Kings Canyon National Park is often mentioned in the same breath as Sequoias National Park. Kinda like Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen. Scottie Pippen was a top 50 NBA Player of all time, but he’s not going to escape his association with Michael Jordan outside of “Scottie Pippen didn’t have as much success without Michael Jordan.” “Sequoia and Kings Canyons National Parks.” Often, Sequoia is mentioned on its own, but I rarely see Kings Canyon get its own billing. This feels like an upmost tragedy as the Canyon is one of the most “can’t take your eyes off it” places I’ve ever found myself in.
Having spent most of the day playing amongst the Sequoia groves, my buddy Jammel and I noticed that the landscape was radically and rapidly changing. The once seemingly endless giant forest falls away into a massive void of imposing rock walls and depths carved into the earth. While in Sequoia, you found yourself unsteady as you gazed upwards, now you found yourself uneasy as you peer down over the edge. Miles across, and well over a mile deep, Kings Canyon is well named.
Winding back and forth around blind corners of rock made even more blinding by the setting sun blasting out around cliffs, the small two-lane road is not for the faint of heart. Looking at the map, you’d be justified in thinking that the journey to the canyon floor is a short easy drive, yet it is beguiling. Perhaps that was just this Florida boy’s perception of how roads work, but mountain and specifically canyon drives are a whole different world. Give yourself PLENTY of time to drive down into Kings Canyon, knowing that there is not only one way in, but one way out as well.
We came upon it during the golden hour, with the sun cascading off cliffs and rocks with glorious shades of brilliant light. Thanks to wildfires in the northern part of the state, the sky looked as though it was a watercolor playground of reds, yellows, and rich oranges.
It was difficult not to pull over at every turn off to take in what was just revealed, yet on we drove. After countless turns and sometimes dizzying rapid descents, we reached the canyon floor and the rocky river that flowed on our side. While this crystal clear and chilly river looked so very inviting, the multiple signs warning about its dangers helped remind you that you are in the wilderness and far from help.
It felt like a disservice, our visit to King’s Canyon after a day spent in Sequoias. This is a Park that deserves respect and awe all its own. Part of me wishes that it could escape its lockstep association with Sequoias National Park as the two Parks are so very wildly different. In fact, I’d venture to say that I haven’t come across two places neighboring each other that feel as though they are completely different planets. We were only able to spend a few brief hours traversing just a small sampling of the Canyon, but it was more than enough to spark grand dreams that spread across our souls.
Kings Canyon, with its neighbor Sequoias, make up one of the largest expanses of untouched wilderness in the lower 48 States. The roads into the parks are small and only give tiny but truly wondrous peeks into the unknown. Despite that, there is something great about just knowing that it’s out there – set aside to just be as it is.
“We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in. For it can be a means of reassuring ourselves of our sanity as creatures, a part of the geography of hope.” – Wallace Stegner, the Wilderness Letter