The American Southwest does not believe in subtle transitions
It had rained overnight, but by 9 AM most of the heavy cloud cover had disappeared. Back in May 2025, we had visited nearby Arches National Park with its iconic Delicate Arch, recognizable to anyone who has ever seen a Utah license plate, so this time it was Canyonlands' turn.
While Arches is famous for individual rock formations, Canyonlands impresses through sheer scale: massive overlooks, endless canyon systems, and fortunately, noticeably fewer crowds.
Just north of Moab, Utah State Route 313 leads into the park. The "Cows on Road" signs along this roughly 20-mile stretch should be taken seriously. While the rain had stopped, the temperature kept dropping with every foot of elevation gain. By the time we crossed into the park, the car's thermometer showed 42 degrees.
One of the most dramatic sights in the park is Shafer Canyon Road, an unpaved 18-mile backcountry route that descends roughly 1,500 feet through a series of steep and improbably tight switchbacks carved directly into the canyon walls. Being someone with a fear of heights, even standing safely at the overlook, the road looked slightly unreasonable.
We hiked the short but rewarding Mesa Arch Trail, an easy 0.6-mile loop leading to a cliff-edge natural stone arch spanning roughly 27 feet (8.3 meters). From the opening beneath the arch, Buck Canyon stretches into the distance with the La Sal Mountains rising beyond it.
This is one of those places where - not everybody, but almost everybody - stops talking for a minute.
At roughly 6,000 feet elevation, Grand View Point marks the southernmost overlook in the 'Island in the Sky' district of Canyonlands National Park. From here, Moab lies about 25 miles to the northeast, though distance becomes difficult to judge in a landscape this vast.
Below, the White Rim Road traces its way across the layered canyon terrain, while far to the south the Colorado River continues toward its confluence with the Green River.
The views are almost impossibly expansive. Photographs can capture the shapes, colors, and textures of Canyonlands, but they struggle to convey the true scale of the landscape. Standing there in person, the canyons seem less like scenery and more like exposed geology.
We returned to Moab in the afternoon and made a quick stop at City Market to pick up a few items for an improvised motel-room dinner. Among the supplies was a Colorado IPA from Boulder's Avery Brewing Company, which turned out to be a far better decision than the previous evening's local experiment.
Later, we wandered through town for another look at Moab beyond the national park crowds.
Moab is a surprisingly small town of just over 5,300 residents, yet it serves as the gateway to two national parks that attract roughly three million combined visitors each year. Tourism clearly shapes nearly every aspect of the local economy, with approximately 2,300 commercial hotel rooms and hundreds of short-term rentals supporting the influx of visitors.
Walking through town, however, revealed a more complicated picture. Some areas looked a little worn down and could certainly benefit from some TLC. At times, the atmosphere almost felt as though the assumption was that many visitors would only come once anyway - so why invest too heavily in appearances?
That may sound overly critical, but perhaps it is simply the reality of a town trying to balance explosive tourism growth with the challenges of remaining a small desert community.
After our customary "breakfast of champions" at the Hampton Inn, we headed south and east on Highway 46 toward Paradox, Colorado. Utah was now behind us.
From there, Highway 90 carried us through Naturita (elevation 5,431 feet) a tiny and quiet mountain town with a population of roughly 480 residents.
After leaving Moab, we saw plenty of deer on and near the road, but hardly any cars. Gas stations were rare and far apart, adding just enough uncertainty to make the fuel gauge more interesting than usual.
The road gradually climbed toward 7,200 feet before Highway 145 dropped dramatically just past Norwood, shedding nearly 600 feet of elevation in what felt like no time at all.
We were now following the San Miguel River through Placerville and Sawpit. Steep canyon walls rose on both sides, but unlike the stark desert landscapes of the previous day, everything here felt lush and green, supported by the river below.
Just before Telluride, we turned south onto Highway 145 where the real climb began. Very quickly, we passed 9,000 feet and eventually reached 10,222 feet at the summit of Lizard Head Pass. The change in scenery compared to the day before was stunning. This no longer felt like the desert Southwest. At times, it looked more like Austria or Switzerland - a true alpine landscape.
After a photo stop, we began descending toward Dolores, once again following a river valley, this time alongside the Dolores River. In Rico we were still just below 9,000 feet, but by the time we reached Dolores, the elevation had dropped to under 8,000.
From Dolores through Mancos to Durango takes less than an hour, and fortunately the friendly staff at the Hampton Inn had no problem accommodating an early check-in. Before heading into town for dinner, we had enough time for a relaxing riverside walk along the Animas River through Oxbow Park and Preserve.
Old habits die hard. Third visit to Durango, third dinner at Fired Up Pizzeria, home of authentic Italian wood-fired pizza and New Mexico's excellent La Cumbre Elevated IPA. Lights out came early. The next day's plan included the Animas Mountain Trail, described somewhat ominously as requiring "a great deal of endurance and effort"
It's not often that you can simply walk from your hotel to the trailhead, but in Durango that was exactly the case. The trailhead for the Animas Mountain Trail was less than a mile from our motel.
I thought we were getting an early start, but I was quickly proven wrong. Before 9 AM, we encountered a large group of sixth graders already heading back downhill while we were just beginning our ascent.
The Animas Mountain Trail wastes little time. It starts climbing almost immediately and, while never exceptionally steep, it is relentlessly uphill. Beginning at roughly 6,600 feet, we steadily gained elevation until reaching nearly 8,000 feet before looping around the western side of Animas City Mountain.
It is not an easy hike, but it is an incredibly rewarding one. Throughout the climb, the views into the Animas River Valley become increasingly spectacular.
What surprised us most was how uncrowded the trail felt. Coming from Sedona, where trailheads can sometimes resemble a tourism armageddon, we expected far more people.
Even more surprising were the locals.
The hikers we met along the way were welcoming, chatty, and genuinely interested in where we were from and which route we had taken. Directions, recommendations, and friendly conversations seemed to come naturally. Perhaps that is what communities that have not yet been completely overrun by mass tourism are like - simply friendly and happy to share their backyard with visitors.
The Animas Mountain Trail was tough, but I hope the photographs do at least some justice to the beauty we experienced that morning.
Back at the motel, we were a little worn out, though not enough to skip further exploration. The afternoon included a drive along Rim Drive, Fort Lewis College, and a stop at the Lions Den overlook.
Durango has a population of nearly 20,000 residents and a median age of around 37 years. Roughly 14% of residents are under 18, while about 17% are 65 or older. The median household income is approximately $78,600, and more than 60% of residents aged 25 and older hold a bachelor's degree or higher.
Durango attracts roughly 1.3 million visitors annually and was ranked Colorado's top tourist destination for a second consecutive year in 2023. Unlike some tourist destinations, however, Durango still manages to feel like a real town that happens to welcome visitors, rather than a town that exists solely because of them.
Looking back, choosing between Arches and Canyonlands National Parks is impossible. Arches has the iconic Delicate Arch and a collection of rock formations unlike anywhere else. Canyonlands, on the other hand, overwhelms visitors with its immense scale and relative solitude.
If there was one stretch of road that exceeded expectations, it was Highway 145 between Placerville and Dolores. After spending a day staring deep into the vast canyon country around Moab, emerging into Colorado's alpine landscapes felt almost surreal. The contrast between the two regions was far greater than we had anticipated.
Durango - Reservoir Hill, overlooking the Animas River Valley
And then there was Durango.
Unlike Moab or even Sedona, Durango still feels like a normal town that happens to have extraordinary outdoor recreation nearby. Hiking trails begin within walking distance of downtown. Locals are quick to offer directions, recommendations, or simply a friendly conversation. Despite attracting more than a million visitors each year, Durango somehow manages to retain a sense of authenticity.
The Four Corners region is often associated with red rocks, deserts, and iconic national parks. This trip was a reminder that it is much more than that. Over the course of a few days, we traveled through sandstone canyons, high desert, alpine forests, mountain passes, river valleys, and small towns that each felt entirely different from the last.
The American Southwest does not believe in subtle transitions, it celebrates the bold and the dramatic and that may be exactly what makes it such a remarkable place to explore.
Portrait, couples & lifestyle photography among Sedona's red rocks.