Canyon de Chelly National Monument: Arizona’s Hidden Gem

Touring the North Rim

The Fourth of July greeted us with clear blue skies and temperatures in the mid-70s—a photographer’s dream. Since you cannot enter the canyon without a Navajo guide, we headed out along the North Rim Road, stopping at one overlook after another. Everywhere we looked, the canyon seemed to reveal another layer of towering sandstone cliffs, hidden ruins, and sweeping views. The perfect weather made for spectacular photography, as you can see in the video below.

We quickly discovered that spotting the cliff dwellings took a little practice. A good pair of binoculars would have helped, but after a while, we got pretty good at finding the tiny openings tucked into the canyon walls. Once we knew what to look for, we started spotting them everywhere—and our camera lenses helped us zoom in for a closer look.

Then we reached Massacre Cave Overlook, where the mood changed completely. The overlook marks the site of a tragic 1805 massacre. Spanish soldiers cornered 115 Navajo, most of them women and children, inside the cave and killed them. Standing above the canyon and looking into that quiet, beautiful landscape made the story especially haunting.

At Mummy Cave Overlook, the mood lifted as we took in one of the canyon’s most impressive ancient villages. Perched 300 feet above the canyon floor, the village contains nearly 70 rooms. From our vantage point, the ruins looked almost impossibly small against the enormous sandstone walls—a reminder of just how long people have called this canyon home.

Touring the South Rim

That afternoon, we headed to the South Rim Drive, where one spectacular overlook followed another. At one of the stops, we met Native American flutist D’Von Charley and spent some time chatting with him. We quickly discovered that his music captured the spirit of the canyon perfectly.

D’Von told us that he records his music right here in Canyon de Chelly. The canyon itself supplies every natural sound you hear in his recordings—wind, birds, and the subtle echoes that make the canyon come alive. He doesn’t add artificial effects or studio sounds. Instead, he lets the canyon provide the entire backdrop.

We enjoyed his music so much that we chose one of his recordings as the soundtrack for the second half of our video. His haunting flute melodies combined with the natural sounds of the canyon created the perfect soundtrack for the afternoon.

If you’d like to hear more of D’Von Charley’s music, you can find his recordings on YouTube.

Storm Clouds Building

We still had a few more overlooks to explore, including two of Canyon de Chelly’s most famous sights: Spider Rock and the White House Ruins. The White House Trail offers the only way to hike into the canyon without a guide, and we couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

By 5:00 p.m., storm clouds had gathered after building all afternoon. Mother Nature had answered our monsoon prayers, and the dramatic clouds gave us some amazing photo opportunities.

Then we faced a dilemma: Should we hike down to the ruins?

We checked the weather radar on our phones. Storms sat about 40 miles to the east and 25 miles to the west, and both systems moved away from us. Nothing threatened the canyon, so we decided to go for it.

The trail stretched 2½ miles round trip, and about half of it hugged the canyon wall, twisting and winding along the cliff face. My immense fear of heights immediately went head-to-head with my desire to see the ruins up close. The ruins won.

Off we went—one careful step at a time, with me doing my best not to look over the edge. The trail tested my nerves, but the incredible views kept pulling us forward. We finally reached the White House Ruins around 6:15 p.m., and suddenly every nervous step had been worth it.

White House Ruins

The White House Ruins took our breath away. How did the ancient builders climb up there and how did they build an entire village on that cliff? How many people lived there? We had so many questions and no easy answers.

We kept shooting, trying to capture the perfect exposure, when it happened—a single drop of rain landed on my lens. Surely, just a stray drop. Then its relatives arrived. And their relatives. Within minutes, a full-blown deluge rolled in, complete with thunder and lightning.

We scrambled for cover in the restrooms and hoped the storm would pass. Fifteen minutes later, the rain showed no signs of letting up. I stepped outside for a quick look and immediately felt that sinking feeling: this storm planned to stick around.

This definitely wasn’t the kind of monsoon storm I had hoped for!

With darkness less than two hours away and a 1½-hour hike back to the rim, we knew we had to leave. We didn’t want to find ourselves at the bottom of a canyon during a monsoon storm. Flash floods can turn a beautiful canyon into a dangerous place in minutes. We also didn’t want to get caught on that cliffside trail after dark.

We packed up our cameras and started the long climb back out, hoping we had made the right call and wondering what the storm had in store for us on the way up.

The hike out of the canyon

We stuffed our cameras under our shirts, said several prayers, took a deep breath, and stepped into the torrential rain.

Almost immediately, we spotted a tour vehicle coming down the wash. We waved frantically, hoping the driver would stop and give us a ride. They just smiled, waved back, and kept going. Nice.

With our hopes dashed, we turned back toward the trail. The first half-mile climbed through dirt and loose rock. The rain had already saturated the ground, turning the trail into a muddy, slippery mess and slowing us to a crawl. Every step demanded our full attention.

We finally reached the small tunnel at the bottom of the cliff face, only to discover a roaring river running beside it. An hour earlier, that same spot sat bone dry. Definitely not a good sign.

Still, we pushed through the tunnel and stepped outside to assess the situation. When we looked up at the trail and its 700-foot climb to the rim, our hearts sank. Waterfalls poured over the top of the cliffs, sending torrents of water directly onto the trail. Everywhere else, the trail had turned into a river. At that moment, getting out safely seemed far from certain.

I imagined one of those waterfalls sweeping us right off the trail and into the canyon below. Then my mind went to an even darker possibility: maybe lightning would strike us and end the ordeal quickly. We pushed those thoughts aside and kept moving.

Step by step, we climbed higher, never looking down. We held our breath as we edged beneath the waterfalls, hugged the cliff, and carefully placed each foot on the slick trail. Every few steps brought another rush of water, another obstacle, and another moment when I wondered if we had made a terrible mistake.

By the grace of God, some wonderful angels watching over us, and my #1 angel, Pete, we finally reached the top. There stood our car. We gave Big Red a quick hug, jumped inside, and sat there for ten minutes, catching our breath and letting the adrenaline drain away. We had made it.

Back at the hotel, we watched the storm continue to pound Canyon de Chelly. The storm stayed over the canyon all night and into the next morning.

Looking back, we knew without a doubt that we had made the right decision to get out when we did.We feel incredibly grateful to sit here today, share this story, and continue doing what we love. That storm gave us a powerful reminder of how quickly nature can change and how small we really are when we stand beneath those towering canyon walls.

We entered Canyon de Chelly hoping to capture beautiful photographs and we left with something far more valuable: a story we will never forget.

I’d like to leave you with one last thought…