A Place Woven Into Memory

The loss of the North Rim Lodge has left a deep ache in our hearts. This is not just about a building. It is about a place woven into memory, ritual, and reverence.

Rituals, Meals, and Milestones

For years, we have ended backpacking trips with a celebratory drink on the lodge’s balcony, gazing out across my favorite national park. It was the kind of place that called to you from deep in the canyon, when you were eating freeze-dried meals and dreaming of a pork chop with foraged mushrooms and a cold beer. It was where we camped, where I once rescued a guest’s dropped keys from the rim (Instagram story here), and where our family gathered for sunsets and big-table birthday dinners.

The Canyon That Changed My Life

We also cut our winter firewood and Christmas trees from the surrounding forest—always responsibly and with permits. That helped reduce fuel loads and, in some small way, supported the forest’s health. My grandfather was the first to take me to the Grand Canyon when I was in my early twenties. His ashes rest at the base of a tree that now stands in the path of the fire.

My love for the Grand Canyon is so deep that it shaped the entire course of my life. It’s where I have spent years guiding, hiking, rafting, canyoneering, getting lost, getting unlost, and returning again and again with people who have also felt the canyon’s unyielding pull. I find an immediate safe haven in people who profess to love the Grand Canyon—because if you know how to love the Grand Canyon, you know how to love me.

There is worry, too. We are thinking about the lodge staff, the firefighters (some of whom are dear friends), and the small businesses in this region whose seasons have been turned upside down. Outfitters running Rim-to-Rim trips, shuttle services, and lodges like Jacob Lake Inn and Kaibab Lodge—so many livelihoods are being impacted in ways that will be felt for years.

Even so, we try to hold onto perspective. Because the White Sage Fire was already burning and threatening the only access road to the rim, the lodge had been evacuated before the Dragon Bravo Fire unexpectedly and suddenly advanced. The loss could have been so much worse.

Grief, Gratitude, and Perspective

We are grieving. But we also know that fire is a natural part of this ecosystem. The Kaibab Plateau is home to many coniferous species that require fire to reproduce. We trust in the resilience of the land and of our community.

This event is a heartbreaking reminder that there is no time to wait. You never know when you’re making your last memory with a person or a place. There will always be a wish for one more photo, one more visit, one more moment. Some changes are permanent and all we’re left with are the stories and the memories we chose to make. I’m so grateful I made time for this place, again and again. I’ll carry those memories for the rest of my life.

So if you’ve been waiting, don’t. Spend your life doing the things you love with the people you love. Take the trip. Watch the sunset. Hug your people. Go to the place. Make the memory.

There is no time to waste.

The North Rim Lodge may be gone, but the canyon remains. And so does our commitment to sharing its beauty and stories with those who come to see it with reverent eyes.