ZION NATIONAL PARK — In search of the missing tourists.

Tourism is down here at Utah's crown jewel attraction, you know. Eighteen percent less than last summer so far. There are still what you'd call crowds at the lookouts, hikes and scenic overlooks, but not what they once were. And yet, the park hasn't changed. With its jutting mountain peaks, rust-colored rocks and time-carved caverns and canyons, it is as spectacular as it ever was.

It must be something else.


Bent Lindhardt is sitting at the wheel of his new propane-powered United States Park Service tour bus. Sixty-two people can sit in the bus and adjoining trailer comfortably, and more than that can cram in if somebody wants to stand. The tour buses were implemented last summer when traffic got to be too much. More than 2.5 million visitors, most of them with a death-grip on their car keys, were descending on Zion and its wonders every year. Zion Canyon got to looking like Wal-Mart on the weekend before Christmas. So out went the cars and in came the tour buses.

And now, they're looking at, what, maybe 2.1 million visitors this year?

I ask Bent if he has any idea why.

He looks around at his empty tour bus.

"Personally, I think it's the Europeans who aren't coming," he says. "The dollar is high, and I think they're finding other places to go."

Bent can spot a European even before he sees the sandals and black socks. He is one himself. Nine years ago he moved from his native Denmark to Utah. He was a truck driver back home; now, at 67, he is a tour bus driver.

"Best job I ever had," he says. He deems the scenery as "fabulous," and the tourists, by his observation, have really taken to the buses. He hasn't heard one complaint the entire summer, in English or otherwise.

Either cross off the shuttle bus system as a reason why attendance is down or be prepared for a debate with Bent.


Zion Park isn't alone, of course. Tourism in general is down throughout the state and the entire West, for that matter.

But Zion is a surprise because, well, because it's Zion. People always flock here. The Zion Lodge is notorious for being as booked as the corner room at the Plaza. If you don't reserve a room at least six months out, forget about it.

Although tonight, there is vacancy. Tonight, you can walk up to the desk clerks at the Zion Lodge and ask for a room and they will not laugh at you. They'll ask you if you want smoking or non-smoking.

Strange times.

I mention this downturn in popularity to a park ranger named Carol, who looks at me like I just threw a match into dry kindling. Clearly, Zion National Park is dear to Carol's heart. Do not dis it. Do not treat it like it's the Pittsburgh Pirates going through a losing season.

"It's the economy, period." she says. "Have you looked at gas prices lately, and I don't mean just for your car, I mean for your home?"

She has a point; no doubt the point. People aren't getting away from it all — not even to come here, to the Shangri La of getting away from it all places — as much as they used to because of the high cost of getting away from it all.

In the meantime, Zion sits in all its splendor, its campgrounds half full, its buses with plenty of open seats.

View Comments

"Sometimes at night I am a limo," says Bent the bus driver. "Sometimes one person has the entire bus to himself."

And doesn't that person feel like king of the canyon.

There are worse things than not being crowded.


Lee Benson's column runs Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Please send e-mail to benson@desnews.com and faxes to 801-237-2527.

Looking for comments?
Find comments in their new home! Click the buttons at the top or within the article to view them — or use the button below for quick access.