Camping In A Dark Sky Park: Sunset Crater National Monument
The Bonito Campground has been our favorite spot to camp for over three decades - and it's not only about the terrain... Letters from a Wanderer No 23
Standing in the pitch dark outside our tent, we looked up to see millions of stars and the Milky Way stretching across the dark sky as a thick cloud, the Star Path of my warrior ancestors, the Celestial Monster of the Ancient Maya.
Hello everyone and welcome to another issue of Letters from a Wanderer!
Thank you for being here!
We just returned from a camping trip, when we once again experienced the magic of the dark skies.
On a moonless night, we camped at the Bonito Campground in Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. Though the campground is our favorite in any season, during any phase of the moon, a dark night always makes the experience more special.
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We’ve been camping at the Bonito campground for over three decades. We first camped there as visitors of Arizona before we were even married, and followed the tradition yearly for a while, often more than once a season. We watched our kids here growing up from babies through toddlers learning to walk, through young kids learning to ride a bike and a scooter, and teens, walking off to hike their own trails in the area. Camping here again, just the two of us, feels like we came full circle. We are back at the same campground, setting up our tent under the same Ponderosa pines, walking the same lava flow, sleeping under the same starry sky, over thirty years after our first time.
Some things have changed, but the campground stayed the same. A devastating fire swept through the area a few years ago, but didn’t damage much of the campsite. A flood wiped out the old amphitheater, though the structure still stands.
But most of the Ponderosa pines on the Bonito lava flow are still the same, the three decades barely noticeable. Crows, ravens, and stellar jays still fly above our heads, settling on the branches of the trees above our tent. Abert’s squirrels still run across the black lava bed, and rush up the trunks of the surrounding trees.
The large sunflower field still surrounds the lava flow, showing up the bright flowers in late August/early September.
And the night sky is just as dark as I remember from my first time.
I’ve never seen the Milky Way as clear across the sky as the first time I looked up at night here, in the Bonito Campground thirty-some years ago.
Over time, I learned most of the summer constellations here, as my husband, a long-time astronomy enthusiast, pointed them out to me.
We often watched the night sky illuminated by the moon, like last time we camped here just a few months ago.
More often we watched the dark sky with no moon and no light pollution as we did this past weekend.
Camping near Sunset Crater is not new to us, it is a constant, a place we returned often and will continue to return. There is no lake or stream in its vicinity that might make it more popular with campers, but we like it that way. It always seems to be quieter than any other developed campground we’ve spent nights in over the years. You do pay the price for it, it’s true. At $30 a night, it’s more expensive to camp there than it is at the Grand Canyon. But for us, it is still worth it.
We always enjoy walking through the lava flow, through fields of flowers, under the shade of mature - and surrounded by much younger - Ponderosa pines. Watching the setting sun illuminate Sunset Crater, we understand how the famous cinder cone got its name.
It’s peaceful here. And so quiet. No highway noise, no light pollution, no neighbors yelling (most of the time).
We might still live in the city, but coming out here, camping in this environment, has a way to recharge us, to remind us of the beauty surrounding us. If we ever leave the Southwest, I know I will miss this. Somehow, it isn’t the city I live in that feels home, but this place and many others like it.
It was here that I realized the state of Arizona has become my home. Its natural features, the trails we walked throughout the years as newlyweds, parents, and now empty-nesters. It is a constant in a rapidly changing world of more buildings, more roads popping up all around us.
When we leave the city and come up here, time seems to stand still. It also makes me aware of what’s important, of how insignificant we are in the larger context, but also how lucky we are to be alive on this planet. Without the surrounding trees, the mountains, and even young volcanoes, we would not be able to exist. Rushing around in our day-to-day life, it is easy to forget. But outdoors, in nature, we may appreciate all we have, and all we are.
Thank you for reading this issue of Letters from a Wanderer!
Wishing you all the best,
Emese
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Ponderosa pines look majestic. Don't see it in Eastern Canada..
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing this.