At the start of the trail to Spooky Slot Canyon, a popular spot in southern Utah’s Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, there’s a warning sign posted between two narrow steel beams. It reads: “If you have trouble fitting your body between these posts, DO NOT PROCEED THROUGH SPOOKY GULCH. You may become STUCK and need rescue.” The 12-year-old in our group squeezed through face-first, but the rest of us had to shimmy sideways. Later that afternoon, deep inside Spooky, I bruised my shoulder trying to get through its tight twists and turns.

Decades ago, a cousin told me, “God was on drugs when he made Utah,” and I’ve wanted to go there ever since. I’m a longtime New Yorker, but the great national parks of the American West have always drawn me in. I’ve explored Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and others, but Utah had always slipped away. Finally, to celebrate a big birthday, I booked a family base-camp trip with a hiking tour company.

Think of base-camping as backpacking for beginners: since you hike in and out of just one camp, you only need to carry water and snacks for the day—not your sleeping bag, mattress pad, tent, or other overnight gear. Still, we had to do some training before the trip: as many 10,000-step days as we could manage (I walked the two miles from our East Village apartment to work), plus a good week of drinking extra water to stay hydrated.

I’m not sure about the whole divine thing, but once we got to Utah, I found myself agreeing with my cousin’s old impression. The southern part of the state, especially, feels like a magical place—a natural amusement park of mesas, arches, and hoodoos (columns of weathered rock) shaped by millions of years of tectonic uplift and erosion. Five national parks line Utah’s southern border: Zion, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, Canyonlands, and Arches. Grand Staircase-Escalante is a roughly two-million-acre area squeezed between Bryce and Capitol Reef, named for its huge sequence of sedimentary rock layers, with one cliff and plateau after another.

Besides its slot canyons—deep, narrow gorges carved by millions of years of water erosion—the area is known for many Native American cultural sites and pictographs, dinosaur fossils (our guide showed us a few only after we promised to keep the location secret), the stunning 126-foot Lower Calf Creek Falls, a petrified forest, and the Box-Death Hollow Wilderness. That place got its name, they say, because mules on an old mail route used to fall into its steep canyons. And that’s just what’s on the ground. As one of the darkest spots in the lower 48 states, Grand Staircase-Escalante is also a paradise for stargazers. Much of it is rated Bortle Class 1, meaning on clear nights the Milky Way is bright enough to cast noticeable shadows and even looks three-dimensional. (In July and August, you can watch the Perseids streak across the sky like fireflies.)

“National parks are the best idea we ever had,” said the late novelist and environmentalist Wallace Stegner. “Absolutely American, absolutely democratic, they reflect us at our best rather than our worst.” As a national monument established only in 1996, Grand Staircase-Escalante has fewer protections than its neighboring national parks, even though at least a dozen tribal nations have deep ties to the area. In 2017, President Trump cut its size in half (a move challenged by the Biden administration, though it’s still tangled up in legal disputes). Earlier this year, Utah Republicans introduced a joint resolution in Congress that could reopen the land to coal mining and oil and gas drilling.

The threat, of course, isn’t just local or regional—it’sAutumn Gillard of the Grand Staircase-Escalante Inter-Tribal Coalition says this is a concern nationwide. “The biggest worry for affiliated tribes, as well as citizens and public land supporters, is: If this resolution passes, will it happen to other national monuments across the country? Could it set off a domino effect?”

Earlier budget cuts have already caused staff shortages and maintenance backlogs in national parks across the country. Now, the proposed federal budget for 2027 aims to cut nearly $1 billion more, putting park safety at risk and threatening local economies that depend on them. With the busy summer season starting, Gillard’s best advice is to contact state representatives—just as many people on both sides of the political aisle did recently to stop a proposed border wall through Texas’s Big Bend National Park.

Before I left Utah, I signed a national monuments petition organized by the Grand Canyon Trust. I’ll also vote with my wallet—when I return later this summer to see the Perseid meteor shower, I’ll be sleeping on a five-star mattress in one of Clear Sky Resorts’ climate-controlled panoramic glass sky domes near Bryce Canyon. Each stay includes a donation to a nonprofit that protects Grand Staircase-Escalante.

Mary Hunter Austin, an early feminist and one of the first nature writers of the American Southwest, once wrote that “none other than this long brown land lays such a hold on the affections.” I’m already counting the days until I can trade the concrete canyons of New York for the sandstone canyons of Utah again.

Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about the article Go West A Vogue editors love for national parks shifts into high gear in Utah

BeginnerLevel Questions

1 What is this article about
Its about a Vogue editor who loves national parks and takes a road trip through Utah She trades her usual glamorous fashion world for hiking boots and explores the states stunning red rock landscapes

2 Which national parks does the article visit in Utah
The trip likely focuses on Utahs Mighty 5 Zion Bryce Canyon Capitol Reef Arches and Canyonlands The article highlights how these parks look and feel different from each other

3 Why is a Vogue editor writing about national parks
The editor has a deep personal passion for the outdoors The article blends her fashion perspective with a love for nature showing that adventure and style can go hand in hand

4 Is this just a travel guide or is there a fashion angle
Its both While it describes the parks and road trip logistics it also talks about what to wear how to pack and the mindset of exploring rugged terrain without losing your sense of style

5 What does shifts into high gear mean in the title
It means the editors enthusiasm for national parks really intensifies when she gets to Utah The dramatic scenery makes her love for the outdoors go from casual to fullthrottle excitement

IntermediateLevel Questions

6 Does the article recommend a specific route or itinerary
Yes it typically suggests a classic Utah road trip loop A common route is starting in Las Vegas or Salt Lake City then hitting Zion Bryce and working your way up to Moab for Arches and Canyonlands

7 What are the main problems or challenges the editor faces
The biggest challenge is balancing a fashionforward wardrobe with the practical needs of hiking She also deals with crowded parks and the physical demands of hiking at high altitudes

8 How does the editor handle glamping vs camping
She leans toward comfortable accommodation rather than roughing it in a tent The article focuses on enjoying the parks without sacrificing a good shower or a nice meal