The Grand Canyon vs. the Selfie
A different perspective on how we experience iconic landscapes
By Robert Searns
“Distinguished by the majesty of their natural features, the pristine state of their ecosystems …and…the significance of their history…they…represent the best of natural America” — The National Parks, Mel White
“…we don’t want to be the Disneyland on the edge of the Grand Canyon. That’s not how we want our stories told…This is where we pray and…where we place our offerings…every tribe that holds the Canyon as a sacred space. Why can you not be mindful of that and heed that?…” — Renee Yellowhorse Navajo Activist (from A Walk in The Park, Kevin Fedarko)
It was an oppressively hot day in Denver during the June 2024 heat wave. Heading out for my daily walk, the sun felt like a weight pressing down on my shoulders though it was only 10 AM. In my distress, I pictured myself strolling somewhere else, up in the hills, in a cooler place, maybe along the edges of a lake. Immersing in that image — the breezes off the water, the shade of the pines, the snow-covered peaks — seemed to lower my body temperature. The uncomfortable lightheadedness seemed to pass, but only for a moment. Returning to the house I said to my wife, “we have to get away!” “How about Rocky Mountain National Park?” she suggested. Since the park is only two hours away (well within the range of our Chevy Bolt EV), I thought, “yep, that’s the place to escape to!” I knew there were some great walking paths around several scenic lakes there, so we loaded our day packs and headed out. Just jump in the car, get out of the city, cool off and enjoy the greenery. Right? Maybe not.
It was midweek, so I didn’t anticipate the long line of cars, pickup trucks, and RV’s, engines idling, at the park gate. I didn’t anticipate the guy in the vehicle behind me honking and screaming expletives as I paused briefly to ask a ranger for a park map. And not having the sense to check in first online (I’m not much of the do-everything-via-the-Internet type), I didn’t know that, if you didn’t have a timed entry reservation, access to the lake trails was closed.
We had headed to the park with great expectations. Sadly, though, in that revealing moment at the gate, much of the advertised sense of escape, solace and awe evaporated. Let it be known we did end up strolling around a picturesque small lake in the park, but outside the park gates. We fully enjoyed that — at least until upon exiting, when we saw a small sign stating, “timed entry reservation required.” Luckily, we had already unknowingly committed our infraction, so we did get in our walk, albeit illegally.
A century ago, railroads provided the major routes of public access to places like Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. The railroads were instrumental in building the elegant hotels and lodges that still grace these places, like the historic El Tovar at the Grand Canyon. No doubt it was a grand adventure riding on a train anticipating your arrival at one of the awesome spots the railroad posters artfully depicted. But, by the 1920’s, the automobile took over. And during that decade, arrival by automobile increased seven-fold over rail with over a million visitors arriving at places like Yosemite and the other prized destinations.
A century later, the National Park Service now reports over 325 million annual visitors. To say this has an impact is an understatement. It has drastically affected the quality of the visitor experience. Now arriving at a national park overlook is far different. That the solitude and awe so many seek is vanishing. Compounding this, travel to these places has created a massive carbon impact as 325 million souls make their way by auto and air. Getting to Yellowstone alone generates over 2.3 billion pounds of carbon emissions annually. Picture each visitor dumping a wheelbarrow full of coal at the park gates. Now some, concerned about their carbon footprints, are reconsidering both flying and driving to reach these places. And, along with the diminished experience, consider the impact these millions of visitors have on the delicate ecological environments of these treasured places and on park infrastructure and facilities.
Perhaps the words “nature through a screen” an article in The Guardian best sums up this transformation. The “screen” might be the windscreen of your automobile circling overcrowded parking lots to grab a spot at an overlook or, it could mean a view of scenery through a sea of hundreds of cell phone screens as people cluster at an overlook. As a park manager at Glen Canyon National Recreation Area put it, “People don’t come here for solitude. They are looking for the iconic photo.”
This present-day scenario grows partly out of the devolving character of travel to treasured places as industrialized tourism takes over. One could argue that this programmed mode offers affordability and convenience, especially given people’s limited available travel time — and, for many, short attention spans — and profitability. But at what cost?
In the face of these challenges, park managers have initiated programs like shuttles that take you to view spots and the timed entry reservation system. This has helped somewhat but there are drawbacks. And some parks with shuttles, like Yosemite, are still way over capacity with motorists still sometimes experiencing two to three-hour waits at the park gates. While the reservation system seems to be helping the crowding issue, it strikes me that having to book ahead, and hope you get a slot, takes a pretty big chunk out of the spontaneity of the experience — though increasingly there may be no other choices. Or are there?
Perhaps, if we begin to rethink how we access these places and even rethink what actually constitutes a treasured landscape experience, there are options. Can we envision a middle ground between the quick park-and-click-a-selfie and loading up a heavy backpack for a more strenuous multi-day backcountry immersion? What if you just want to go for a casual stroll or pedal excursion through a national park or other iconic destination? Maybe by broadening the range of options, we can spread out the crowds and bring back some of the essence of experiencing “the majesty of natural features” while reducing the carbon footprint of park visitors.
Maybe part of this is finding ways to set aside and showcase iconic places closer to home — so that just about anyone can enjoy a half-day outing to a special outdoors spot, accessible from a trailhead at the end of the bus or transit line or affordably reachable via a ride share (ideally an electric vehicle). In either instance can we create new greener modes of access? What if you could grab a free shuttle to a trailhead from a gateway community outside the park boundaries, or better still, rent a bike there, pedal, or just walk into the park on a pleasant trail knowing there are convenient shuttle stops along the way if your feet give out?
Stefka and Matt Fabbri, friends of ours, explored this option on a June road trip that included Grand Canyon National Park. Bikes strapped to their car, they wanted an immersive experience so their 9-year-old son, Andre, could “really appreciate these special kinds of places.” En route, they stopped in Tusayan, the gateway town to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. They had heard about a unique system — the Grand Canyon Greenway — a 16-plus mile user-friendly walking and biking path system that takes you into the park and then follows the spectacular south rim of the Grand Canyon.
When they arrived at their Tusayan hotel, they noticed a well-groomed pathway just outside the door. Learning that it led to the rim of the Grand Canyon they agreed “we’ve got to ride this!” So, early the next morning — avoiding the midday heat — they set out. Soon they were gradually climbing a 6-mile path winding through the pines. En route, they were greeted by a herd of elk. (While they had initially felt some trepidation about how Andre would do, it turned out the 1-hour ride was almost effortless). Nearing the Rim, they really enjoyed the building sense of anticipation the topography offered. First openings appeared in the trees, and then, as a reward, the canyon exploded into view — a vast expanse of colors saturating the horizon. Reaching the rim, the Tusayan trail joined the rim portion of the Greenway path. Because the path was busy, they parked their bikes and strolled along the rim. They particularly appreciated a wonderful series of interpretive displays that tell the story of the canyon’s geology.
After a well-earned lunch of chili and salads at the historic El Tovar Lodge restaurant, they refilled their water bottles and headed back to Tusayan, the downhill trip back pretty much a “coast.” When I asked if they enjoyed the foot-powered ride to the canyon, they said yes: “in fact so much that we did the ride again the next day!”
First envisioned by architect and trail planner Jeff Olson in 1997, laid out by a team of volunteer experts and built by the Park Service, the route the Fabbris followed offers a different way to experience a national park. It presents visitors an easy way to bike, stroll, or propel a wheelchair out to Mather Point on the east or to the Hermit’s Rest overlook on the west. While the Fabbris brought their own bikes, one can rent a bike in Tusayan or at the Rim or walk from Tusayan to the Rim in about two hours. If need be, a free shuttle bus is available to facilitate travel along the Rim.
Like the Fabbris, I also visited the Grand Canyon Greenway last November. I walked along the Rim trails, bicycled to Hermit’s Rest, and pedaled a round trip to Tusayan. Judging by the throngs of smiling strollers and bicyclists enjoying the pathway, even in late fall, the Greenway is a proven model of sustainable access. A very nice side benefit of the pathway is that it naturally spreads the crowds among multiple scenic overlooks. It also offers convenient access to amenities including water, food, and rest rooms.
It is noteworthy that a dozen other national parks, including Bryce Canyon, Cuyahoga Valley and Grand Teton feature similar non-automobile based modes but the Grand Canyon Greenway stands apart in its elegance as a smooth, well designed, readily accessible walking and biking experience. Hopefully the Grand Canyon model will promote sustainable access systems — not only in more national parks, but also in state parks and other special destinations across North America and worldwide. Key design elements for these systems should include a quality solid, smooth trail tread, easy-to-follow wayfinding, accessibility for people of all abilities and levels of fitness, and convenient access to free shuttle service (with quiet, fume-free electric vehicles) along the entire route system. It would also be good to provide separate treads for bicyclists and walkers to enhance the experience for both groups.
As we envision implementing new, more sustainable modes of access to world-class places like National Parks, let’s also look at providing closer-in alterative destinations. While maybe not as charismatic as Yosemite or Yellowstone, we can find and showcase more localized iconic landscapes and features. In the spirit of the Green Belt movement, we can wrap these kinds of places around cities as a new, closer-in rendition of a “national park.”
The Green Belt concept, popularized over a century ago by British urbanist Ebenezer Howard and others, envisioned surrounding cities with large swaths of rural landscapes including natural open spaces, agricultural lands, parks and “garden towns” — as an alternative to sprawl. London, Toronto, and other metropolises have created Green Belts. (Though, in recent years, the preservation of these spaces has been challenged by economic and political pressures to open these expanses for more housing and development.) Not only would the creation of these places reduce the carbon footprint of travel to more distant destinations, they would also make immersion in nature much more readily accessible to everyone, regardless of means. And, having more quality close-to-home outdoors places like these could, hopefully, help spread out the crowds and lessen the impact on many national parks and other outstanding, popular destinations.
These closer-in spaces could take multiple shapes. Perhaps, where the land is available, they can be large green expanses, or maybe they are “necklaces” of prime green spaces linked together by continuous high-quality pathways. Building continuous loop trails that encircle cities and tie valued landscapes together could establish frameworks that eventually expand into a full-on Green Belts. The connecting trails, once in place, could also strengthen the impetus to preserve vistas. A good example of this is the Appalachian Trail: after its construction, a conservancy was established to acquire scenic easements and preserve views along that 2200-mile route.
Imagine wrapping an Appalachian Trail around a city like Buffalo or Cleveland. Cuyahoga National Park, near Cleveland, forms a significant piece of a potential Green Belt already in place and there are greenway loop plans there that strengthen this vision. In other instances, existing national parks or similar dedicated landscapes close to cities could, likewise, become key anchoring features. Rocky Mountain National Park near Denver, Rouge National Park that abuts Toronto and Red Rocks Canyon National Conservation Area outside Las Vegas have great potential to weave iconic places into larger networks that wrap around cities. The Kenauk Lands project near Ottawa, Canada and Peaks District National Park near Manchester England are other examples. In the case of the 19,000-acre Kenauk Lands, The Nature Conservancy of Canada has been the key player in establishing this expansive reserve. So these kinds of projects don’t always require government funding. Indeed, creating Green Belt components doesn’t always require large taxpayer land acquisition costs or taking all the land out of productive use.
With proper agreements, these wrap-around parks could include large swaths of productive pastures, orchards, or croplands. The key is to preserve a legacy of scenic quality and public access to pathways and overlooks. In an era of climate change, these green expanses could also provide reserves for water storage including wetlands, flood and fire buffers and the large swaths of greenery could help lower regional temperatures and absorb greenhouse gases.
Is this an easy thing to do? Of course not. The barriers, including naysayers and financial challenges, are formidable. But with thoughtful planning and right branding, the case can be made. Maybe start by getting smaller proof-of-concept projects built and then showcase them. If well executed, those projects could become viral.
Note, too, that part of a solution must lie in how we define these places in our minds — how we brand them. What exactly is a special destination experience? Can we not reexamine what constitutes these and what we are actually seeking when we travel to them? Certainly, there are the one-of-a-kind “bucket list” spots like the Grand Canyon and built attractions like the Eiffel Tower or the Acropolis. Of course, we need to preserve, expand, and dedicate more of these heritage places. But we also need to design and program the infrastructure of those places to enable tranquility and contemplative solitude, rather than layouts that favor cars and cluster people together. A system that promotes gently walking — not driving — into a place like the Grand Canyon or the Yosemite Valley can be so much more. While, for some, getting the selfie on the South Rim may be a goal, for many, it’s still about something more profound: getting away from the ordinary; escaping from the noise, the cars, the crowds; getting into nature; experiencing a sense of awe; witnessing curiosities and learning; healing; or a just experiencing a change of venue to spiritually refresh. I would also argue that sauntering along a scenic trail route on the edge of town that strings together forests and farms can offer many of these experiences.
We can also lower the carbon cost of visiting national parks. What if airlines offered frequent flyer miles redeemable for trips to national parks to those who put solar panels on their roofs or switch to an electric car? Maybe a program like this could be funded in part by paying a small sustainability surcharge on plane tickets. And what if you didn’t need a reservation and didn’t have to pay an entry fee if you agreed to ditch your car outside the entry gate and walk or bike into the park? A big challenge? Of course, but we need to start exploring alternatives because the current model is not sustainable. Given the realities of climate change, and the overuse of our parks, it’s time to expand our thinking.
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Robert Searns is the author of Beyond Greenways: The Next Step for City Trials and Walking Routes (Island Press, 2023), as well as having served as editor of the Trails and Beyond online magazine of The World Trails Network. Searns has worked as an urban trail and greenways planner and developer for four decades. He was project director of Denver’s Platte River and Mary Carter Greenways — both national-award-wining projects. He helped plan the Grand Canyon National Park Greenway, played a key role on the Memphis Wolf River Greenway, and authored the Commerce City, CO, Walk, Bike, Fit Master Plan.
