Wide-Open Spaces

A new glamping retreat near Bryce Canyon National Park, in Utah, has no shortage of outdoor thrills-or creature comforts. 

- Samantha Falewée

"THIS'LL BE A CHANCE for you to really cowboy," said Joseph Steed. "We're going off-road."

I was sitting horseback on a ridgetop outside Tropic, a dusty Utah town 10 miles from Bryce Canyon National Park. Before me was a vista straight out of a Pixar film: miles of silver-green sagebrush extending to distant plateaus, chalked pale pink and white by minerals in the rock. Beyond them was Bryce Amphitheater, a massive chasm where spindly sandstone rocks called hoodoos rose up like church spires. There was no road or path, or even a line of footsteps, in sight.

I had gone to Utah in September with hopes of leaving my New York City life behind if only for a long weekend. A new glamping site, Under Canvas Bryce Canyon (undercanvas.com; doubles from $314), had opened a month earlier, promising travelers access to the area's biking, climbing, and hiking, along with luxuries like king-size beds and a gift shop stocked with Lululemon. After checking in, I'd asked for horse-backriding recommendations, and soon after, I swung into a saddle next to Steed, who runs Western Canyons Trailrides (435-817-7747).

Over the next eight hours, we rode through undulating slot canyons so narrow the sandstone brushed my knees, navigated wet creek beds, and climbed dusty hills to views that again and again defied description. I chewed on lemon-pepper jerky as Steed (I asked if that was his real last name; he assured me it was) relayed exploits from his life: breaking mustangs, running cattle drives, guiding mules up and down the Grand Canyon.

"One thing to remember," Steed said, peering out from under the brim of his cowboy hat. "You can't do this lifestyle if you don't love it. It has to be a choice. Otherwise it's too tough." My knees throbbed in agreement, a sure sign I'd be sore tomorrow.