Utah National Parks RV Trip

I live in New York City and take the subway. I’ve never owned a car in my life. So, what was I doing piloting my family around Utah in a 24-foot-long Class C RV, hitting as many national and state parks as we could in a week? Blame my son, Calder, who, it turns out, may be a genius.

As far as we can tell, he got bitten by the RV bug after seeing the classic Disney short “Mickey’s Trailer” at age 5. He immediately begged to go on an RV trip, which we forgot for a few years until we clambered into our Airstream rental during a stay at AutoCamp in Joshua Tree and Calder all but burst into tears at the discovery it was stationary. He got his revenge this year, when he suggested we turn our spring break tradition of visiting national parks into a real RV adventure.

“Think of the money we’ll save on hotels,” he said. Instagram overheard us and I got served up a sponsored post for the German-based company Roadsurfer, promising a 20 percent discount. Next thing I knew, we were in Las Vegas, checking to make sure our black water tank was empty before hitting the road in a 12,000-pound vehicle with no rearview mirror.

Was it amazing? Yes. Were there things I wish I’d known ahead of time? Yes. And fortunately I’m here to share them with you.

Don’t solely rely on Google Maps.

As I planned our trip from the comfort of a Manhattan apartment, Utah’s parks didn’t appear too far apart from each other. Google Maps assured me we could make it from Zion National Park to Dead Horse Point State Park in four hours. Doable, I thought. We’d have plenty of time to explore the sculpted canyons and hike the six-mile loop trail. Google did not share with us its assumption we’d be cruising along at the Utah speed limit of 80. Since our RV started to shake above 65, the drive took us well over six hours, landing us at Dead Horse at 4 p.m., utterly exhausted and only able to shuffle our way along the one-mile Colorado River Overlook trail. We wound up spending most of our time sitting and taking in the epic beauty of the seemingly endless canyon. It was lovely, but had I known how long we’d be driving, I’d have extended our trip by at least a day, gone at a more leisurely pace, and incorporated more stops.

Don’t drive your RV into the park unless necessary.

By the time we arrived at Zion National Park on our first day, the visitor’s parking lot was full, so we were forced to park in Springdale, the adjacent town, and take the free shuttle bus. This was a good thing as the park was packed, with cars slowly snaking their way up the narrow, winding roads—not ideal for RV driving. Plus, RVs have to pay $15 and be “escorted” through the tight Zion-Mount Carmel Tunnel in the upper part of the park. The shuttle, meanwhile, takes you everywhere you need to go—Angels Landing, Emerald Pools, the Narrows—and for free.

We made the mistake of driving into Bryce Canyon National Park, only to discover RVs are forbidden at basically every major viewing point from April to October. We inched our way up to Rainbow Point, where we were finally able to park and venture out for a hike. But I kept thinking about all the magical hoodoos and photo ops I was missing.

Book private RV parks.

We only booked our trip two months in advance, and all of the state and national park campgrounds were full. But it turned out for the best. Since it wasn’t yet the high season, prices at the private RV parks were reasonable (from $37 to $68 per night), and they came with great amenities, including showers, pools, Wi-Fi, even mini golf. The brand-new Zion White Bison had a herd of white bison. While it would have been nice to stay at the national parks, most campgrounds don’t have electric and sewage hookups. As first-time RVers, these little luxuries were key.

Be prepared to make friends.

RV parks are social spaces. If you’re used to solitary hotel stays like me, it can take some time to embrace this community mentality. But you should. As soon as we’d pull in and find our designated spot, a smiling stranger would amble over and ask us where we were from. Thirty minutes later, we’d still be standing there discussing the hikes we took, wildlife we spotted, and where we stopped for lunch. At Spanish Trail RV Park in Moab, what I thought would be a five-minute dip in the hot tub turned into an hour-long gabfest with newly empty nesters from Tucson. Meanwhile, Calder did cannonballs in the pool with a slew of kids. At the KOA campground in Hurricane, an older couple helped me back into our site (reverse parking is hard) and then told us about their cross-country adventure from Tennessee to California, dog in tow.

Remember to turn on the propane tank before bed.

When you’re hiking through Arches National Park in 80-degree weather, it’s difficult to imagine you’ll need to turn on the heat at night. But you will. I woke up shivering at 4 a.m. and had to stumble out into the freezing cold to turn the knob on the propane tank so I could switch on the heat. Just be sure to shut it off before heading out in the morning.

Cook, but also seek out local, family-owned restaurants.

One cost-saving benefit of traveling in an RV is you can cook your own meals. After picking up our RV in Vegas, we stopped to stock up on coffee, granola, sandwich ingredients, frozen turkey burgers, and a box of Utah’s beloved FatBoy ice cream sandwiches. The money we saved on breakfast alone was eye-opening. At Arches, after doing the Delicate Arch hike—a trip highlight—we came back to our RV, made sandwiches in our air-conditioned “kitchen,” and then headed back out to explore some more. That night, we grilled up turkey burgers and ate at the picnic table by our site under a clear, star-studded sky.

But one can’t live on turkey burgers alone. We ended up having two wonderful meals at family-owned spots. One night in Moab, we feasted on ribs and fry bread at Susie’s Branding Iron, conveniently located across the street from our RV park. On our way to Bryce the next day, we stopped for gas in the tiny town of Loa and ended up wandering into Marinia’s Country Cafe next door. An episode of Little House on the Prairie played on the TV hanging over the counter as we dug into the best chicken noodle soup of our lives, Reuben sandwiches, and sky-high slices of coconut cream pie. I think about that soup often.