Anyone who has been in my house since 2015 has seen the photograph. It hangs in a place of honor — a swirl of red sandstone, light pouring through a narrow opening, shadows curling like ribbons. I took it in Antelope Canyon on a trip with my son Jeremy, and it remains one of my favorite images I’ve ever captured.
That picture is the reason I keep coming back to Page, Arizona.
Page is the jumping‑off point for some of the most extraordinary slot canyons in the world — narrow, sculpted passageways carved by water and time. The colors, the patterns, the silence, the mystery… they get under your skin. They stay with you. This year, Page was my birthday present to myself.
Last year around this time, I was in Sedona: The Red Rocks of Sedona –
And Taos: Taos and the Pueblos –
Not long after leaving Prescott Valley and crossing through Flagstaff, I felt the landscape shift. The greens and browns of central Arizona gave way to the deep reds and sculpted shapes that signal you’re entering canyon country. I stopped several times along the way to take pictures. It reminded me of photographing the ocean — each view technically similar, yet each one feeling unique in your eye.
By the time I arrived in Page on Saturday evening, I was already in that familiar state of awe.
I set up a minimal campsite and spent Sunday — my birthday — relaxing. I took calls and texts from family and friends, made myself a seafood dinner, and even baked a soda‑pop cake in my RV convection oven. (Twelve ounces of Orange Crush + one cake mix + a Bundt pan sprayed with Baker’s Joy = RV magic.) It was simple, sweet, and perfect.
Slot canyons like Antelope, Secret Canyon, and the lower canyons around Page are formed by flash floods cutting through soft Navajo sandstone. Over millions of years, water carved these deep, narrow corridors — sometimes only a few feet wide — leaving behind:
- smooth, flowing walls
- striations that look like brushstrokes
- curves shaped by swirling debris
- colors that shift from gold to red to purple depending on the light
The Navajo sandstone itself is ancient — about 190 million years old, formed from windblown dunes that hardened into rock. When sunlight filters into the canyon, it bounces off the walls, creating that glowing, otherworldly effect photographers dream about. That’s the whole geology lesson. No quizzes.
On Monday, I toured Secret Canyon and Horseshoe Bend. Years ago, Jeremy and I visited Upper Antelope Canyon, back when they still offered dedicated photo tours. Those tours are gone now — the canyon has become too popular — so this year I chose something different.
Secret Canyon is on Navajo land, and the tour company I used offers a private entrance with far fewer people. Safari‑style trucks take you almost right to the canyon entrance, and the walk is short — about a quarter mile. It’s different from Upper Antelope: a little sunnier, fewer deep purples, but still breathtaking in its own way.
The guide was wonderful, stopping often so we could capture the views. The walls twist and curl like frozen waves. Light filters down in soft beams. Every turn reveals a new shape, a new color, a new moment of wonder. It was the perfect birthday gift.
From Secret Canyon, the tour continued to a private viewpoint of Horseshoe Bend. The public overlook requires a three‑quarter‑mile walk downhill — which means a three‑quarter‑mile walk back uphill — and I knew I didn’t have that in me this year.
The private viewpoint was a blessing. The walk was short, the view was spectacular, and honestly, it might have been better than the public one. Standing there, looking down at the Colorado River looping around the sandstone, I felt a sense of completion. A moment I’d missed years ago had finally found its way back to me. If you ever visit Page, I highly recommend Antelope Canyon Tours. They were exceptional.
The next day, I took an afternoon boat ride into the base of Lower Antelope Canyon. The canyon walls rise nearly a thousand feet above the water. The surface was smooth and glassy, reflecting the reds and golds of the rock like a mirror.
There’s a spot where kayakers paddle up the canyon, beach their kayaks, walk into the lower section of Antelope Canyon from the bottom, then paddle back out. The photo of their brightly colored kayaks lined up on the sand was one of my favorites from the entire trip. I met some wonderful people on the tour, and we all agreed it was one of the best ways to experience the canyon.
I spent the next few days driving around the area, taking pictures and waiting for the right sunset. I didn’t attempt the mile‑and‑a‑half walk to the public Horseshoe Bend overlook — the sun angle wasn’t ideal this time of year anyway — so instead, I went to Wahweap Overlook.
From there, you get sweeping views of Lake Powell, the buttes and mesas in the distance, and the mountains to the west. The sunset was soft and golden, the kind that settles into your memory rather than shouting for attention.
I also stopped by Glen Canyon Dam, capturing the deep blue water and the sheer walls of the canyon before heading back to camp. It was a quiet, satisfying end to my time in Page.
Page is a young town by Western standards. It was founded in the 1950s as a housing community for workers building Glen Canyon Dam. The dam created Lake Powell, which flooded much of Glen Canyon but also opened the region to tourism.
Driving around Page is where I finally understood that “Arizona Time” isn’t a time zone so much as a practical joke the universe plays on travelers. Page itself stays on good old Mountain Standard Time all year, but the moment you drive ten minutes toward Antelope Canyon or the dam, your phone panics and jumps an hour ahead because you’ve crossed into the Navajo Nation, which does observe Daylight Saving Time. Keep going and you might slip briefly into the Hopi Reservation—an island of land inside Navajo territory—where the clocks snap back again because Hopi doesn’t do DST either. So in the span of a single scenic drive, my dashboard clock, my phone, and my watch all disagreed with each other, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. In that part of Arizona, time isn’t a number; it’s a suggestion.
The Navajo Nation surrounds Page on three sides, and many of the slot canyon tours are run by Navajo families who have lived on this land for generations. Their stewardship is a big part of why these canyons remain protected and accessible. It’s a place where history, nature, and tourism intersect in a way that feels uniquely Southwestern.