The only thing better than waking up in a mountain town is overnighting within minutes of the destination’s best trails, waterways, and ski runs—and I learned this firsthand on a June 2024 Alaskan getaway. I’d spent several weeks hopping between national parks, including bear watching in Lake Clark and . I wasn’t ready for the adventure to end, and a stay at the new Chugach State Park-adjacent instead of downtown Anchorage, meant it didn’t have to.

I spent the 48 hours before my homebound flight strolling the property’s trails, hiking the Chugach-view loop around nearby Eklutna Lake, and crossing off an exciting wildlife spotting: the trip’s first black bear.

That’s just the start of this list’s adventure-centered digs. I scoured Airbnb for other incredible stays in the nation’s beloved mountain towns, from a waterfront abode in my lucky lower 48 aurora-hunting perch—Michigan’s Upper Peninsula—to a postcard-worthy A-frame in my favorite fall hiking spot, the Adirondacks. Here are 12 can’t-miss mountain-town Airbnb homes to add to your bucket list.

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Watch Stars Shimmer Above the Chisos in Terlingua, Texas

From this dramatic Stardust Big Bend Luxury A-frame, you’ll be within minutes of Terlingua’s old-western ghost town, not to mention the Maverick entrance to Big Bend National Park. But the cabin’s dramatic Chihuahuan desert surroundings, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook it, make it hard to leave the property. Watch from bed as the rising sun paints the Chisos peaks hues of pink and peach, or relax on the spacious deck or hammock as the desert transitions from golden hour to star-speckled night—a signature of the region’s enormous Greater Big Bend International Dark Sky Reserve. Your hangout is one of 11 cabins on the property, and it feels like a home away from home with a full kitchen, one bedroom, two beds, and one bathroom, for up to four guests. Meet your neighbors in the community game room, but note, pets are not allowed.

Squeeze in Ample şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Within One Hour of Anchorage Airport, Alaska

This handicap-accessible cabin is part of BlueWater Basecamp, a new collection of eight Scandinavian-style abodes set near Alaska’s Chugach State Park and roughly one hour from the Anchorage International Airport. With this proximity, you can spend your final days in Alaska hiking, biking, and wildlife watching instead of bopping between Anchorage gift shops. Teal-tinged Eklutna Lake, for example, is mere minutes from the property, with guided paddle trips and a 12-mile dirt loop around the water for biking and hiking. Wildlife such as moose and black bears are known to inhabit the area, and they may even stop by BlueWater BaseCamp for a porch safari. The pet-friendly property has three styles of abodes, including the handicap-accessible deluxe mountain cabin with room for up to six guests with two bedrooms, three beds, and one bathroom, as well as a full kitchen—a necessity given that the nearest main towns, Palmer and Eagle River, are 30 minutes away.Ěý

Stay in a Taos Earthship Within Minutes of Stunning, Uncrowded Trails in New Mexico

This eye-popping Taos Mesa Studio Earthship is more than a place to rest your head. It’s a lesson in sustainable housing, with an off-grid design built to catch rainwater and generate its own electricity—all while staying 72 degrees throughout the year, even on chilly desert nights. The Earthship lies 10 minutes from the , an eight-mile out-and-back route that overlooks the Rio Grande del Norte National Monument’s plains and peaks, with parallel views of the 800-feet-deep Taos gorge. Your one-bedroom, one-bathroom Earthship can welcome up to four guests thanks to a cozy, convertible daybed. Pets are welcome with a $50 fee, and the home comes with a full kitchen.

Snooze in a Snow Globe After Hitting the Breckenridge, Colorado Slopes

Enjoy endless fresh air among the Pike National Forest pines at The Deck at Quandary Peak, which allows for up to three guests. This backcountry Breckenridge home, which becomes its own glorified snow globe each winter, overlooks the Tenmile range’s highest peak, Mount Quandary. You’ll have quick access to the Breck ski lift and town center within 15 minutes. The cabin, with its hygge-inspired aesthetic, includes one bedroom with two beds, one bathroom, and a full kitchen. Relax among the conifers on the fairy-light-adorned deck, or nap by the cozy indoor fireplace after a long day on the slopes. You’ll need a 4WD vehicle to reach the home, and tire chains are required for winter visit. Pets are not allowed.

Overnight Beside a New York Adirondacks Lake—Kayaks Included

New York’s Adirondack Park is a four-season getaway, and few overnights immerse you in the changing landscape like this picturesque Lakefront A-frame Cabin on Stoner Lakes. Enjoy the mirror-still water from the fire ring, or hop aboard the kayaks that come with the property for a scenic paddle. The mountain town of Caroga Lake, set in the Adirondack foothills, is a 15-minute drive south. Head there for , fishing, or snowmobiling. Or, travel 10 minutes north of your cabin to tackle the steep 3.5-mile out-and-back up Good Luck Mountain. Royal Mountain Ski Area’s 13 trails are a short 20 minutes south of you, too. Up to six guests (and pets) can enjoy this two-bedroom, three-bed, and one-bath getaway. (Note: this is a three-night minimum stay.)

Catch Shut-Eye in a Treehouse Near Park City, Utah’s Best Runs

Park City’s Dreamy Living Cabin puts the “tree” in treehouse, with a 200-year-old fir jutting up through its airy wood-paneled interior. The getaway, which glows with natural light from the 270-degree glass windows, sits at 8,000 feet elevation. It’s just north of the protected woodlands, where hiking trails give travelers the chance to spot moose, porcupines, and eagles. Park City downtown and its many ski hangouts, such as , lie roughly 30 minutes south of your stay. The property is also less than one hour from the Salt Lake City Airport. It’s a great getaway for two, with one bedroom, one bathroom, a full kitchen, and a large deck that overlooks the soaring Uintas. Pets are not allowed. (Note: this is a two-night minimum stay.)

Doze Beneath the Tetons in Jackson, Wyoming’s Dreamy Geodesic Domes

A sprinkling of 11 heated geodesic dwellings, known as Tammah Jackson Hole Domes, plunge guests into Wyoming’s jaw-dropping wilderness, with views of the jagged Tetons best enjoyed from your cozy king-sized bed. Overnights at this Airbnb include free breakfast, in-dome telescopes, and ensuite bathrooms. The property also has a shared sauna and firepit—the perfect way to share stories after a in Grand Teton National Park; its Granite Canyon entrance is five minutes north by car. For skiing and snowboarding, is also a five-minute drive away. Each 540-square-foot dome fits two guests maximum; pets are welcome.

Overnight in a Grain Silo in Kalispell, Montana

Add some farm feels to your mountain-town escape by sleeping in a converted grain silo with views of Montana’s peak-laden Flathead Valley. These metal accommodations have it all: a kitchenette, loft bedroom, two beds, and one bathroom, not to mention an outdoor fire pit for watching the Rocky Mountain landscape change from blue-sky day to gold-tinged dusk. Don’t head to sleep early on the star-splashed night skies, either. Start the day with a stroll along the 80-acre farm’s walking trails, or, when the powder hits, try snowshoeing or cross-country skiing the farm routes. Glacier National Park is a 30-minute drive north, while 3,000 skiable acres are around 50 minutes northwest. Downtown Kalispell’s delicious breweries are a 10-minute drive from your silo. Pets are not allowed.

Crash Beside the Tennessee River in This Cozy Chattanooga Cabin with a Watchtower

Soak up the Tennessee River Gorge’s grandeur from a pet-friendly waterfront cabin in the heart of this dramatic river canyon. The two-bedroom, five-bed, and one-bathroom Chattanooga-adjacent house can welcome up to eight guests with plenty of water adventures onsite, from angling on the Tennessee riverbank to paddling with the property’s rentable kayaks. Climb the cabin’s scenic watchtower to scout for wildlife like ospreys, bald eagles, and deer, or catch more flora and fauna from the nearby hiking jaunts, including six-mile out-and-back Snoopers Rock Trail, roughly a 30-minute drive away. Snag a view of the 100-foot-tall Julia Falls roughly 20 minutes to the east; it’s among the most scenic stops on the over 300-mile .

Bunk-Up Near Trailheads and Slopes in Picturesque Stowe, Vermont

Sleep within steps of your hiking path at the Cady Hill Trail House, a one-bedroom, one-bathroom guesthouse in the quintessential New England town of Stowe, Vermont. The two-guest home, complete with a full kitchen, is surrounded by the charming , home to over 11 miles of trails—and a profusion of color when the leaves change each fall. Stowe’s many breweries, cafes, and restaurants are just five minutes away; the 116 ski trails at are within 10 minutes driving, too. Guest have ample outdoor space to store gear like bikes, skis, and snowshoes. In addition to ambles, the Cady Hill trail network welcomes skiers, snowshoers, and mountain bikers depending on the season. Pets are not allowed. (Note: this is a two-night minimum stay.)

Sleep in a South Dakota Firetower Near Mount Rushmore

Play fire lookout for a night—or week—from this firetower-inspired getaway within minutes of South Dakota’s Custer State Park, where bison now abound. An array of park trails are within a 25-minute drive of your tower, including , which weaves by dramatic van-sized boulders for three miles, or the take the route up , South Dakota’s highest point. Cross Mount Rushmore off your bucket list while you’re here; it’s 30 minutes northeast by car. This one-bedroom, 1.5-bath tower, built for two guests, comes with a full kitchen, wrap-around deck, and a common area with a firepit and yard games. Pets are not allowed.

Catch Zzzs After Watching for Northern Lights Near Michigan’s Porcupine Mountains

One of Michigan’s best-kept secrets, the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park (better known as the Porkies), lies within 15 minutes of this Lake Superior Beach House—a two-bedroom and two-bath abode with a full kitchen and sweeping turquoise water views. The Porkies offer all sorts of Great Lakes adventures: ascending the world’s tallest artificial ski jump, ; fishing or taking a dip in the photogenic Lake of the Clouds; or schlepping up the steep half-mile route to the , which offers views as far as Isle Royale National Park on a clear day. Back at the cabin, relax by the indoor fireplace or hang outside after dusk to watch for one of the Upper Peninsula’s greatest treats: the aurora borealis. Select pets are allowed upon request. (Note: this is a four-night minimum stay.)

Want more of şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř’s travel stories? .

When she’s not staying in cool places around the world, adventure and astrotourism writer Stephanie Vermillion chases comets and northern lights, and hunts the best stargazing in dark sky zones. Her upcoming book will be out December 3.

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In January of 2020, I packed my entire life into an old Ford Transit minivan, kissed my partner goodbye, and set off to visit every national park in the United States. Along the way, I penned a series of dispatches for şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř and about all my wild experiences.

Like the time an enormous black bear approached my picnic table in Kings Canyon, California; panicked, I waved my arms overhead like a lunatic and tap-danced on the wooden surface until it finally turned and sauntered into the woods. Or the time I came down with scarlet fever in the Alaskan bush and lolled around in my tent with a high fever for two days, until my bush plane’s return. Or the four days I spent trapped in a Tacoma motel room, waiting out the smoke of the worst wildfire season in U.S. history, before visiting North Cascades.

My year exploring the parks was never boring. In fact, it’s been the biggest adventure of my life.

America’s national parks have some of the most jaw-dropping scenery on the planet. In addition to the iconic topography—hoodoos and canyons in the Southwest, massive trees in California, and geysers that shoot water up hundreds of feet—I’ve also been awed by the green-black waters of Congaree; the magnificence of Denali, North America’s highest peak; and fall foliage in Acadia.

But my absolute favorite park? I get that question a lot, and the answer often surprises people.

My Favorite National Park Is Big Bend, in Texas

I grew up in the suburbs of Houston—in a region I best remember as flat and swampy—and then moved to Los Angeles for college. Because my family wasn’t very outdoorsy, I had no idea that an extraordinary expanse of conifer-topped peaks and narrow river canyons was a day’s drive away. In L.A., IĚý could easily go for a day hike in the Hollywood Hills or spend the weekend exploring San Gabriel Mountains National Monument. The topography, and its proximity to it, started to change me.

Fast-forward 15 years and picture me rolling into Big Bend National Park, delighted and surprised. The pine-freckled Chisos Mountains towered before me. I spent four days roaming the park, canoeing the Rio Grande, soaking in natural hot springs, and trekking ridgelines that afforded panoramic views of the Chihuahuan Desert.

Although Big Bend happened less than two months into my transition to full-time vanlife, the impression it had on me lasted the duration of my trip. Unlike the most popular parks like Rocky Mountain, Big Bend’s natural attractions were unexpected. It was so off the beaten path. But there were many other reasons I fell in love with this West Texas gem. Here are a handful.

You Feel Like You Have Big Bend National Park to Yourself

Relative to its size—it’s the 15th-largest unit in the Park System—and variety of outdoor activities, Big Bend is one of our least-crowded parks outside of Alaska. In 2023, it welcomed just over 500,000 visitors to its 801,163 acres. Yosemite, in comparison, had 3.9 million visitors exploring just 747,956 acres. While visiting Yosemite Valley can feel like Disneyland, Big Bend felt like a serene desert refuge—which can actually be quite colorful and filled with animals:

Big Bend Is a Haven for Backcountry Campers

Want to hike in and pitch your tent at a dispersed site in the Chisos Mountains? Raft a portion of the Rio Grande to a solitary camping zone? Take your four-wheel-drive vehicle down a dirt lane to a with no one else around? There are even a few rugged off-trail wilderness areas where experienced backpackers can trek in and stay the night. The park makes it easy to for any of these, and they’re inexpensive (around $10 per night).

You Can Stargaze Like a Pro in Big Bend

Big Bend International Dark Sky Reserve is the largest Dark Sky-certified place in the world. Nearby offer observatory access, and the park hosts throughout the year. While I visited at the end of winter, I was still dazzled by the twinkling Milky Way above my campsite one clear night.

The Canyons in Big Bend Are Totally Impressive

I was utterly wowed by the majestic canyons in Big Bend—and that’s saying something, given how many national-park canyons I enjoyed in the Southwest. I can recommend two short, easy hikes that take in some of the park’s canyon highlights:

• : To get to the trailhead, which is located on the western side of the park, drive the length of the view-studded Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive, passing rock formations that resemble mules ears and the lumpy, volcanic Tuff Canyon, and parking at the lot at the end of the road. I spent an evening strolling this 1.4-mile out-and-back trail, which winds along the bottom of 1,500-foot-tall canyon walls (a nesting site for many birds) bordering the Rio Grande.
• : On the eastern side of the park, this impressive 1.3-mile round-trip jaunt takes you near the Boquillas Del Carmen border crossing into Mexico. Go in the morning, as I did, for the best light on the caramel-colored limestone walls.

It’s worth noting that you can explore both of these canyons via boat. I signed up for a guided excursion with Ěý(from $82) and can recommend this local outfitter. It offers a range of options, from half-day to multiday trips.

There’s a Great Hot Springs Site in Big Bend for Post-Trek Soaking

After three days of nonstop park exploration, my muscles were sore, so I was happy to hear about a two-wheel-drive-accessibleĚýhot spring inside Big Bend: Boquillas Hot Springs.

The stone ruins of an early-1900s resort surround this naturally fed soaking pool, tucked against the cool water of the Rio Grande. From the Chisos Basin Visitor Center, head east for 28 miles; the last two miles are down the bumpy, dirt Hot Springs Road, which ends at a parking lot. From there it’s an easy half-mile hike to the springs, where 105-degree pools and great views across the river into Mexico await.

Big Bend’s Gateway Town Is Weird, Wonderful, and Definitely Worth a Stop

Big Bend boasts one of the coolest gateway towns of any national park. From its sincerely sweet (from $249) and curious ghost town to some of the finest smoked meats I’ve ever eaten, found at DB’s Rustic Iron BBQ, and splurge-worthy post-hike massages at Desert Lotus Healing Arts, tiny Terlingua offers loads to do when you’re not exploring the park.

My Runner-Up: Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve, Alaska

With so many wildly different U.S. national parks, it’s nearly impossible to choose just one favorite. Though Gates of the Arctic is exceedingly tough to get to for most travelers, that remoteness allows for incredible magic. Here’s why I loved it.

Gates of the Arctic National Park Is Massive

Boasting nearly 8.5 million acres, Gates of the Arctic is the second-largest national park in the country. That’s really hard to fathom. It’s larger than ten Yosemites or eight Glaciers. Mountains and rivers seem to spill out forever here, and I felt like I had a gigantic playground all to myself.

A Trip to Gates of the Arctic Is a True şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

No roads or trails cut through Gates of the Arctic, so plan on hiking, boating, or flying in by bush plane. This remoteness means that solitude is easy to find and wildlife live in a setting largely removed from human contact, giving travelers a true wilderness experience. I sincerely relished those aspects after having to deal with the bus schedules of Denali.

I signed up for a guided group expedition with , which is based in Anchorage and offers all kinds of epic hiking and rafting trips into the park (from $6,195)

Gates of the Arctic Is an Incredible Place for Wildlife-Watching

Loads of charismatic megafauna, like grizzly bears, caribou, musk oxen, and Dall’s sheep, call Gates of the Arctic home. Many of the area’s 500,000-member Western Arctic caribou herd migrates through the park each fall.

To Say the Gates of the Arctic Scenery Is Spectacular Is an Understatement

The Arrigetch Peaks are, hands down, one of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever laid eyes on. A bush plane dropped my guide and I off near the Arrigetch Valley, on the banks of the Alatna River, and we set off on a 12-mile off-trail hike to these jagged pinnacles, which are part of the central Brooks Range. We slept in tents and spent days exploring the granite slopes and aquamarine alpine lakes in the area. While this experience might not be for everyone, anyone willing to put in the miles will experience sublime natural beauty.

Frequent şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř contributor Emily Pennington wrote a book about her experience of visiting all 63 national parks: , published in 2023. Next year she plans on returning to Gates of the Arctic to raft the Noatak River.

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Ready to take your outdoor adventure up a notch or three? in Texas is the place. The combination of desert, mountains, and river, plus historic ghost towns and colorful West Texas culture, makes this region an unmatched haven for outdoor enthusiasts of all kinds. şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř sent adventurer and his buddy Nick to see what Big Bend Country is all about and explore the best adventures the region has to offer. From paddling rivers to relaxing in a natural hot spring to chasing never-ending vistas, here’s what they discovered.

Find Your Texas State of Mind

Hit the Trails

The best hiking advice for Big Bend Country? Don’t limit yourself to Big Bend National Park. Explore more of the region’s captivating landscapes and you’ll discover under-the-radar wilderness access, like in . This 300,000-acre reserve abuts the northwestern side of the national park, so you can experience similar topography, with an added dose of solitude. Scramble over rugged terrain and between narrow rock walls on the 1.4-mile out-and-back Closed Canyon Trail. Or opt for a scenic riverside loop on the 1.2-mile Big Bend Hoodoo Trail.

“Even as a Texas native, I got to see another side of my home state on this trip,” says Rashad-Franklin. “Big Bend Country opened my eyes to how beautiful Texas is.”

Of course—Big Bend National Park also has . See the jagged peaks of the Chisos Basin or take in views of Casa Grande and Juniper Canyon. If you like hiking, you’ll love Big Bend Country.

Paddle River Canyons

The Rio Grande, which marks the border between Texas and Mexico, is a core feature of the Big Bend Country landscape. With 196 miles of free-flowing Wild and Scenic River, the Rio Grande makes for a relaxing multi-day paddling trip. Hop into a canoe or kayak and follow the river as it winds through limestone canyons with walls up to 1,500 feet high.

For a beginner-friendly journey, try the . Starting from the Rio Grande Village put-in, this stretch covers 33 river miles with up to Class II rapids. Most paddlers complete the trip in two to four days, depending on flows and headwinds. If you only have time for a day trip, paddle upstream from the Santa Elena Trailhead into the canyon, then float back. When you need to cool off, eddy out and take a dip in a swimming hole along the river or in the quiet waters of Terlingua Creek, which flows into the Rio Grande near the same trailhead. New to paddling? Opt for a .

“The Big Bend region is the most diverse area I’ve ever encountered,” says Tara Shackleford, local guide and owner of Hidden Dagger şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍřs. “The Rio Grande comes together with the mountains and the desert to create such a unique landscape with so much life.”

Dive into the Curious Culture

Desert landscapes often hold an air of mystery, and . Head to , where you can immerse yourself in the region’s rich history. Once a thriving mining town, Terlingua is frozen in time—in a good way. Take a self-guided tour of the ghost town and its remaining buildings. At the town’s historic cemetery, view weathered tombstones and learn about the area’s early settlers.

“There’s something special about this region,” says Rashad-Franklin. “The culture, the people—when you experience it yourself, you’ll be as speechless as I am.”

After touring the ghost town, wander over to the Starlight Theatre, Restaurant & Saloon. This historic watering hole is a hub for live music, food, and drinks. Try the famous Texas chili. Terlingua hosts an annual chili cook-off with more than 10,000 attendees, so you can bet they take the chili seriously.

Go Off-Road

From the Chisos Mountains to the vast Chihuahuan Desert, Big Bend Country is enormous. To fully experience the sprawling terrain, take a scenic drive, off-road-style. The historic 51-mile River Road in Big Bend National Park offers panoramic views of the park, with rugged mountains rising above desert washes as far as the eye can see. Up for more 4×4 action? Drive two miles down a narrow gravel road, then hike the half-mile trail to , where you can soak in geothermal water.

If you don’t have a high-clearance 4×4 vehicle, the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive is your best bet. The 31-mile paved route connects some of the park’s most famous viewpoints.

Travel Texas works with local visitors bureaus, chambers of commerce, and private travel-related organizations to promote travel to Texas. Learn more at .

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Some people book hotels for high-quality gyms; others prioritize al fresco bathtubs. For me, an astrophotographer, accommodation selection comes down to one thing: stargazing potential.

With the recent astrotourism boom, due in part to the amazing northern-lights viewing in the U.S. this year, many lodges have bolstered their night-sky offerings. But not all dark-sky retreats are created equally. Simply having a view of constellations or being located near a low-light-pollution park doesn’t necessarily make for a stellar stargazing hotel.

A true dark-sky retreat makes the nightscape a main attraction. I’ve traveled to my fair share of properties that fit this bill, and others I can’t wait to check into for a night of cosmos-watching. Here are the ones I recommend in the U.S., Canada, and Mexico.

Sky Village at Canyon of the Ancients Guest Ranch

Cortez, Colorado

Hidden among the mesas and grassy valleys of the arid Colorado Plateau lies one of my favorite Milky Way–watching lookouts on the continent: . The southwestern Colorado getaway, bookended between its namesake monument and the Ute Mountain Reserve, enjoys pristine night views best enjoyed from the new Star Tower, a two-story structure with views of Sleeping Ute Mountain that opened in 2023.

Its architecture is reminiscent of the Ancestral Puebloan cliff dwellings found at nearby Mesa Verde National Park, located 30 miles east. You can spend days here bouncing between parks, hiking the nearby trails, and meeting the ranch’s farm animals. Come nightfall, all eyes are on the sky—particularly if you’re relaxing on the tower’s star-view deck. From $515

oTentik

Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan

As our northern neighbor’s inkiest dark-sky preserve, certified by the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada, nightscapes are about as star-speckled as they were when the dinosaurs tromped here—a history that draws fossil hunters and astrotourists alike.

Few accommodations exist in this 280-square-mile swath of mixed-grass prairie, but you can book Parks Canada’s , a collection of 12 cozy safari-style accommodations in the Frenchman Valley and Rock Creek campgrounds, designed with both sleeping and living-room spaces for up to six people. Based here, you can scour for fossils and admire the resident buffalo by day and gaze across 360 degrees of starry skies from your tent perch come dusk.

It’s worth mentioning that the park is ideally situated near the remote Saskatchewan-Montana border, a spot known for aurora sightings. Like many of our favorite contiguous U.S. aurora-hunting spots, lights viewing can occur here year-round. From $115

Under Canvas Bryce Canyon

Widtsoe, Utah

, lauded for its upscale, national-park-adjacent glamp sites, made an astrotourism splash in 2023 when it partnered with global light-pollution authority DarkSky International to turn a into the first DarkSky-certified resorts. At this especially incredible 50-tent outpost, located just 15 miles north of Bryce Canyon, an International DarkSky Park, the skies turn particularly dusky each night.

According to the nine-level Bortle Scale of , the property’s skies have the darkest rating: Class 1. Admire constellations from your private porch, join guided stargazing sessions, try meditative star bathing, or get hands on with community telescopes. The crème de la crème for space enthusiasts is the Stargazer tent, which features a large skylight to admire starry skies as as you doze off.

Under Canvas Bryce Canyon, is open from May through September. From $472

Fresh Coast Cabins

Eagle Harbor, Michigan

While I’ve enjoyed northern lights sightings around the world, few places have been as lucky for me as , ten trendy, family-owned cabins on Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula. It ticks every box on my lower 48 aurora-hunting checklist: a clear, north-facing view across Lake Superior—essential for catching the swirls since they appear closer to the horizon in lower latitudes—and virtually no light pollution.

Its spacious campfire-gathering space draws guests outdoors at night for a few hours of star- and aurora-gazing, but I recommend that avid sky-watchers book Cabin Nine or the slightly pricier Aurora Major Suite. Both boast private porches with sweeping lake views. After a dose of astronomical awe, pop into the property’s new , a traditional Finnish construction, then trot the path down to the lake for a reinvigorating dip in its waters. Repeat as needed. From $300

Four Seasons Resort Lanai

Lanai City, Hawaii

The 213-room may be a five-star splurge, but for night-sky buffs interested in stargazing as well as authentic Native culture, it’s worth it. The resort, set on this small, palm-fringed island roughly an hour via ferry from Maui, runs that spotlights both the stars and the stories of the Indigenous Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders that long relied on them for navigation. The observatory is also open to residents during special community events and for STEM internship programs for local students.

Expert-led star talks delve into celestial navigation history, and you can peer through a 3.2-foot telescope for a closer look at the skies. Other evening activities at the resort include full-moon themed dinners and guided starlit meditations overlooking Holopoe Bay, where the crashing waves add a splash of sound therapy. From $1,500

Pleasant Acres Reindeer Ranch

Pleasant Valley, Alaska

Aurora hunting from , a new getaway some 30 miles east of Fairbanks, is like sky-watching from a holiday snow globe. The 18-acre property is about as North Pole as U.S. travel gets. There are four igloo-style domes, named after caribou herds in Alaska, and each with a private deck positioned just above a bustling reindeer hangout. That means endless nights of watching for the northern lights with Santa’s helpers lazing nearby. Another thoughtful perk is a kitchenette equipped with a microwave—perfect for warming cocoa during long nights awake.

Worried about dozing through the show? Sign up for the ranch’s complimentary aurora alerts so you don’t miss a second of the colorful swirls. Daytime adventures include reindeer hikes and dogsled rides. And if you visit during the summer, the ranch has room-darkening shades for snoozing despite the all-hours midnight sun. From $280

The Oasis at Death Valley

Death Valley National Park, California

There’s a reason stargazers flock to this national park. Its remote and arid landscape, named a Gold Tier Dark Sky Park by DarkSky International, delights with obsidian skies across its 3.4 million acres of salt flats, sand dunes, and rainbow-hued hills. Even on bright-moon nights at the , I could spy countless stars. That said, it’s best to visit around a new moon, particularly in the less toasty months of October to February, for after-dark festivities that spotlight the park’s spellbinding skies.

The Oasis, included in DarkSky International’s certification of the park in 2013, offers two hotels: the higher-end , with 66 rooms and 22 casitas, and the , with 275 rooms. You’ll enjoy the park’s signature nightscapes from either landing pad, particularly during the annual in early March. Another great post-sunset adventure is the s offered by Furnace Creek Stables ($120 for one hour). Ranch rooms from $170; inn rooms from $356

Rancho La ConcepciĂłn

Los Manzanos, Mexico

A heaven full of stars awaits travelers willing to go off-grid to this small, sustainable, and Wi-Fi-free ranch in the wilderness of Baja California, some 115 miles southeast of Ensenada. offers three rustic-chic cabins near the mountainous Parque Nacional Sierra de San Pedro Mártir, an area so dark that astronomers decided to situate the country’s second-largest telescope here. You can visit , a 23-mile drive east, during select public events, including presentations the first Friday of each month.

That said, Rancho La Concepción’s Bortle Class 1 skies make it hard to leave—particularly when the owners run space-sighting sessions with hot chocolate on hand. If there’s just one or two of you, book to watch the sparkly skies from bed. From $130

Thorny Mountain Fire Tower

Seneca State Forest, West Virginia

On the eastern side of West Virginia, a half-day’s drive from Washington, D.C., Seneca State Forest draws anglers and hikers eager to trek the area’s strech of the 330-mile Allegheny Trail. Come nightfall, there’s no better vantage point than the forest’s 65-foot-highĚý, a refurbished accommodation and picturesque dark-sky retreat that juts well above the pines.

The two-bed tower can sleep up to four people and retains the rustic, low-frills aesthetic of its 1935 beginnings, with 360-degree windows and a wrap-around balcony that lets Mother Nature do the decorating. The digs, reached via 69 steps, are only available from April through October and get scooped up almost a year in advance. Once you’re there, staring up in wonder at the bright cosmos, it’s not hard to see why it’s so special. From $150

Compass Rose Lodge

Huntsville, Utah

The Ogden Valley isn’t solely for ski buffs. The eclectic 15-room illustrates the region’s astrotourism allure, starting with the on-site . The stargazing haven, roughly 45 miles north of Salt Lake City, is open to guests and the local community, with telescopes to peer into space and nightly guided observations.

Also worthy of your time is the , just 2.5 miles north of the Compass Rose.Ěý A 13-mile-long model of our solar system, the project includes sculptures and artistic renderings of the planets, best enjoyed on a ride along the (bike rentals are available at the lodge). From $279

Summit at Big Bend

Terlingua, Texas

At nine million acres, southern Texas’s Greater Big Bend International Dark Sky Reserve is the largest dark sky reserve in the world. It encompasses not only Big Bend National Park but the ghost town of Terlingua and its nearby astro hub, the . Its glamping accommodations, from domes to cave dwellings, offer jet-black Bortle Class 1 nightscapes across 1,000 private desert acres.

For astronomy fans, it’s tough to beat—or catch any shut-eye in—the property’s stargazing domes, where clear ceilings and front walls are optimal for watching the shrub-dotted desert transition from blue-sky day to shimmery polka-dotted twilight. Catch the cosmos from your dome or your ownĚý fire pit, or enjoy the reserve’s numerous other , including astro programming in nearby —its Maverick Junction entrance is 17 miles to the east. From $159

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř and astrotourism writer Stephanie Vermillion travels the globe in search of the best night-sky views, from stargazing-themed hotels to aurora-hunting campsites. Her upcoming book 100 Nights of a Lifetime: The World’s Ultimate şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍřs After Dark will be out December 3.

The post These 11 Dark-Sky Retreats Are the Perfect Places to Look Up appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Hiking in our national parks is high on the list of many visitors, and long trails don’t always equate to the best views. In fact, many short, scenic options are just as worthy.

I love a good short hike, and on my adventures to all 63 U.S. national parks, I discovered that you don’t always have to go big to get big views. Maybe you have young kids in tow or are simply seeking a mellow day in nature. So I’ve compiled a list of my favorite short hikes in national parks, each of which is postcard-worthy. All distances mentioned are round-trip.

Acadia National Park, Maine

Trail name:

Distance: 2.1 miles

I’ve raved about the Bar Island Trail for şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř before, naming it one of the best wheelchair-accessible hikes in the country. I still maintain that this gravel strip north of downtown Bar Harbor is one Acadia’s most unique hikes, because it’s an utterly accessible stroll that’s technically off-trail. Grab a , because the pathway trail is only water-free for 90 minutes before and after low tide, and say goodbye to those storybook cottages in favor of Bar Island’s rocky beaches.

Big Bend National Park, Texas

Trail name:

Distance: Ěý1.6 miles

When I visited Big Bend’s Santa Elena Canyon in 2020, I rushed to get there just as the sun was setting, so I could watch that big fireball in the sky paint the limestone walls of the canyon in hushed, warm hues. But take your time driving the 30-mile to the trailhead, too. It’s home to the aptly named Mule Ears rock formations, as well as impressive Chihuahuan Desert vistas.

Canyonlands National Park, Utah

Trail name:

Distance: 1.8 miles

Of all the trails I’ve hiked on my three trips to Moab, Utah, this trek over to Grand View Point in Canyonlands has got to be the best low-effort, high-reward journey. Start from Grand View Point Overlook and, if you’re not afraid of heights and cliff edges, meander along tangerine-tinted cliffs on a relatively flat, 0.9-mile trail, with views stretching into a maw of the earth, where the Colorado and Green Rivers converge.

Carlsbad Caverns National Park, New Mexico

Trail name:

Distance: 1.25 miles

I couldn’t create a list of the best easy national-park hikes without including something from Carlsbad Caverns, one of the most family-friendly and wheelchair-accessible parks of the lot. This trail can be accessed via the visitor center’s elevator, which travels 750 feet into the belly of the earth, or the 1.25-mile Natural Entrance Trail (yes, you can take the elevator back up to ground level). Then get ready to marvel at thousands of stalactites and stalagmites, many of which resemble hanging jellyfish and posh chandeliers.

Crater Lake National Park, Oregon

Trail name:

Distance: 1.8 miles

July is my favorite month to summit 7,881-foot Watchman Peak, when the high-elevation wildflowers—purple lupine and bright fuchsia beardtongues—are in full bloom. Not only will you glean better views of Wizard Island as you climb, but from the top, you can check out a .

Denali National Park and Preserve, Alaska

Trail name:

Distance: 2 miles

There aren’t many maintained trails in Denali (or Alaska, for that matter), but the Savage River Loop is an excellent choice if you’re on one of the park’s famous hop-on, hop-off green transit buses that run between the entrance and the deep interior. In summer, enjoy the verdant tundra and views of the Alaska Range’s foothills as you follow the rushing Savage upstream for a mile before turning around. Bring your bear spray if you’re hiking in Denali–this trail was closed to hikers when I visited in 2020, due to a surly mama bear.

Glacier National Park, Montana

Trail name:

Distance: 5 miles

Avalanche Lake Trail is one of the most popular in Glacier–it’s shaded, has moderate elevation gain, and ends at a mirror-clear alpine lake, studded with waterfalls—the scene is like one from middle-earth. You can extend your trip into a six-mile journey if you stroll along the shoreline to escape the throngs at the turnaround point. Pro tip: if you plan to picnic at the lake, be sure to hide your food from crafty marmots out for a free lunch.

Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Trail name: South Kaibab Trail to

Distance: 1.8 miles

When I first laid eyes on Ooh Aah Point, I chuckled—here was one of the most appropriate signposts for a view that I’d ever seen inside a national park. From this drop-dead gorgeous spot, located just 0.9 miles and 600 feet below the South Kaibab Trailhead, you’ll be able to take in a mind-blowing assemblage of rust-red sandstone plateaus and mesas, stretching out as far as the eye can see. Feeling frisky? Extend your hike to (3.1 miles round-trip) for even more canyon magic.

Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

Trail name: (also known as String Lake Loop)

Distance: 3.6 miles

For easy hikes in Grand Teton, I’d stay near the park’s shimmering , which boast impressive views of the immense, pointed mountains and but are home to trails that are relatively flat. This particular loop circumnavigates String Lake, with scene-stealing vistas of Rockchuck Peak and Mount Saint John along the way. Bring your SUP along and ply the lake’s cool waters after your jaunt.

Great Basin National Park, Nevada

Trail name:

Distance: 2.8 miles

When I hiked this path with my partner in late May 2020, we ended up breaking trail in thigh-deep snow, but from June through September, this is an easy trek to many of the oldest trees on earth. Meditate among these gnarled beauties in the shadow of Wheeler Peak—the state’s second highest, at 13,065 feet—and its myriad boulders. Want a longer variation? Continue along the same path to the Wheeler Peak Glacier for a 4.4-mile trip.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park, North Carolina and Tennessee

Trail name:

Distance: 2.6 miles

Beat the heat in America’s most-visited national park on this shaded stroll to a cascading waterfall, bookended by mossy boulders. You’ll likely spot salamanders near the cool creek as you stroll through an old-growth hemlock forest and end up at the 25-foot-high Grotto Falls. Dip your feet into the refreshing water before turning back the way you came.

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, Hawaii Island

Trail name:

Distance: 2.9 miles

It’s rare to walk through a tropical rainforest, check out hissing steam vents, and witness an active volcano all in a single trail, but Hawaii Volcanoes is not your average national park. For the best experience, park near the visitor center, hike this well-maintained path at sunset, and try to spot the otherworldly pink glow of lava from the as it gets dark.

Isle Royale National Park, Michigan

Trail name:

Distance: 4.3 miles

If you’ve only got one day in Isle Royale, this is the trail to take. Beginning in the popular Rock Harbor area, on the main island’s eastern edge, the trail travels in and out of boreal forest and across dark gray volcanic rocks until it reaches Scoville Point, with its sweeping views of Lake Superior. When you’ve had enough of feeling like you’re standing at the edge of the known world, return via the north side of the peninsula for even better forest bathing.

Katmai National Park, Alaska

Trail name: Brooks Falls Trail

Distance: 2.4 miles

Yes, getting to Katmai is a long adventure that involves a floatplane from Anchorage. I’ve had the distinct pleasure of visiting the park twice, and it blew my mind both times. For starters, it’s a fantastic place to watch salmon swimming upstream from July through September. This also means it’s one of the best places in the state to watch hungry grizzly bears fattening themselves up on the spawning fish. Stow your food at , then cross the Brooks River on an elevated boardwalk trail. Once you reach the falls, have that camera ready to snap photo after photo of the ornery beasts feeding.

Lassen Volcanic National Park, California

Trail name:

Distance: 3 miles

Want to be wowed by sizzling hydrothermal features, but don’t want to travel all the way to Yellowstone? Lesser-known Bumpass Hell, apart from having an amazing name, is home to some seriously cool steam vents, scalding hot springs, and bubbling mud pots. After stretching your legs on the trail, take a dip in Lake Helen, just across Lassen National Park Highway, and crane your neck up at 10,457-foot-high Lassen Peak.

Mount Rainier National Park, Washington

Trail name:

Distance: 4.7 miles

The Paradise area is my favorite section of this gorgeous park, and while I trekked along this moderate hike, I saw a huge, fluffy mountain goat and had terrific views of Rainier’s serrated glaciers. 72-foot-tall Myrtle Falls is the real showstopper, though, because it’s perfectly framed by trees beneath Rainier. If you’d prefer an ever mellower day out, you can turn this trek into a simple stroll via the Golden Gate Trail.

New River Gorge National Park, West Virginia

Trail name:

Distance: 3.2 miles

Though New River Gorge is perhaps best known for its rock climbing and whitewater rafting, I thoroughly enjoyed hiking its many forested trails when I visited in 2021. This out-and-back to Long Point meanders through a forest of spruce and hemlock before popping you out onto a rocky ledge with one of the best New River Bridge photo ops in the park.

Redwood National Park, California

Trail name:

Distance: 3.5 miles

You’ll need to to hike this lollipop loop, which meanders through some of the tallest trees on the planet, but any hassle is well worth it. Drive down a washboard road just east of Orick for roughly 6 miles and park in the designated dirt lot before descending 700 feet to the Tall Trees Grove, keeping your eyes peeled for epic oyster mushrooms and sword ferns along the way. I’d plan on spending at least an hour quietly perusing these ancient redwoods. This is forest bathing at its finest.

Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

Trail name:

Distance: 5 miles

Technically, the Ute Trail is an eight-mile round-trip hike, but the best thing about one-way hikes is that you can make them as short as your heart desires. Beginning at the Alpine Visitor Center, which sits at a lofty 11,796 feet, this trail winds along moderately graded tundra slopes and offers awesome views of the Never Summer Mountain Range. Hike it in the morning to avoid the dangerous afternoon lightning storms—my partner and I once had to jam to find shelter on a too thrilling post-lunch trek.

Sequoia National Park, California

Trail name:

Distance: 2.8 miles

If you’re in Sequoia and planning on visiting the , which is the largest by volume on earth), I heartily recommend extending your forest-bathing stroll to include the Congress Trail. A mostly flat lollipop loop, it passes the enormous trees within the Giant Forest. Best of all? A few hundred feet past General Sherman, you’ll escape the lion’s share of the crowds.

Virgin Islands National Park, St. John

Trail name:

Distance: 2.7 miles

Though this trail starts from an unassuming trailhead, right behind the park’s Cruz Bay Visitor Center, it quickly redeems itself with incredible views of aquamarine water, following a brief climb to 160-foot-high Lind Point. From there, you’ll curve through the lush, humid forest and switchback down, down, down to Salomon Beach, which has all the tropical beauty of nearby Honeymoon Beach—but none of the crowds.

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Trail name:

Distance: 3.5 miles

After taking obligatory pictures of the and its roaring waterfall, I made a random left turn onto an uncrowded trail and quickly uncovered one of my favorite hikes in the National Park System. This trip out to Point Sublime showcases the churning Yellowstone River, hundreds of feet below, while following a forested edge of the canyon whose crimson-and-marigold-colored slopes plunge toward the current for the entirety of the hike.

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Trail name:

Distance: 1.5 miles

This is the trail that most people think of when they picture Yellowstone’s most famous attraction, Old Faithful, with that meandering boardwalk stretching far beyond it. And, to be honest, it’s pretty darn incredible in person. Cross the Firehole River, and check out one of the world’s largest assortments of hydrothermal features on this flat, wheelchair-accessible loop. Be sure to download the app, which offers info on the predicted eruption times. My personal favorite geyser is Castle, which gushes up to 75 feet high and for as long as 20 minutes.

Yosemite National Park, California

Trail name:

Distance: 4.4 miles

Sure, this trek might not routinely crack the top tenĚýYosemite trail listicles, but it’s the first place I take my friends who have never been to the park before. You’ll set off from the iconic Glacier Point viewing area and then enjoy second-to-none panoramas of Half Dome, Liberty Cap, and 594-foot-high Nevada Fall for nearly the entirety of the hike. It’s also an ideal way to remove yourself from the Glacier Point parking-lot crowds and fully immerse yourself in the surrounds.

Zion National Park, Utah

Trail name:

Distance:Ěý1 mile

Move over, Angel’s Landing. In terms of low-effort, high-reward hikes, this is easily the best one in Zion. Park near the Zion–Mount Carmel Tunnel, on the less traveled eastern side of the park; from there this path climbs 163 feet, past vermillion layer-cake-like hoodoos and scrubby pinñon pines. My favorite part is the turnaround point: you’re greeted with jaw-dropping views of the craggy Temples and Towers of the Virgin, sandstone monoliths that appear on park postcards. Keep your eyes peeled for bighorn sheep.

Emily Pennington is a freelance writer based in Boulder, Colorado. Her book came out in 2023. This year she’s tackling loads of short hikes in the Rocky Mountains to get ready for a trip to remote East Greenland.

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Terlingua, Texas, doesn’t have a lot of people. The tiny settlement (population 100ish) is literally a ghost town, where a handful of homes and businesses mingle with a cemetery and the stone ruins of a late 1800s mining camp. It’s dusty, hot as hell, and about 240 miles to the nearest Whole Foods. And yet, I fell in love with Terlingua on myĚý first visit. The locals were friendly, the beer was cold, the food was good, and the place is just eight miles from Big Bend National Park, which protects a million acres of desert, mountains, and the Rio Grande. Add in the mountain biking at Big Bend Ranch State Park and the incredibly dark, starry sky that blankets the whole area every night, and you have a fantastic gateway town.

Terlingua isn’t the only burg with an ideal mix of charm, culture, and adventure. Below I’ve picked my favorite gateway towns in the U.S. Some are well-known destinations, while others still qualify as sleepy, but they all sit next to world-class national parks.

Bryson City, North Carolina

More than 12 million people visit Great Smoky Mountains National Park every year, and most of them access it on the west side through Gatlinburg, Tennessee. But Bryson City (pop.: 1,500), on the eastern North Carolina side of the park, offers a mellow experience void of water parks and mega resorts, in a less-busy corner of GSMNP. The serene Lake Fontana and the trails that extend from its shoreline sit right out the small city’s back door.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: The majority of the north shore of Fontana Lake is inaccessible by car, making for a peaceful experience. The 33-mile point-to-point traces the edge of the lake, delivering hikers to isolated backcountry campsites, waterfalls, and fly fishing on streams that rush to join the reservoir.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: The Nantahala River is 20 minutes south of town, offering a popular class III run loaded with wave trains and views of the narrow Nantahala Gorge. Rent duckies and rafts from (from $39). Mountain bikers, head to in Nantahala National Forest, with 40 miles of flowy singletrack and the occasional view of Lake Fontana.

Where to Eat: Bryson City’s food scene has blossomed in recent years. I like The Rice Wagon, which serves Hawaiian-inspired dishes outside the Mountain Layers brewery every day. Get the Kalua pork with rice and macaroni salad.

Where to Stay: There are a few inexpensive motels on the outskirts of town, but your best bet is to find a tucked into the woods surrounding Bryson City.

Where to Get Gear: has hiking gear as well as a taproom with local beer. They also run shuttles for hikers exploring the North Carolina side of the park and Nantahala National Forest.

Jackson, Wyoming

It would be an egregious oversight to leave out Jackson, so I’m not going to fight it. The outpost receives plenty of attention, but consider the bonafides: This cute-rustic Wild West town sits at the base of the Tetons, with Grand Teton National Park so close that you can ride your bike to it via a multi-use path. Yellowstone National Park is just 2.5 hours away, and Jackson Hole Mountain Resort is 20 minutes north, while the local fave, Snow King Resort, drops right into downtown.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside Grand Teton National Park: Wake up early and get after the 20-mile long , which traverses two canyons, passes two backcountry lakes (Lake Solitude and Holly Lake) and delivers views of Mount Moran, Mount Woodring, and Rockchuck Peak from the top of 10,700-foot Paintbrush Divide.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Grand Teton National Park: Raft the Snake River Canyon, stacked with eight miles of Class I to III rapids and scenery that oscillates between sheer gray rock walls and gentler slopes peppered with stands of evergreens. runs half-day trips from $105 a person. Or ride the six-mile section of the Jackson Hole Multi-Use Pathway that runs through the , where elk, bison, and wolves roam through expansive grasslands.

Where to Eat: Creekside Market and Deli has fresh grab-and-go sandwiches and boozy slushies that hit the spot on a hot afternoon. If you’re looking for an upscale dinner, has French-inspired dishes like cassoulet and mussels and fries.

Where to Stay: Rooms in Jackson can get pricey, but the is a refurbished motor lodge with tons of outdoor space, including a swimming pool, with large rooms from $271 a night.

Where to Get Gear: has bike rentals (from $55), and has hiking and climbing gear, if you’ve forgotten anything.

Grand Lake, Colorado

Estes Park soaks up most of the attention (and visitors), but the town of Grand Lake (pop.: 410) sits on the quieter western side of Rocky Mountain National Park, boasting Gold Rush charm with a fraction of the crowds. The Grand Lake Boardwalk, built in the early 1880s, connects shops and restaurants, while the 400-foot-deep Grand Lake borders town, with a public beach just a block from downtown.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: The backcountry lakes on the east side of the park are packed, but Lake Verna, a 34-acre pool at 10,200 feet in elevation, flies under the radar. Hike 6.6 miles on the , passing through aspens and pines while looking for moose and elk in East Meadow, a grassy field bisected by East Inlet Creek. The lake itself is known to be home to a healthy, and hungry, population of brook trout, if you want to bring a fly rod.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Grab a paddleboard from ($30 an hour) and paddle the canal that connects the windier Grand Lake to Shadow Mountain Reservoir, a 1,346-acre lake that’s more protected and user friendly for paddleboarders. The 10,000-foot Shadow Mountain dominates the east side of the lake.

Where to Eat: Casual steak houses and BBQ joints have long been the mainstay in Grand Lake, but One Love Rum Kitchen is spicing things up with Caribbean fare and classic, rum-based “boat drinks.” Get the coconut rum chicken and wash it down with the Painkiller cocktail.

Where to Stay: sits on the border of Rocky Mountain National Park, with a large deck overlooking Grand Lake and Shadow Mountain and Mount Craig. Snag one of their recently renovated cabins, the originals of which were ordered from the Sears and Roebuck catalog more than 100 years ago, back when you could buy DIY home kits from the department-store catalog (from $164 a night).

Where to Get Gear: has everything from paddleboards to puffies (and SUP pumps if you forget yours), as well as rentals like bear canisters and kid carriers.

Bar Harbor, Maine

Can someone even separate Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park? The town of 5,000, which sits on the eastern edge of Mount Desert Island, is flanked by Frenchman Bay on one side and Acadia (New England’s only national park) on the other, with trails leaving directly from downtown. Yachts and lobster boats speckle the harbor on one side of town, while rolling mountains dominated by hardwoods rise on the other. In between is a vibrant downtown full of lobster shacks and boutique shops.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: You can’t visit Acadia without climbing the , which rises more than 1,000 feet in just under a mile up the side of Champlain Mountain. It’s a full-contact adventure as you scramble over boulders and ascend a series of iron rungs and ladders up the granite face of Champlain. From the top, you can see all of Frenchman Bay below.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Kayak the Porcupines, a chain of four islands in Frenchman Bay, for the beauty and a chance to see seals in the water and bald eagles nesting in the trees. runs half-day trips with beach-combing breaks on the islands (from $67 per person).

Where to Eat: Seafood is it. Lobster rolls are ubiquitous, but start with the one at , which is served with mayo on a grilled brioche bun.

Where to Stay: blends high-end safari tents with an airy lodge complete with local taps and an onsite outfitter service. There’s plenty of lawn space for games and a pool, too (from $339 a night).

Where to Gear Up: , in the heart of Bar Harbor, has kayaking, hiking, and limbing gear if you need to pick up last-minute equipment.

Terlingua, Texas

There’s Texas, there’s West Texas, and then there’s Far West Texas, a region tucked between the Chisos Mountains and the Rio Grande that is so remote, it makes Montana feel like the suburbs. Terlingua (Pop.: 110ish), is the unofficial capital of Far West Texas, but don’t expect a lot of hustle and bustle. The roads are mostly dirt, and the town is as much historic mining ruins as active businesses. But you’ll find a bike shop, nice people, and a vibrant food scene, all sandwiched between Big Bend National Park and Big Bend Ranch State Park.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: Hike the , which is short (just 1.6 miles round trip) but delivers you to the edge of the Rio Grande, where the canyon’s walls rise 1,500 feet above the water. After the hike, drive to the , where you can soak in a 105-degree pool, still right next to the Rio Grande.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Big Bend Ranch State Park has more than 200 miles of singletrack and dirt road open for mountain biking. Pack plenty of water (remember: at least two liters per person), start out at dawn to avoid the heat of the day, and pedal the 57-mile , which will take you through slopes of sparkling crystals to the edge of a real-life oasis, with a small waterfall dropping into a tight gorge with a pool big enough for plunging.

Where to Eat: A food-truck scene has popped up in recent years, so there are more options in Terlingua than ever before. Or head to Long Draw Pizza for the Terlingua Spur pie, which is part fajitas/part pizza. Get a six-pack of beer from the Terlingua Trading Company, and sit on its front porch mingling with locals and tourists alike. The Starlight has excellent food, live music, and history: for years this restaurant had no roof, hence the name.

Where to Stay: The last time I was in Terlingua, I pitched a tent near the historic cemetery among the mining ruins in the middle of town. These days you can rent a “Bubble” from , with see-through walls and its own hot tub (from $299 a night). They have nice campsites (from $45 a night) and tear-drop-shaped Lotus tents, too (from $129 a night).

Where to Get Gear: offers bikes, gear, and guided adventures all over the Big Bend region.

Port Angeles, Washington

Sandwiched between the Salish Sea and the million-acre Olympic National Park, Port Angeles (pop.: 20,000) is part harbor town and part mountain town, offering the best of both worlds. The Olympic Mountains rise to 5,000 feet from the edge of one side of town, while you can see Canada, less than 20 miles across the Strait of Juan de Fuca, on the other. The place has attracted boat builders, commercial fishermen, and mountain bikers and surfers alike. From downtown, you can catch a ferry to Canada, or hop on the 60-mile and pedal or run a piece of it (or all of it) throughĚý Olympic National Park.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: Go deep into Olympic by backpacking a 37-mile out and back on the to Blue Glacier, through a rainforest thick with old growth that rises from a floor of moss and ferns. The hike culminates in a view of the 1.7-square-mile Blue Glacier, its crevasse-cut expanse dominating a valley between gray-rock peaks on the edge of the white-capped Mount Olympus.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Kayaking the Strait of Juan de Fuca is a veritable safari, as you’re looking for bald eagles flying above and harbor seals in the calm water surrounding you. Kayakers often see river otters, as well as colorful starfish that cling to the rocky coast. runs regular half-day trips (starting at $89 per person)

Where to Eat: Next Door Gastropub is a staple of the community. Get the fish and chips with Alaskan cod, or the poutine with a fried egg. Or both.

Where to Stay: The is a replica of the first president’s home, Mount Vernon, built on a lavender farm overlooking the strait. Classic bed-and-breakfast hospitality meets one of the best views on the Olympic Peninsula (from $360 a night, breakfast included).

Where to Get Gear: has everything from climbing gear to local guidebooks. And yes, bikes and kayaks, plus tubes, pumps, paddles, PFDs…and all the little things you might’ve forgotten from home.

Copper Harbor, Michigan

Isle Royale National Park is not easy to get to. The park is made up of more than 450 islands in the middle of Lake Superior, hours from the mainland. You can catch a three-hour ferry ride from Copper Harbor, located on the edge of Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula, but you might not want to leave Copper Harbor, as it has one of the most vibrant mountain-bike scenes in the Midwest, not to mention welcoming Upper Peninsula hospitality.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: Because of the three-hour ($160 per adult, round trip), Isle Royale isn’t a “day trip” kind of place. Try to book a room at (from $245 a night) and spend a couple of days exploring the island. You can rent canoes from Rock Harbor Marina (from $23 for a half day) and paddle some of the fjord-like inlets along the coast of the island. On land, hike the four-mile , which forms a lollipop loop near Rock Harbor and is packed with epic views of Lake Superior and the rocky shoreline of the island.

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Don’t come to Copper Harbor without a mountain bike. More than of purpose-built trail covers this nook of the Keweenaw Peninsula, offering a smorgasbord of backcountry bliss, tech features, and rhythmic undulations. The three-mile delivers on the name’s promise.

Where to Eat: Harbor Haus offers German-inspired upscale fare with killer views of the lake. The whitefish is pulled fresh from the water you’re staring at from your table.

Where to Stay: has motel rooms and cabins two blocks from Lake Superior (from $105 a night).

Where to Get Gear: has bikes (rentals from $40) and kayaks, tours, shuttles, and more.

Whitefish, Montana

Is Whitefish a ski town or a gateway town? Both. Sure, Whitefish Mountain Resort rises from the edge of downtown, but Glacier National Park is just 27 miles away. Hell, nestled up against the 3,300-acre body of water of the same name, Whitefish is also a lake town with its own community beach. Oh, and it’s a progressive trail town as the community works to complete the 55-mile Whitefish Trail, a multi-use singletrack path connecting Whitefish proper with area lakes, rivers, and recreation areas.

Best şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park: Hike the , which might be the quintessential Glacier Experience. The 12-mile point-to-point trek traverses the western flank of Continental Divide, following cliffs with the aid of cables, passing through meadows where mountain goats and bighorn sheep may appear, and offering views deep into the park.

Best şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř the Park: Pedal the . When finished, the WT will form a 55-plus-mile loop around the community, but you don’t have to wait; there are 47 miles of singletrack on the ground now. Or head straight to , where 15 miles of singletrack are loaded with the wooden features made popular by bike parks on the North Shore of Vancouver.

Where to Eat: Bonsai Brewing Company has a knack for IPAs as well as hearty rice bowls. Get the Bowlin’ Out, with pickled veggies and hummus. On Thursdays, local DJs show up to spin their own collections of vinyl.

Where to Stay: The has lodge rooms, cabins, and campsites directly on the Whitefish Trail, also a wood-fired sauna, not to mention shuttles and rentals (from $50 a night).

Where to Get Gear: has gear for every adventure sport under the sun, as well as rentals and tours.

Fayetteville, West Virginia

This former mining town has been reborn as an adventure hub with quick access to world-class rock climbing and whitewater rafting inside the New River Gorge. The New River Gorge was named America’s 63^rd national park in only 2020, proof that this area and its deep, rugged canyon are truly amazing. The town of 2,800 isn’t much bigger than the historic square where you’ll find the majority of shops and restaurants. But just past the edge of town, the earth drops 1,000 feet to the bottom of the river thanks to millions of years of erosion, turning Fayetteville’s backyard into a playground for hikers, climbers, and boaters.

Best şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Inside the Park:Ěý At just 70,000 acres, the New River Gorge National Park isn’t big, relatively speaking. But the adventure is stout. Raft the 12 miles of the Lower New to see the gorge in all its glory as you try to stay in the boat while navigating big water, class IV and V waves.

Best şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř of the Park: Just north of Fayetteville, Summersville Lake has 2,700 acres of aqua-blue water surrounded by sandstone cliffs, making it a hubbub of people paddling, swimming, and jumping from rocks into the water. offers full-day paddleboard adventures on the lake that take in the most scenic cliffs and waterfalls (from $120 per person).

Where to Eat: Pies and Pints is a cornerstone of Fayetteville. The pizzas range from traditional to weird (the Brunch Pie has scrambled eggs), but they’re always good. The selection of beer is unrivaled in the area, too.

Where to Stay: has campsites, primitive cabins, and deluxe homes situated on the edge of the canyon on an expansive property with its own restaurants, pool, and trail system (campsites from $39 a night).

Where to Get Gear: has hiking and climbing gear, as well as the local beta you need to make the most of your time in the gorge.

Graham Averill is şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř magazine’s national parks columnist. He appreciates a good gateway town, but has never actually lived within shouting distance of a national park. If he had to choose one of the towns listed above to call home, it might be Port Angeles, Washington. Still his favorite is Terlingua.

For more by this author:

The 8 Most Adventurous States in America. Number 1 Is …

And the 11 Least Visited National Parks Are…

11 Remote Destinations That Are Definitely Worth the Effort to Visit

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First it was the moon, then it was cloudy, then it rained. I’d been waiting five days for the Oregon skies to light up. Then around 10:30 on a cold April night, the clouds lifted, and the constellations swung into view. Auriga was already rising in the west, with its brightest star, Capella, gleaming against the black. Leo was directly above me in one direction, the Big Dipper in the other. To the east hung the bright orange star Arcturus.

My daughter and I were in Lake County, Oregon, a region that is savage but lovely, with sagebrush, juniper, and bunch grasses, and several fish and wildlife areas. There are hot springs, 300 species of birds—and world-class dark skies.

Lake County is the westernmost of Oregon’s three southeastern counties. The entire parcel of real estate is called the Oregon Outback, or its “empty quarter” because of the sparse population, vast ranges, and high deserts. When we arrived in the area for several days last month, snow still covered the ground down to about 3,000 feet, so high-altitude hiking was out. Instead, we settled for a scramble in an up-to 70-foot-deep ravine aptly named near Christmas Valley, in the northern part of the county. Nighttimes we looked at the skies—or tried to.

If a group of avid astronomers have their way, the combined 11.4 million acres (17,187 square miles) in these counties will become a , a designation for visual quality and remoteness. Pending approval by the Tucson-based nonprofit International Dark Sky Association (IDSA), the area would become the largest officially recognized stargazing sanctuary in the world.

“What we are doing is preserving the best [dark skies] left in the lower 48,” said Bob Hackett, executive director of Travel Southern Oregon. The group has submitted a 160-page application to the IDSA for this tract in Oregon to join 17 other locations around the world as official sanctuaries, but many local, state, and federal agencies must sign on first.

Thanks to the social distancing of recent years, stargazing has exploded in popularity even though as much as 80 percent of all Americans have never seen a star-filled sky, according to astronomy.com.

“We are passionate about this,” said Bill Kowalik, a retired geologist who chairs the IDSA’s Oregon chapter. ”The first time you see the Milky Way, you don’t forget it.”

Stargazing is best when there’s a new moon or during meteor showers, such as the Perseids, a prolific annual display associated with the comet Swift–Tuttle, which appears to originate from the constellation Perseus. This year the Perseids should be best seen from July 17 to August 24, peaking around August 13. Another prominent shower, the Delta Aquarids, whose point of origin or radiant is the constellation Aquarius, will peak around July 29 to 30. Together, the two displays should be a good show.

The state’s darkest-sky site, Kowalik said, is in the Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge just outside of Lakeview, a town near the California state line. Southern Oregon is smack in the middle of the upcoming annular solar eclipse on October 14. Be aware: savvy travelers are already snapping up lodgings from Crater Lake National Park to the town of Burns, in the Oregon Outback.

Here are nine other great places to see thousands of stars, planets, star clusters, meteors, man-made satellites, the Andromeda Galaxy, and the Milky Way.

1. Dark Sky Reserve, Central Idaho

±ő»ĺ˛ąłó´Ç’s lies north of the Sun Valley Resort in Ketchum, in the south-central part of the state, a region where you can also hike, fish, go kayaking and paddleboarding, and view waterfalls. From Ketchum, drive up Idaho state Route 75 through the Wood River Valley. (Fees at the multiple campgrounds in the area range from $18-$24 per night; look for a list). A few miles up the road is the Sawtooth National Recreation Area visitor center, which has bathrooms open 24 hours to accommodate stargazers. About 23 miles further is Galena Lodge, with a hippie vibe and a restaurant with backcountry yurts ($125-$165). Just after that you’ll find the Bethine and Frank Church Lookout at 8,700 feet, the most accessible viewing platform in the Reserve.

Stargazing has gotten so popular in those parts that Boise State University, with the help of a $1 million grant from NASA, has an astronomer-in-residence program. This summer, two astronomers will do lectures and stage star parties and meteor-watching gigs in Ketchum and Stanley, a small town 30 miles to the north of the overlook. , a rustic hotel near Stanley with stellar sky views, will host several activities.

2. Great Basin National Park, East-Central Nevada

One of the most remote national parks, this one offers hiking and backpacking trails, caves and wildlife viewing, and a whole lot of stars to see. High elevation, low humidity, and a desert climate that fosters clear skies all contribute to a marvelous show. Designated an International Dark Sky Park in 2016, it hosts an Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights from Memorial Day to Labor Day and an annual astronomy festival (September 14 to 16 this year). There’s even a run by the Nevada Northern Railway from Ely, 60 miles to the west, to take city dwellers out into the high steppe to look at stars under the guidance of national park rangers.

Campsites are scattered about the national park; my favorite was at Upper Lehman Campground, 7,500 feet elevation, with a nearby creek and tons of aspens. nearby cost $20 per night. Restaurant and lodging options are scarce in the nearby hamlet of Baker; to go the motel route, reserve space at the tiny months in advance. Rooms there average $97 a night; RV spaces are $35.

3. Cape Lookout National Seashore, Eastern North Carolina

This seashore has three barrier islands—North Core Banks, South Core Banks, and Shackleford Banks—with minimal light pollution. Access is by ferry. There are wild horses to see, birding, a lighthouse to ascend (207 steps), swimming (but no lifeguards) and fishing, and a visitor center on Harker’s Island, where the Crystal Coast Stargazers has public events. This is the only IDSA-certified site on the Eastern seaboard. Primitive is allowed on all three of the islands from March-November, but a $50 beach driving permit is required if you wish to park nearby. on South Core Banks rent for $100-$150/night. Think very rustic; and also that what you take in, you must take out, as there’s no trash pick-up there.

4. Greater Big Bend International Dark Sky Reserve, Southwestern Texas

This massive piece of real estate encompasses 15,000 square miles of wilderness, a haven for hiking and backpacking, in western Texas and northern Mexico. Within the Reserve are several locations that offer telescopes and guided stargazing programs. The , which is 190 miles east of El Paso in Fort Davis, has star parties Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, and special viewing nights.

In the tiny town of Marathon in south Texas are two observatory-grade reflector telescopes in an observatory 150 feet behind the (room rates range from $100-$150). Weather permitting, there are nightly. This middle-of-nowhere motel has become a big draw for astrophotographers. Closer to the Texas side of the Reserve are , at $14/night, and the ($170-$210/night) plus at $42/night.

5. Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, Northeastern Minnesota

This million-acre wilderness west of Duluth was designated a Dark Sky Sanctuary in 2020. The spot is known for , often lasting several days, in the Superior National Forest for families and specialty groups, and for great hiking, trail running, and fishing. For stargazing, winter is actually a good time to visit, as there are more hours of darkness, fewer bugs, and the opportunity to dogsled. In warmer months, try the , which is free. , at the entry point for the wilderness, costs $20-$24.

6. Katahdin Woods and Waters National Monument, North-Central Maine

Located in north-central Maine, the 87,564-acre Katahdin Woods and Waters National Monument has some of the darkest skies east of the Mississippi. Biking, hiking, climbing, canoeing, kayaking, and fishing as well as stargazing take place here under the watchful eye of Mount Katahdin, at 5,262 feet the highest peak in the state.

As one of the newer national monuments, this one is sparse in amenities and has little signage. There is an annual night every September. Fees are $8/night at the near Stacyville, Maine.

7. Lost Trail National Wildlife Refuge, Northwest Montana

One of the newest Dark Sky Sanctuaries (named last October) is this refuge with 9,225 acres, known for wildlife viewing and as a foraging and nesting habitat for migratory birds as well as its hiking trails. The sparsely populated state has a number of and a second Dark Sky Sanctuary at Medicine Rocks State Park, in Ekalaka, eastern Montana. The refuge offers camping within its boundaries. Try the nearby at $20/night. at the second sanctuary range from $4-$34.

8. Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, Western Colorado

This striking 2,000-foot gorge near the town of Montrose, parts of which only receive 33 minutes of sun each day, has excellent star viewing. The main activity is trout fishing and hiking the gorge, although the routes are strenuous to the point where to hike the primitive trails and scrambles. Above the floor are multipitch technical rock climbs requiring extensive experience to negotiate. Visitors peering down from the rims can also see the gorge’s steep spires, hence its nickname as a “vertical wilderness.” There is near both rims at $16/night, and a local group of astronomers stages an annual Astro Fest at the park each September.

9. Watoga State Park, Calvin Price State Forest, and Droop Mountain Battlefield State Park, Eastern West Virginia

This patch of real estate in east-central West Virginia forms a combined 19,859 acres. Although barely a five-hour drive from the Washington D.C. suburbs, the area is enveloped in enough national forest land to allow extra-clear skies, along with lots of hiking and mountain biking trails, swimming and fishing. Lodging options include in Marlinton, where cabins start at $127/night, and two campgrounds: Beaver Creek and Riverside, starting at $50/night.

Plus: Where to Stay in the Oregon Outback

Places include: , a lovely spot 25 miles southeast of Burns with RV spaces ($40), tent sites ($35), teepees ($145), rooms and cabins ($99-$185), and the Bullgate campground ($10) in the in Summer Lake, a tiny community at 4,150 feet elevation, encircled by the 3,000-foot escarpment of Winter Ridge. About 20 miles down the road, has RV sites ($25/night), cabins ($130-$230), and a five-acre dry camping field ($25/night). If you ascend further to the antelope refuge at 6,188 feet, try the free in Plush. We stayed at the ($75-$165), overlooking our own private pond, and watched the skies with our eyes only, no telescope.

Tips on Smart Stargazing

It’s easy to get turned around in the dark. (In March a woman in Death Valley National Park spent the night outside and was found by rangers at daybreak after she left her group to fetch something from the parking lot.) Be careful out there.

-Stay with your group.

-Bring a flashlight or headlamp with red light and extra batteries. Red light helps you navigate while preserving your night vision.

-Bring warm clothes.

-A mapping app like will trace your route out to a viewpoint so you can return the same way and not worry about losing the trail or overshooting your vehicle.

-Trekking poles are a great idea for stability when hiking in the dark.

-Let someone know where you are going and an estimated return time.

See also our list of top stargazing apps here.

Note that to your smartphone, using the settings in your iPhone or, for Androids, via the Twilight app.

Julia Duin lives in the Seattle area, and thinks her state of Washington has some of the best wilderness areas in the lower 48. She only began serious hiking in her 40s, when she took a job in Washington, D.C, and discovered the amazing trails along the Blue Ridge Parkway. She has skied since she was a teenager, and her proudest outdoor accomplishment is an 800-mile bike ride from the D.C. area to Lexington, Kentucky.

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We have cute bears in the Smokies. Deep black fur, chocolate-brown eyes, couple hundred pounds…giant teddy bears that look adorable from a safe distance.

Then one day I was running solo through Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I’d seen bears before, mostly from the saddle of my gravel bike, 100 yards away. But this time the bear was large, like a refrigerator on four paws, and just 30 feet off. I was alone, deep in the backcountry, and spooked it as I ran around a blind corner. The bear looked up, a sinister presence.

I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do. Should I look at my feet or stare back or run like hell?

Fortunately, the bear was absorbed in scratching at the ground near a tree, and after a glance my way went about its business. I sidestepped off the trail, giving the massive beast a 200-foot berth while keeping my eyes on it. A hundred yards later I crept back on the trail, and we both went our separate ways. That’s how most wildlife encounters go.

“People think they’re monsters that are bloodthirsty [and] want to attack humans,” says Jeremy Breitenstein, a wildlife photographer who’s been taking pictures of bears in the lower 48 and Alaska for several years. “But it’s just another wild animal that survives off vegetation. As long as you go into their territory prepared, you’ll be OK.”

Breitenstein did have a bad encounter with a grizzly in Alaska that tore into his tent. He didn’t have food with him, but neither had he erected a portable electric fence, as is standard procedure in Alaska’s backcountry, to protect himself. “It was my error,” he says. “The bear was just curious. I talked to it calmly in a loud voice, and it backed away. Yes, accidents happen. Bears can be dangerous. But they’re more scared of us than we should be of them.”

Bears are just one member of the animal kingdom you want to be prepared to see when you’re spending time in our national parks, which protect the most dramatic landscapes—and the most abundant, diverse, and dangerous animals—in North America. This country’s park system boasts giant reptiles in the south, big grizzlies up north, and stealthy cats in between.

These are nine of the most dangerous animals in our national parks and the best ways to stay safe while visiting their homes. These animals are amazing, and we need to respect them. When we work to keep ourselves safe, we’re actually keeping the wildlife safe too, because when humans screw up, it’s the animals that ultimately suffer.

Alligators and Crocodiles

Found: in Everglades National Park, coastal park units in Georgia and South Carolina, and throughout Gulf Coast states.

After appearing on the endangered-species list as recently as the 1980s, alligators have bounded back, and are now more than a million strong in Florida alone. The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission notes that there have been 442 unprovoked attacks, including two dozen deaths, between 1948 and 2021. In the last decade, there have been an average of 10 alligator attacks a year, but according to the only 4 percent are fatal.

Still, their size is intimidating—adults can be 12 feet long and 500 pounds—and their jaws are loaded with 80 teeth, able to bite down with awesome force. And they look like dinosaurs. So yeah, terrifying.

But your chances of survival are good if you run into an alligator in Everglades National Park, where an estimated 200,000 are living and hunting in the rivers and wetlands. In fact, a couple of recent survival stories from the Everglades serve as cautionary yet encouraging tales.

In the fall of 2022, a man survived three days in the swamp after losing his arm to an alligator in Lake Manatee, north of the park. In 2020, a college student was bitten by an alligator near the Pahayokee Trail inside Everglades Park after swimming in a stagnant swamp with thick vegetation—prime gator habitat. She escaped with two puncture wounds and took herself to the hospital.

Staying safe in gator country is pretty straightforward, according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. Don’t feed them and don’t swim in alligator habitat. The animals prefer slow-moving rivers and still swamps and ponds, preying on fish, frogs, and small animals. They typically feed at night, but are active during the day as well.Ěý If you’re on land and a gator charges you, run as fast as you can. If you’re bitten, fight back, aiming for the gator’s eyes. If that fails, try to jam an object down its throat to induce a gag reflex.

In the Everglades, you also have the potential to run into an American crocodile, a saltwater-living species that can be found in the park’s coastal waters. Crocodiles and alligators look similar (the croc snout is more pointed than a gator’s) and behave similarly. There are far fewer crocs than gators—the park only has an estimated 2,000 of them)—but the Everglades is the only place in America where you’ll find both species. Safety wise, the advice is the same: don’t feed them, don’t swim in their habitat, and if one charges you, run like hell.Ěý

Mountain Lions

Found: in national parks from California to Texas, essentially all those in the American West, including Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado; North Cascades National Park, Mount Rainier National Park, and Olympic National Park, Washington; Lassen Volcanic National Park, Sequoia National Park, and Yosemite National Park, California; Yellowstone National Park, in Wyoming, Montana and Idaho; and Everglades National Park, Florida.

Panther, cougar, mountain lions…these are all different names for the same beautiful, big cat that mainly prowls the mountains and deserts of the Western U.S. There was a time when mountain lions roamed every state, but after overzealous hunting and habitat loss, they’re relegated to 14 western states and a small population in Florida. Still they enjoy an almost mythical “boogeyman” status.

“I think big cats get to something deep down in our ape DNA, triggering an instinctual fear response,” says Josh Rosenau, conservation associate with the Mountain Lion Foundation.

Tales of mountain lion encounters haunt our national park system, from the 10-year-old boy who was killed in Rocky Mountain National Park in 1997 to the trail runner who was attacked in the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area in September 2022.

Still, there have only been 24 human fatalities from lions in the last 100 years, far fewer than the majority of other animals on this list.

“These cats are so elusive, and try so hard to avoid people, that a hiker would be lucky to even see a single mountain lion once in their entire life, let alone have a scary encounter,” Rosenau says.

When attacks occur, he adds, it’s usually because a hiker surprises a cat that’s hiding close to a trail. The best avoidance is to hike in groups, and try to keep your dogs and children close to the group if possible. Most of all, talk to each other while you hike. “Human voices are an effective deterrent,” Rosenau says. “One researcher even found that playing talk radio near livestock kept cats away.” (Read a story about someone who found success with Metallica to deter a mountain lion.)

If you encounter a mountain lion in the wild, don’t run. That just triggers their chase gene. Instead, stand tall, maintain eye contact, and let the animal know you’re willing to defend yourself. Make yourself big, wave your hands, and make noise.

“On the rare occasion that a mountain lion attacks, you usually only have to scream at it,” Rosenau says, “and it flees.”

Great White and Tiger Sharks

Great Whites found: in Channel Islands National Park, Point Reyes National Park…basically any park in California that touches the Pacific, also Cape Cod National Seashore, and Acadia National Park

Tiger Sharks Found: in Biscayne National Park, Dry Tortugas National Park, and in the waters surrounding Hawaii’s national parks.

Last winter, a swimmer was snorkeling off the coast of Dry Tortugas National Park, a cluster of protected islands south of the Florida Keys, when a six-foot lemon shark attacked, biting her left foot. The shark tugged at her leg and she reacted immediately, kicking at its face with her good leg, then punching it in the face with her fists until she broke free and swam to shore. This is the way most shark attacks go, according to Gavin Naylor, director of the International Shark Attack Report, which gathers and studies incidents from all over the world.

“Most shark attacks are quick. A shark bites an ankle or arm, doesn’t like what it’s bitten, and moves on,” Naylor says, adding that statistically speaking, you’re most likely to be bitten by a requiem shark, a classification that include blacktip and lemon sharks—both of which are commonly found near beaches. But great-white and tiger-shark bites are more likely to be fatal, simply because of the size of the animals.

“Tiger sharks are huge, like 1,000 pounds, so a bite can remove a limb,” Taylor says. “They also tend to stick around after a bite, circling.”

As for white sharks, they’re often twice as big. “They’re so explosive, coming up from below,” he says. “It’s unlikely you could be stitched up after a white shark attack.”

In terms of the ratio of fatality per attack, the white shark is the king, according to multiple sources.

White sharks are fond of cold waters and can be found off the coast of California and New England, though they’ve been recorded in the warmer waters around Florida, too. Tiger sharks stick to warmer temps and are common around Hawaii and Florida. Safety measures are mostly common sense—don’t swim alone, try not to swim at twilight hours, avoid water where people are actively fishing, and don’t swim with an open wound.

Taylor insists that shark attacks be put in context. There were only 57 attacks confirmed worldwide last year; Florida had the most, with 16 attacks in 2022, mainly because of an abundance of opportunity.

“Florida has a lot of beaches, with a lot of tourists, and it’s warm all year,” Naylor says. “But sharks aren’t dangerous at all, really. You’re between 100 and 200 times more likely to drown than be bitten by a shark.”

Grizzly Bears, aka Brown Bears

Found: throughout Alaska including in Katmai National Park, Kenai Fjords National Park, Glacier Bay National Park, Denali National Park, Kobuk Valley National Park, Wrangell-St. Elias, and Lake Clark National Park; in the lower 48, Glacier National Park and Yellowstone National Park have populations.

Alaska’s Katmai National Park is ground zero for brown bears. The park was actually established in 1918 to protect the species and now boasts 2,000 of them, the largest population in the United States. Katmai is also home to the very popular Brooks Falls webcam, where you can watch grizzlies fishing for salmon from the comfort of your home.

Alaska is the only state that supports all three species of bear, and it sees the most bear attacks in the U.S. Probably the most famous happened in Katmai National Park, when Timothy Treadwell, a filmmaker who made a name for himself by interacting with the species in uncomfortable ways, and his girlfriend, Amie Huguenard, were attacked and killed while sleeping in a tent in 2003.

In the lower 48, Yellowstone has its own population, with an estimated 150 brown bears living inside its borders. According to Yellowstone’s , only 44 people have been injured inside the park out of 118 million visits since 1979. The park says venturing into the backcountry increases your risk of grizzly attack, with 1 in 232,613 backcountry hikers attacked as opposed to 1 in 59.5 million visitors in the front-country developed areas.

Since 1872, when the park was established, only eight people have been killed by grizzlies inside the park. Compare that to the park’s 125 drowning victims, 23 deaths from falling into hot springs, or seven killed by falling trees. The last death inside the park was in August 2015 when a solo day hiker was killed by an adult female grizzly with two cubs near Elephant Back Loop Trail.

In July 2021, a 65-year-old cyclist, Leah Lokan, was killed by a grizzly while camping in the small town of Ovando, Montana, near Flathead National Forest. While Lokan was an experienced outdoors person and armed herself with bear spray and removed the most obvious sources of food smell from her tent, something can be learned from the accident (which did not occur in a national park). She was awakened early in the morning by a 400-pound grizzly sniffing around her tent. She yelled, “Bear!” to warn two other cyclists who were also camping, and the grizzly fled.

Lokan removed food from her tent and re-entered it. The bear returned an hour later, killing her. According to a of the incident by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, bags that once contained dried blueberries were found inside the tent and retained some aroma, and food had been left inside saddlebags on her bike, which was roughly 10 feet away. Wildlife officials determined the bear had developed a “predatory instinct” that was likely triggered by the food in the bike bags as well as the lingering smell of food cooked at a picnic during the day. The main mistake, according to wildlife officials, was returning to the tent after the first bear encounter.

The National Park Service recommends a handful of clear practices to stay safe in bear country. One is never to hike alone. Instead, hike in groups of three or more, and talk during your hike. That alone gives you the best chance of avoiding a grizzly encounter in the wild. Carry bear spray, never leave your pack unattended (bears that find human food in packs can get habituated to it and become problem bears in the future), and stay on maintained trails.

Research in Yellowstone suggests people are more likely to encounter bears when off-trail. But the golden rule of traveling in bear country is to store food, and anything that smells like food, away from your tent. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, you should cook and store food at least 100 yards from your tent if possible.

“We want to prevent bears from associating humans as a food source, so food storage while hiking and camping is very important,” says Leslie Skora, a wildlife biologist with Katmai National Park, in an email. “It’s a good idea to store all scented items in a bear-resistant container while camping. Other precautions while camping are to keep a separate cooking area away from the sleeping area. Electric fences are another option to help deter bears from investigating camps.”

Mojave Rattlesnakes

Found: in national parks in California; Death Valley, Nevada; Big Bend National Park, Texas; Grand Canyon and Saguaro national parks, Arizona; and Carlsbad Caverns National Park, and other New Mexico parks.

We have a lot of rattlesnakes in North America. There are more than 20 differentĚý species found in so many states across the country, it’s easier to list those that have none: Alaska, Hawaii, Maine, and Rhode Island, though they are rare and endangered in a number of others.

While the Mojave rattler is found in the parks many western national parks parks, other rattlesnake species are found in parks including Shenandoah, Great Smoky Mountains, Everglades, Badlands, Theodore Roosevelt, Yellowstone (but not Glacier), Great Basin, Zion, and Rocky Mountain.

The variety of rattlesnakes in the U.S. is vast, from the Eastern Diamondback, which loves the long pine forests of the Southeast and can be found in parks throughout the region, from the Everglades to Cumberland Island National Seashore, to the sidewinder, found in the deserts of the Southwest. Rattlers look to be one of the few species poised to handle our changing climate. According to a recent by Cal Poly San Luis Obispo and the University of Michigan, the seven species of rattlesnakes found in California are set to experience population growth thanks to climate change; the warmer climate will make it easier for the snakes to reach optimal internal temperatures for eating and reproducing, and to stay active through more of the year. Awesome.

Given the numbers of rattlers in the wild, encounters are inevitable (read about one here). According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, roughly 8,000 people are bitten by venomous snakes (including rattlers) annually, with 10 to 15 deaths per year.

In 2020, were recorded in Yosemite National Park within the span of three days, and both required helicopter evacuations. The most dramatic involved a backpacker who was bitten while fishing barefoot in the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne River. The man and his wife tried hiking out together, but he was unable. She pinned his location on her phone and hiked through most of the night until she found another backpacker, who had a satellite device and called for a rescue. The bite victim was helicoptered to a nearby hospital, given two doses of antivenom, and discharged.

Fortunately for that backpacker, Yosemite is home to only one kind of rattlesnake, the Northern Pacific rattler, a relatively mild species, especially compared to the Mojave rattlesnake, which is considered the most deadly snake in North America, with venom as toxic as a cobra’s. A bite from a Mojave rattlesnake can cause breathing problems, blurred vision, weakness, and even cardiac arrest.

“They’re 10 times more venomous than any other rattlesnake,” says Jason Wallace, program director for the Desert Studies Center, just outside of the Mojave National Preserve, San Bernardino County, California, which has a thriving population of Mojave rattlers. “It actually has two types of venom; one messes with your nervous system and respiratory system, and the other destroys tissue cells.”

There are legends about aggressive Mojave rattlesnakes, with stories of people being chased by them, but Wallace calls that folklore. “They’ll get aggressive if you corner them, but they don’t want to mess with you. Usually, you won’t even see them because they’re nocturnal, and they hide when they feel the vibrations from your feet.”

To avoid a rattlesnake, try to be aware of your surroundings. Wear thick hiking boots and long pants and watch where you put your hands and feet. Use trekking poles and always zip tents up. If you are bitten, stay calm and forget everything you’ve ever heard about snake bites. Do not apply a tourniquet, do not try to suck the venom out, and don’t bother with a rattlesnake kit. “It’s a fun souvenir, but worthless,” Wallace says.

Instead, call for help from the site if you can. Getting a picture of the snake will help the doctors determine the course of action. Walk calmly toward your car if it’s nearby. Wash the site with soap and water if possible and remove any jewelry, because your extremities are likely to swell. The key, according to Wallace, is not to panic. “Freaking out moves the venom through your system faster. Keep in mind that getting bit by a rattlesnake is not a death sentence. There’s antivenom out there.”

Polar Bears

Found: in Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, Alaska. Polar bears have also been known to roam into the Bering Land Bridge National Preserve and Cape Krusenstern National Monument.

Polar bears thrive in the frigid, wet conditions that most humans avoid, living in the coldest coastal parts of Canada, Greenland, Norway, Russia, and the United States. They’re great swimmers, clocking sustained speeds of 6 miles per hour in the water, and spend most of their time hanging out on ice sheets hunting for seals.

Polar-bear attacks on humans are rare: according to between 1870 and 2014 there were 73 confirmed polar-bear attacks on people. That’s a low number, but attacks seem to be increasing in frequency, according to research performed by Polar Bears International. Scientists believe it might be the result of climate change and melting sea ice, forcing bears beyond their typical territory in search of food.

This past January saw the first reported human death by a polar bear in 30 years, when one charged through a small village on the tip of the Seward Peninsula in western Alaska and killed a woman and her child.

The polar bear is the top predator in the arctic, weighing in at 2,000 pounds, with 42 razor-sharp teeth and a top land speed of 25 miles per hour. Michael Wald, owner of a guide service leading trips through the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, told us in an email that the best defense is avoidance. “We almost never see them on our guided camping trips and work to make sure we are not in areas where they are likely to be,” he wrote. “In particular, we avoid camping on the Arctic Coast in August, when there tend to be lots of polar bears” hunting seals, in preparation for winter.

Still, Wald likes seeing polar bears in the wild as much as anyone. “They are beautiful animals and their power is evident. Even seeing polar-bear tracks is thrilling.”

While avoidance is the best tactic, if you are traveling along the coast of the Arctic Wildlife Refuge, the recommends developing a safety plan that includes 24-hour bear monitoring (continually scoping your intended terrain), and carrying bear-resistant storage containers, binoculars, pepper spray, noise makers, and electric fences. Camp at least a mile inland to reduce potential for contact. Travel in groups, have a designated bear spotter, and have specific plans for encountering bears at different distances. Sleeping in shifts is a good idea, too.

“If you understand and respect bears, you can avoid most problems with them,” Wald says. “Don’t invade their space and surprise them, and don’t give them a reason to be curious about you or your camp. Peaceful coexistence is achievable.”

If you don’t run. Pull your bear spray out, remove the safety clip, and be patient. If the animal is unaware of you, wait until it’s safe to move. If the bear approaches you, defend yourself using your bear deterrent as soon as it’s in range (within 25 feet). If that fails, fight back, aiming your fists at the bear’s nose.

Box Jellyfish

Found: off the coast of Hawaii’s National Parks and occasionally the U.S. Virgin Islands National Park.

Getting stung by a jellyfish sucks. The burning sensation is immediate. Your friend offers to pee on your leg to make it better. This is a myth: urine may exacerbate the stinging.

But getting stung by a box jellyfish, as can happen in Hawaii’s parks and the U.S. Virgin Islands, is far worse. This particular species is different from other jellyfish in that they have eyes and can actively swim instead of floating with the currents. They also have tentacles up to nine feet long, which are covered with tiny poisonous darts that can cause paralysis and cardiac arrest in victims. In fact, the box jellyfish is the most venomous marine animal on the planet.

Scientists can’t agree on the exact mechanism that causes the cardiac arrest, but the venom targets the nervous system, red-blood cells, and ultimately the heart. Still, deaths from box jellyfish are rare—only 79 have been reported since the late 1800s, when scientists began keeping records. Children are at the highest risk.

Fortunately, avoiding box jellyfish is pretty straightforward. They tend to appear close to Hawaii’s coastline 10 days after a full moon each month, and safety officials issue regular public warnings. Stay out of the water during these times and you should be fine. If you do get stung by a box jelly and are having a severe reaction, go immediately to the emergency room. Treatment could include CPR and antivenom. Milder stings can be soaked in warm water to ease the pain.

Black Bears

Found: in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, North Carolina and Tennessee; Shenandoah National Park, Virginia; Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho; Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming; Glacier National Park, Montana; Mount Rainier National Park, Washington; Big Bend National Park, Texas; Denali National Park, Alaska; Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado; Voyageurs National Park, Minnesota; Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks, Lassen Volcanic National Park, Redwood National Park, and Yosemite, California. There are a few in Acadia, Maine. Really, they are in just about every mountainous park with trees.

Grizzly bears might be the scariest species of bear in the lower 48, but you’re more likely to encounter a black bear, because they are so prevalent. An estimated 750,000 black bears live in the forests of 32 states, stretching from Florida into Canada, and coast to coast. An estimated 1,900 bears live in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, which works out to two bears per square mile.

Black bears are no pushovers. They can grow up to six feet long, and weigh between 200 and 600 pounds. There were 48 fatal bear attacks in North America between 2000 and 2017, and black bears were responsible for 25. They eat whatever they can find, mostly berries and nuts, but will chow down on insects and small animals, too. They have a keen sense of smell, can climb trees, and are easily addicted to cocaine (just ).

Bear encounters are rare inside the parks, usually non-fatal, and occasionally comedic. In 2019, a bear was caught on camera sitting in a hot tub on a cabin’s porch in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, on the Great Smoky Mountains park border.

But in a serious encounter last June, a family of five was camping in Elkmont Campground, when a bear tore into their tent at 5 A.M., attacking a three-year-old girl and her mother. The bear was large—around 350 pounds—which park biologists believe suggests it had regular access to non-natural food sources. Rangers think the bear was attracted to food smells in the campground, particularly dog food left out at the site.

The father was able to scare the bear from the tent, and the victims suffered superficial lacerations to their heads. Rangers closed the campground, set traps, and the area. A male bear was captured and euthanized, which leads us back to what I said earlier on: most of the time human-wildlife encounters end up worse for the animal.

The number-one rule with black bears: don’t feed them. A subset of that rule is to secure your food if you’re camping in bear country. That means storing all your food and anything that smells like food in your car if you’re in the frontcountry, and using a bear-proof container in the backcountry. Black bears have the best sense of smell of any land animal in the U.S., so that toothpaste container or half-eaten protein bar in your pack, tucked into the corner of your tent, smells delicious.

If you on the trail, keep your distance. Black bears mostly attack when feeling defensive. If the bear charges, stand your ground. Do not run, as bears love a chase and are faster than you. Make yourself big and loud. Throw rocks if the bear persists. When the bear is within 20 yards, discharge your bear spray. If that doesn’t work, and the bear attacks, fight back. Aim for the nose, and punch like crazy.

Graham Averill is şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř’s national park’s columnist. He’s typically too loud a hiker to encounter wildlife on the trail, but does see quite a few black bears while biking gravel roads in Pisgah National Forest near the Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina. His healthy fear of sharks would keep him out of the ocean if he didn’t love surfing so much.Ěý

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Illustrator and hand lettering artist Amber Share turns really bad reviews of national parks, monuments, and other public lands from Google, Yelp, and Tripadvisor into art. Share has a healthy following and sells , , and . We spoke with her to learn more about her illustrations and rounded up our ten favorite subpar park reviews.

OUTSIDE: Where did you get the idea for Subpar Parks?
SHARE: I was looking for a side project to continue to hone my illustration style and settled on drawing all of the national parks. It seemed like a nice way to make sure I challenged myself, with all of the different types of geography across the parks. But I wanted a way to stand out and offer something new because there are already so many wonderful collections of park illustrations, and I wanted to include my hand lettering. I hopped on Reddit one day, and happened to see a post in the national park subreddit where someone had posted a few one-star reviews they had seen online, and it was kind of a lightning-bolt moment.

Where do you find the bad reviews?
A variety of places: Google, Yelp, Facebook, Tripadvisor, and occasionally, AllTrails.

What are some of your favorites?
It’s really hard to choose, but I love ones like , where the people were disappointed by something most people would be delighted about—having the park all to yourself. Or ones like (“trees and coast are mostly it”), where the description they offer isn’t technically wrong, but it’s the most reductive, dismissive way you could ever describe a place that’s so incredible.

What’s your favorite national park?
My personal favorite park is the Grand Canyon, because it’s so much more than initially meets the eye. I think a lot of people spend a few minutes along the rim and don’t get the full experience. It’s one of those parks that requires you to commit some time and energy to really appreciate and get a real feel for it.

Katmai National Park & Preserve

Yosemite National Park

Arches National Park

Shenandoah National Park

Bryce Canyon National Park

Hot Springs National Park

Yellowstone National Park

North Cascades National Park

White Sands National Park

Voyageurs National Park

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The pictures were at least 5,000 years old, maybe as old as 8,500. For millennia, since an unknown Native artist engraved them into a volcanic boulder, the collection of abstract geometric shapes had sat in this rocky valley on the outskirts of what’s now , the homelands of the Coahuiltecan, and , Jumanos, and Chisos people. In that time, they had endured rain, wind, and punishing desert sun.

What finally did them in was a tourist who wanted to leave a mark.

On December 26, the in the park’s Indian Head area, leaving bright white scratches crisscrossing the ancient rock art. While Park Service personnel moved quickly to repair the vandalism, as Tom VandenBerg, Big Bend’s chief of interpretation and visitor services, noted in a phone call, much of the damage is permanent. It was the latest example of visitors damaging ancient rock art—a scene that’s becoming all too common on public lands.

Last month’s incident is at least the 50th time someone has vandalized a petroglyph in Big Bend National Park since 2015, and it’s the latest in a string of high-profile defacements that have occurred on public lands throughout the United States. Last April, land managers near Moab announced that , an intricate piece of rock art that is popular with hikers. A month earlier, archaeologist Johannes Loubser discovered that someone had spray-painted and etched over a set of 3,000-year-old carvings at Track Rock Gap in northern Georgia, a culturally important and sacred site to the Creek and Cherokee people. The graffiti takes just a few minutes to do with a knife or a can of spray enamel. Removing it can take weeks—and some of the scars are irreversible.

“Once something is done, you’re never going to undo it completely. There are always going to be traces,” Loubser says. “Even restoration cannot bring something back. When you get out of [heart] surgery, is your heart as good as before?”

Loubser, who holds a PhD in archaeology, specializes in rock art. Over the past four decades, he’s worked on four continents, cataloging cave paintings in South Africa and working to conserve and manage culturally significant sites in Australia. As the founder of the archaeological consulting firm , Loubser contracts with federal and state government and private groups to preserve and repair Native rock art across the United States, surveying petroglyphs and remedying the modern-day damage done to them by tourists who are determined to leave a mark. In his own words, Loubser’s job is to create “chaos out of order and order out of chaos.” By removing vandals’ scratches and spray paint, he restores the natural, chaotic surface of the rock. Paradoxically, doing so allows the order of the original artists’ work to shine through.

While it would be easy to assume that the Covid-driven increase in outdoor recreation has led to more vandalism, Loubser and VandenBerg say the actual effect of the boom isn’t clear yet. Instead, rock art vandalism is better understood as a long-term trend, says Loubser, who has documented graffiti that’s more than a century old. Graffiti became commonplace in the 1910s, then declined in the 1960s (“people were really well-behaved”). In the 1990s, it began to swell again, with graffiti representing “a variety of nationalities and language groups,” Loubser says, and it hasn’t abated since then. The content has occasionally changed over the years: on a recent job along the Columbia River in Washington, Loubser found himself removing political slogans from the rock.

When vandalism does occur, he says, . Not just for the beauty or significance of the marred art, but for the message it sends to future visitors.

“I hate to say this, but that first person [to vandalize a piece of rock art] takes a bit of initiative,” he says. “Once there’s graffiti, the next people who come along, it’s easier to do.” Keeping sites neat and clean sends a message to everyone who encounters it that “this place is important.”

How Loubser and his collaborators treat vandalized rock art depends on a variety of factors. First of all, there’s the original art they’re restoring. Boldly sculpted or painted pictographs and petroglyphs are easier to work around, while fine-lined carvings demand a bit more caution. Then there’s the nature of the vandalism. Simple drawings with charcoal or chalk may only need to be lightly brushed off; more stubborn, wet-applied charcoal may require a toothbrush or even a steel brush if it’s older. They often abrade off spray paint and incised graffiti with a sandblaster, or they’ll grind it off with a wire brush mounted on a drill, sometimes filling in the leftover marks with pigment that’s been laboratory-matched to the color of the stone. Which techniques they use are informed by consultation with land managers and local tribes, which often have a cultural or spiritual stake in the site.

Sometimes, well-meaning amateurs try to clean up the graffiti themselves. The results often make matters even worse, as happened in Big Bend. When Lin Pruitt, a National Park Service archaeological technician, and Thomas Alex, a retired archaeologist for the agency, visited the site two days after the vandalism was first reported, they found that a visitor had attempted to “treat” the graffiti with the water from their bottle. The chlorine in the tap water had reacted with the stone’s natural patina to form a white stain, further discoloring the panel.

The two set to work, removing the remains of the graffiti and the white stain by spraying it down with distilled water and daubing it off. On a second visit a few days later, the duo used a soft-bristled brush to further loosen the stain. When they were done, the petroglyphs were almost back to their original state—almost. A close look would reveal faint scratches and the remnants of the new stain.

That’s the trouble with removing graffiti from rock art after the fact: no matter how careful or skilled the personnel, traces always remain. This is why preventing vandalism in the first place is so crucial, Loubser says. In some well-trafficked, well-funded areas, land managers might put motion-detecting cameras in place to catch vandals in the act and hold them legally accountable or appoint volunteer stewards to deter people who mean to mar the art. In most places, however, the best and only feasible solution is to make sure visitors understand the importance of what they’re looking at.

“There is no direct relationship between the amount of people who visit a place and the graffiti damage,” Loubser says. “I would say it’s more the kind of people and the management context. If people are backpackers and they’re informed, they’re not going to do it. There could be thousands of them, and they’ll leave the site clean. But ill-informed people and people who are not educated, who don’t realize what rock petroglyphs and pictographs are and that they’re special to Native Americans, they act inappropriately.” In his experience, Loubser says, when those same people learn the immense significance of these ancient carvings and drawings, they often begin to treat them with more respect.

VandenBerg, for his part, has his doubts that whoever defaced the petroglyphs in Big Bend—rangers have appealed to the public for help identifying them—did so out of ignorance. He points out that there’s abundant signage around the area informing visitors about the petroglyphs and the penalties for harming them. There’s one thing, however, that he knows for sure: their actions cost Big Bend something “priceless.”

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