in just over two hours. Hot, tired, and exhilarated, we arrived around 10 a.m., already thinking about what adventure to tackle next.

Wahweap Hoodoos: Finding a trail in the wash

When I first read about the ghostly white, otherworldly Wahweap Hoodoos, I knew I had to see them. I even added an extra day to our stay in Page just to explore these unique formations.

We set off early, knowing it was going to be another blazing-hot day. Reaching the trailhead was easy enough — no permits required, decent road access, and a clearly marked start. But reaching the hoodoos themselves? That’s another story.

From the trailhead, the path drops into a broad, dry wash. For the first hundred meters, the trail is obvious — and then it vanishes. The instructions were simple: “just follow the wash.” But with the wash stretching up to 200 meters wide, “follow the wash” leaves plenty of room for interpretation. I became a tracker, scanning for footprints left by earlier hikers, hoping they knew better than I did.

It’s a long walk — about 8 km each way — and while the wash is beautiful, its sandy openness becomes monotonous. With no defined trail and no one else in sight, we felt like explorers crossing some forgotten desert.

Eventually, we spotted our first hoodoo across the wash: a tall white column topped with a brown caprock, like something out of a fantasy movie. But the trail notes I’d read suggested skipping the first two coves and heading straight to the third cove, home to the most striking formations. So we kept walking… and promptly overshot it by nearly a kilometer.

When we finally reached the third cove, there was no mistaking it. These formations looked alien — graceful, elongated white spires crowned with teetering brown stones. They reminded us of the Kaminoans from Star Wars: tall, elegant, otherworldly beings frozen in stone. And we had them entirely to ourselves.

We lingered among the hoodoos, wandering between their slender white columns and improbably sculpted shapes, trying to take it all in. They felt alive somehow, like silent sentinels carved by time, waiting patiently in the desert for anyone willing to seek them out. We had a quiet snack in their shadow, savoring the stillness and the strange sense of being somewhere completely outside the ordinary.

The 8 km back through the wash was hot and unrelenting. It’s impossible to get lost — the wash will eventually deliver you back to the trailhead — but the sameness of the terrain made us despair of ever finding the car. And then suddenly, there it was, baking in the sun, alone in the parking lot.

The Wahweap Hoodoos are an unusual, hidden treasure — a happy accident of rock, water, time, and minerals. For a little while, it felt like this strange, beautiful place was ours — and then the desert reclaimed it.

Sun on the Water: Kayaking Wahweap Bay

After the heat of the hike to the Wahweap Hoodoos, a water day seemed like the perfect way to spend our last day in Page. We rented kayaks from Lake Powell Paddleboards and Kayaks, setting off from Wahweap Marina to explore Wahweap Bay.

There is another canyon paddle in the bay, but it’s not considered as spectacular as Antelope Canyon. We opted for the longer challenge paddle to Lone Rock, a destination that promised a mix of exploration and serenity. For us, it was a pleasant day on the water — not too strenuous, yet fully engaging.

We reached Lone Rock easily and marveled at its statuesque form rising from the water. Circling the rock, we found a shady spot to rest and swim, savoring the cool water after the desert sun. On the return trip, late morning brought more boats and jet skis, disrupting the stillness of the bay, so we sought refuge in a narrow canyon, taking a quiet swim and enjoying a brief return to calm.

Eager to find the “windows” visible from the bay, we tried a short walk along the shore — but after a hot kilometer of searching, they remained elusive. We quickly returned to the cool embrace of the water and paddled back to the marina.

It was a fun, relaxed day, a perfect counterpoint to the heat and exertion of the desert hikes. Kayaking among towering rocks and quiet waters was a gentle, immersive way to experience the beauty of Page before heading on to our next adventure.

Colors of the Desert: Paria Townsite and the Rainbow Mountains

We left Page, heading toward Bryce Canyon and Highway 12, and I had found the perfect stop along the way: the Paria Rainbow Mountains and Townsite. Painted desert mountains for me, and a movie set for several Westerns for Oren.

As soon as we turned off Highway 89 onto the gravel Movie Road, we were once again alone in the desert. The gravel road was jarring, and we debated whether the drive was worth it — but as we drove out, the answer was absolutely yes.

The best view of the Rainbow Mountains comes while driving down toward the townsite. The first hint of colored strata transforms a scenic drive into a day of wonder. Photos cannot capture the spectacle: white, red, yellow, green, and purple stripes surrounding the valley, each turn revealing another breathtaking vista. We stopped at nearly every turn, trying — and failing — to fully capture the sight.

The road felt long as we neared the townsite. Eventually, we reached a wash crossing we didn’t want to attempt with the car, so we parked and continued on foot. Though only about 1 km from the townsite, it was invisible from the road. We found a faint trail, crossed a stream, and scrambled up the riverbank, wondering how anyone ever moved movie equipment through this rugged terrain.

When we finally reached the townsite, it was both wondrous and melancholic. Remnants of modern construction — concrete, metal, rotted wood — confirmed we had found the right place. A couple of derelict ruins sat beautifully in the landscape, yet it was hard to imagine the town that once was, or the later movie set construction.

We then tried to find the picnic area, almost getting lost, but eventually used GPS to return to the road. A Bureau of Land Management officer was the first car we saw all day, stopping to ask what our plan was.

Walking back to the car, we enjoyed the Rainbow Mountains as we drove up the road, and later looked up the films made here. That evening, we rented The Outlaw Josey Wales to see the landscape brought to life on screen.

Chasing the Last Light: Glowing Rocks in the Afternoon

Afternoons in Page invite a different kind of adventure — shorter excursions, iconic views, and the warm glow of late-day light. After the morning’s explorations, we set out to enjoy some of the area’s more visited but no less beautiful spots.

Our first stop was the Toadstool Hoodoos. An easy walk from the parking area led us to painted, striped cliffs and delicate hoodoos, their forms glowing softly in the afternoon sun. The convenience of the trail, the subtle beauty of these formations made the short stroll completely worth it.

Next, we visited Horseshoe Bend, just as the sun began to lower. The curving river and surrounding cliffs were bathed in golden light, creating a scene so vivid it almost felt unreal. As expected, the site was crowded with fellow visitors, but the sheer scale and drama of the landscape made it easy to lose oneself in the moment.

We also finally drove the Monument Valley scenic route, a long but unforgettable journey. The iconic sandstone buttes glowed brilliantly in the late afternoon, casting long, dramatic shadows. Despite the length of the drive, the view at every turn made it well worth the effort.

And then there was The New Wave. Though we had not been successful in winning the lottery to visit The Wave, this nearby formation offered similar wave-like patterns in the rock. It wasn’t as dramatic, but the endless angles and textures made for countless photographic opportunities, and wandering among the swirls of stone felt like our own private gallery of natural art.

Even in more popular locations, the magic of the light and the desert landscape makes these spots unforgettable. From glowing cliffs to iconic monuments, our afternoons in Page were a perfect balance of exploration and reflection, capping each day with a sense of wonder.

One Week Down, More Wonders Ahead

We’re halfway through our Southwest adventure, and already we’ve explored more incredible rock formations and off-the-beaten-path destinations than I ever imagined.

In just seven days, we’ve navigated the twists and turns of slot canyons, stood at innumerable spectacular overlooks, and waded in rivers and pools of cool canyon water. We’ve touched curvy rock walls, marveled at sculpted hoodoos, and traced the footprints of history — petroglyphs left by ancient Puebloan peoples, and dinosaur tracks preserved in silty stone.

We have hiked, biked, and kayaked, enduring heat and cold, wet and dry, mud and dust. Every day has been a mix of effort, discovery, and wonder.

This trip has already been everything I hoped for, and we’re only through the first week. It’s hard to believe there can be more wonders ahead — yet I know there surely are, waiting for us on Scenic Highway 12.

Practical Tips and Route Maps

The Narrows

Start early — the parking lot near the visitor center fills by 8 a.m.
Even early, expect company — but the crowds increase dramatically as the day goes on.
We hiked in regular hiking shoes with good ankle support; they dried quickly in the desert heat.
Hiking poles, although not necessary, would be helpful for balancing on river rocks.
The Narrows is wet and shaded. Even in the heat of August, you will be cold — dress accordingly.

Wire Pass to Buckskin Gulch

Permit Required → Obtain a day-use pass in advance at recreation.gov.
Water is Non-Negotiable → Bring more than you think you’ll need; there’s zero shade outside the slots.
Vehicle Access → A high-clearance or 4WD vehicle is strongly recommended for the 10-mile gravel road to the trailhead.
Flash Flood Risk → Always check the forecast before you go — slot canyons can be deadly in storms, even miles away.
Footwear → Wear sturdy hiking shoes you’re comfortable soaking and covering in mud. They’ll dry fast in the desert heat.

Kayaking Lake Powell to Antelope Canyon

Kayak Rentals → Lake Powell Paddle at Antelope Point Marina is a convenient option. Sit-on-top kayaks are available; bring your own if you want a traditional sea kayak.
Start Early → Morning is best for calm water, mirrorlike reflections, and minimal boat traffic.
Distance & Timing → ~5 km one way to the landing; allow 1–1.5 hours paddling each way, plus time for exploring the canyon.
Gear → Hiking shoes for canyon exploration; water shoes or sandals for kayaking are fine. Bring a light backpack with water, snacks, and sunscreen.