For those about to rock
When it comes to capturing the best photos possible from your vacation — the kinds that get oohs and aahs when you post them on social — a general rule of thumb is that your tour guide knows best.
So when Richard Simpson, of Simpson’s Trailhandler Tours, offers to take my photo during a stop on our sunset tour of Monument Valley, I hand over my phone without question. When he hands it back, I am surprised to see a blackand-white photo. “It’s how people first saw this place,” he explains.
Monument Valley can accurately be described as being in the middle of nowhere. It’s about a five-hour drive from Phoenix, Ariz., or six and a half hours from Las Vegas, Nev. It is a vast expanse of vibrant red sand and striking sandstone formations that reach up to the sky, some as high as 1,000 feet.
There are countless mesas and buttes, the most famous of which are said to resemble mittens (they are actually called the East and West Mitten Buttes). When you imagine what Mars looks like, a place like this might come to mind. And in fact, there’s a stretch of mesas on that planet that has been dubbed the Martian Monument Valley.
The area first gained popularity for non-Navajo people when it became the setting for Western films in the 1930s, most notably John Ford’s “Stagecoach,” a black-andwhite film that came out in 1939. It’s this introduction that Richard Simpson was talking about.
But it’s also been made famous to other generations thanks to Looney Tunes’ Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote, and the film “Forrest Gump.” Forrest, after running for three years, two months, 14 days and 16 hours, ends his run on Highway 163, the main road through this stretch of southern Utah, with Monument Valley as the backdrop.
There’s something else that sets this area apart: Monument Valley is a Navajo Tribal Park, regulated, operated and cared for by that community. Tsé Bii’ Ndzisgaii (“Valley of the Rocks”), as it’s also called by the Navajo, sits on the ArizonaUtah state border, at the north of Navajo Nation, which encompasses essentially private land spanning 71,000 square kilometres across three states (New Mexico is the third). There is a 27-kilometre loop of gravel road that tourists can navigate on their own, but any other exploring of the almost 92,000-acre Monument Valley must be done with a Navajo guide. This is how I ended up riding in Richard’s opensided all-terrain jeep.
Simpson’s Trailhandler Tours was started in 1992 by Richard’s brother Harold. The Simpsons grew up within the borders of the tribal park, and Harold explains that, for the Navajo, when it comes to having visitors on their territory, there is no separation between business, community and family. “This is our motherland. It’s our home, and these are our stories to share,” he says.
During our sunset tour, Harold guides and Richard drives as we visit some of the park’s most iconic rock formations: the aforementioned mittens (“They welcome you in and wave goodbye when you leave,” Harold says), Elephant Butte and Three Sisters, among them. We also see a hogan, the traditional multi-generational dwelling for Navajo people, and the Sun’s Eye rock formation, the site of some petroglyphs thought to date back to 1300 BCE.
Before we return to our drop-off point, as the sun lights up the rocks in hues from brick to mahogany to sweet potato, the Simpsons take us to a towering but shallow cave with a small opening at the top — just the sort of shape that fosters acoustic brilliance. As I and the others in our small group lie against the cave’s wall, Harold drums and sings while Richard plays a pan flute. There is no other sound — no cars, no other tourists, no distractions at all.
That absence of distractions is something I noticed only after I left Monument Valley. Perhaps it was the time of year, mid-week in April, but there were few other tourists in the area, and I spotted only four other tour groups in the park while we were out with the Simpsons.
There are no roadside ads, no billboards or signage, to distract from the awe-inspiring views. There also isn’t any alcohol on any menu at the restaurants in the handful of tiny towns in the area — Utah’s Oljato, Mexican Hat and Bluff being the main spots to find a meal.
While Monument Valley may get the most attention from visitors, there is plenty to explore in the region. I based myself at Goulding’s Lodge in Oljato, one of the first accommodations in the area (it’s celebrating its 100th anniversary next year). Located close to Highway 163, it’s the closest accommodation to the Valley, and an ideal base for exploring more of Utah’s canyon country.
Much of it can be done on your own. During my time in the area, I visited Goosenecks State Park, so named because of how the San Juan River curves its way around the base of a deep canyon, as well as Natural Bridges National Monument, a small park that offers vantage points of the bridgelike rock formations from up high, and “strenuous” hikes down to the canyon floor (I stuck with the lofty view).
I also spent time exploring Mule Canyon on a hike to the famous landmark House on Fire, a set of granaries built into the rock that are remarkably well preserved. Louis Williams is my guide here, and he launched his tour company, Ancient Wayves River and Hiking Adventures, in 2020. It’s the first and only Navajo-owned company permitted to provide tours in the Bears Ears National Monument, home to Mule Canyon. While this park is publicly accessible — I saw markedly more visitors here than during my tour of Monument Valley — I’m happy to explore in the company of Williams, who makes our walk to House on Fire more interesting than just glimpsing the destination on my own.
As we navigate the canyon, he explains the importance of cryptobiotic soil, which contains bacteria that protects the earth, retains water and promotes plant matter growth in dry climates. But an errant footstep off the path and onto that soil can destroy this bacteriarich crust, with regrowth taking up to seven years just to begin and 200 years to fully recover.
Williams teaches me the local guidance on how to navigate the terrain (“Don’t bust the crust!”) and shares stories of growing up with his grandmother, who taught him about gathering from the land. “You have to ask the plant first before you gather,” he says.
And he talks about the importance of representing his community with visitors. “It’s the credibility of an Indigenous guide in Indigenous lands talking about Indigenous culture,” he says. “We have information that Google has no idea about. Google can take people places. We help them experience this place safely and with respect.”
While a self-guided exploration of Utah’s canyon country is possible, it is limiting, both in the actual access to the land and its historical and cultural context. Google did lead me to every sight in this destination, but it was the Navajo guides who let me in.