Why the western U.S. state, with its dark skies and out-of-this-world landscapes, is the ultimate astrotourism destination.
By Dominique Lamberton
“Everyone, let’s give the sky a big thumbs-up,” our astronomy guide, Zoie Brooks, shouts under a dark, cloudless expanse beaming with an infinite number of celestial objects. The group of us gathered around her obliges, enthusiastically extending our arms above our heads. “How many galaxies are under your thumb right now?” Zoie waits a beat before projecting the answer into her portable voice amplifier: “Ten million galaxies! Each galaxy has billions to trillions of stars, and most stars, scientists predict, have planets around them.”
Gasps of astonishments ripple through the crowd, not for the first time this evening. “Okay, I’m giving the sky a round of applause,” utters a fellow stargazer to no one in particular. There are about 20 of us here for Stargazing Zion’s two-hour tour, held as its observation site in a large field a 35-minute drive northwest of Springdale, Utah, the gateway to Zion National Park. We’ve just risen from our zero-gravity beanbag chairs, each paired with a set of binoculars and a blanket, and we’re now huddled next to five state-of-the-art telescopes. Around us, Zion’s distinctive Navajo sandstone cliffs outline the horizon; above, it’s all stars, galaxies, planets, nebulae and globular clusters. Here, just beyond the western boundary of Zion, a certified International Dark Sky Park since 2021, the Sky Quality Meter-Lens (SQM-L) value hovers around 21.2 – perfect for brilliant visibility of stars and the Milky Way.
In Utah, exceptional night-sky conditions like these aren’t an anomaly: The state is a dark-sky mecca. Since 2007, when southeastern Utah’s Natural Bridges National Monument became the first-ever International Dark Sky Park certified by U.S.-based non-profit Dark Sky International, five more national monuments, nine state parks, all five national parks, one country park and five Dark Sky Communities in the state have followed. Today, there are 26 International Dark Sky Places in Utah, the highest concentration anywhere on the planet. This makes the state the ideal destination for astrotourism: Drawn by phenomena such as eclipses and meteor showers, travelers are increasingly seeking out dark-sky destinations and activities. Utah’s southwestern corner is the backdrop to my own astrotourism adventure, away from the lights of any major city. (From Las Vegas, where I flew into, it’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Springdale, my first stop.) Given that some 80 percent of North Americans cannot see our galaxy, the Milky Way, from their homes due to light pollution, it’s no wonder there’s a pull to venture into the dark.
Stargazing Zion’s co-founder, astronomer Matthias Schmitt, knowns the power of this pull. In 2020, he moved from New York City to join the National Park Service as dark-sky coordinator at Cedar Breaks National Monument in southwestern Utah. “On one of my first nights here, I looked up and I didn’t recognize any constellations because there were so many stars,” he says. Born and raised in Germany, Matthias worked in finance in New York for more than a decade, before pivoting to producing a STEM-focused animated children’s TV show. His work on the program led him to visit Oregon for the total solar eclipse in 2017 – an experience that changed his life. “I went back to New York, became active in a astronomy club there, signed up for my master’s in astronomy and I’ve been traveling around the world to see eclipses ever since.”
Shortly after arriving in Utah, Matthias met local entrepreneurs Hannah Barry and Adam Freeman through the astronomy community in St. George, southern Utah’s largest city, located about an hour’s drive west from Springdale. In 2021, the three launched Stargazing Zion. Their tours, offered from March to November (and upon request during the winter months), allow guests to take in the night sky as astronomy guides share information about the immensity of the universe and point out constellations, such as Sagittarius and Lyra, explaining the ancient stories behind them. The guides also queue up telescopic views of celestial bodies, like Saturn (Matthias says they’ve had people burst into tears upon seeing planet and its rings) the Hercules Cluster (one of the brightest star clusters visible from the Northern Hemisphere and the spiral Whirlpool Galaxy. “We’ve created an entertainment scientific program that even a seven-year-old can understand,” says Matthias. “We want to give people a sense of awe.”
One such moment of awe occurs for me on my beanbag, when Zoie shows us how to spot the Andromeda Galaxy, our closest galactic neighbor. Zoie’s laser pointer projects a shimmering grean beam through the sky as she traces the “W” of Cassiopeia, then, from one of the constellation’s points, draws the laser toward a faint area by Andromeda’s belt. “If you look slightly above or the side of this, and focus with your peripheral vision, you’ll see an oval-shaped smudge – that is the Andromeda Galaxy.” She instructs us to pick up our binoculars, which will make it easier to find. Then, as we all begin to locate the galactic blotch: more gasps. “You are seeing a distant galaxy that is 2.5 million light years away from us,” says Zoie, “the farthest thing you can see with the naked eye.”
There are more astronomical objects – and moments of awe – waiting for me the next night. But first, there’s a full day’s light to utilize, and I’m up before dawn to catch the first shuttle bus into Zion National Park. As I walk toward a per-hike coffee in Springdale, the features that make this town an International Dark Sky Community are on display. Springdale received the designation in 2023, thanks to its effort in managing light pollution and preserving the night sky. Both homes and businesses use dark sky-compliant lighting (the streetlights cast a warm, downward glow), and even the pedestrians at this hour are mindful: A runner jogs by with a light just bright enough for them to see a few steps ahead.
A morning in Zion National Park reveals that southwestern Utah’s landscapes are an apt companion to its dark skies: The combination of the park’s lush river valley, imposing red cliffs and majestic slot canyons is otherworldly. I take the shuttle to the sixth stop, the Grotto, to walk a portion of the West Rim Trail toward Angels Landing, a 1,488-foot-tall rock formation that requires a permit to climb and rewards hikers with epic views of Zion Canyon. Then I board the shuttle again, riding to the last stop, Temple of Sinawava, and join the flocks of trekkers outfitted in waders and waterproof boots on the path that leads to the Narrows: a hike that steers you through the tightest section of the canyon, directly into the Virgin River. As I amble along the Riverside Walk, a mother mule deer and her fawn scamper across the water. But I don’t wade in with them, as I need to make it to my next location before sundown.
A 90-minute drive north lands me at Cedar Breaks National Monument, a 6,155-acre site (and a designated Dark Sky Park) that sits more than 10,000 feet above sea level. I’m glad I arrive well before nightfall, so I can lay my eyes on this geographical wonder: a mille-half-deep amphitheater filled with an endless sea of spires, arches and hoodoos carves into the red rock. If someone told me I’d just stepped onto another planet, I’d believe them.
A crowd of roughly 40 people has gathered here under another clear sky for tonight’s Dark Sky Tour – free public events that take place Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings from March to October. After a 30-minutes astronomy talk outside the visitor center, we follow a trail lined with red lights to Point Supreme Overlook, the monument’s main viewing deck (red light is a must for stargazing, since it doesn’t impede night vision like bright light does). There, Matthias is waiting for us – he is leading the stargazing portion of the evening – along with the staff and volunteers who are stationed next to the telescopes that have been set up.
Matthias kicks things off by pointing out a basic asterism: the Big Dipper. “Here’s the handle and here’s the bucket,” he says. “Find the two back stars of the bucket, connect them and point to Polaris, our North Star. “Polaris is 430 light years away, Matthias tells us, before providing some context: “The light that you still see from the sun into the horizon took about eight minutes to get here; the light from Saturn took about 72 minutes to get here; and the light you see from Polaris left there 430 years ago, barely after we invented the printing press.”
For Matthias, sharing knowledge about the night sky with the public is paramount, which is why, in addition to operating Stargazing Zion, he’s passionate about maintaining his role as dark-sky coordinator at Cedar Breaks. The challenge, he says, is to get people to connect with an environment that we are largely detached from: “How do you tell people about the stars, when we see one star every day, our sun, and we don’t really notice it? Inevitably, he’s found, when people take the time to contemplate the night sky, it leads to wonderment – and big questions. “The other night I did a tour and I talked about the immensity of the universe, and someone asked me, “What does it all mean?” I cannot tell you what it all means. I can explain it from a scientific perspective, but what it means is something that we must find and figure out for ourselves. What does it mean to you?”
The next night, at the world’s first DarkSky-certified resort, I ponder Matthias’ question. Under Canvas Lake Powell-Grand Staircase is located less than 10 miles from the Arizona border, a two-and-a-half-hour drive southeast of Cedar Breaks. In 2023, the luxury glamping outfit, which has 12 locations throughout the U.S., teamed up with DarkSky International to create the DarkSky Approved Lodging certification program. To qualify, properties must be within one of the organization’s designated parks or have a SQM-L reading of at least 21.2. And, among other requirements, the Milky Way must be visible to the naked eye.
The resort is the perfect place to land after spending a day exploring more of the region’s spellbinding topography. White Pocket, just south of the state line in Arizona’s Vermilion Cliffs National Monument, is a striking white- and red-colored sandstone environment, its fantastical rock formations sculpted by the elements over millions of years. The sandy, boulder-studded road that leads to this remote site requires a high-clearance four-wheel-drive vehicle, and navigating the road’s bumps and curves in the tour guide’s truck is what I imagine traversing the moon’s craters might feel like. That feeling grows tenfold when we finally arrive, and I wander White Pocket’s surface, admiring the cream and crimson layers that form supernatural swirling patterns in the sandstone.
I pull up to Under Canvas as the sun is dipping below the horizon and settle into my safari-like tent, equipped with a plush king bed, ensuite bathroom, wood stove and USB-powered lanterns. As far as astrotourism experiences go, this is a shining star. The resort offers a calendar of events, including astronomy talks and full-moon hikes, plus plenty of ways to take in the sky at your leisure, from peering into the on-site telescopes to observing the cosmos from your tent’s above-the-bed viewing window. After soaking up the last of the sun’s glow from my deck chair, I wander to the lobby tent, following footpaths illuminated by solar-powered lighting. I order a cosmic lemonade (purple, thanks to butterfly pea flower) and bring it to the yoga deck, away from the roaring firepits where guests are roasting marshmallows for s’mores.
Stretched out on the wooden platform, I took up at the sky, which, after two nights of stargazing, I’m feeling more familiar with and connected to. Right away I spot the Big Dipper, the Northern Cross and Teapot asterism within Sagittarius (my new favorite, since Zoie showed us that the Milky Way is the “steam” coming from its spout). I scan a bit longer with my naked eye before opening my newly downloaded SkySafari app, recommended by Matthias, which helps me pinpoint Saturn and a multitude of constellations. After a while, I set my phone down and simply reach my arm skyward, marveling at the unending galaxies that are right under my thumb.
3 More Stellar Dark-sky Places
Mont-Mégantic, Québec
With an observatory perched atop the 3,625-foot peak, the world’s first International Dark Sky Reserve is a destination for 50,000 amateur and professional stargazers every year. Located 145 miles from Montreal, visit in August to catch the Perséide meteor shower.
Arkaroola Wilderness Sanctuary, South Australia
This 236-square-mile conservation area in the Outback is home to six designated observatories and a variety of stargazing experiences, including the Ridgetop Sleepout, which allows aspiring astronomers to camp under the stars in a uniquely exposed and elevated location.
Pic du Midi, France
Rising more than 9,400 feet in the Pyrenees of southwest France, this peak is a famous for alpine skiing and mountaineering as it is for its dark skies. Take the cable car to the top to visit the observatory where you can be above the clouds and under the stars all at once.