I remember my first time at Arizona Hot Springs. In February 2016, I was in training to guide hiking and kayak tours in Black Canyon—a 12-mile stretch of the Colorado River downstream of Hoover Dam, known for its hot springs, near-pristine beaches and Emerald Cave.
On that day, my guided group arrived via kayak at the Arizona Hot Springs beach. After tying up our boats, we hiked into a canyon dotted with globe mallow, Mormon tea and mighty mesquite trees. As the canyon narrowed, it required careful maneuvering. We walked through flowing water, stepping on slippery volcanic rocks, and made it to a shaky 20-foot ladder that was directly in the path of a waterfall.
Emerald Cave at Black Canyon
After all those joyful obstacles, my group and I—the springs’ only visitors at that time—sat in the clear water and felt the magical 120-degree geothermal heat radiate from the rocks beneath us. Looking up at a blue sky pinched by the towering walls of a narrow slot canyon, I felt in awe.
That was the first of many times going to the springs. Though my guiding days are behind me, I still like to hike down to the river every year, touch the water and feel that awe. But unfortunately, that sense of wonder is harder to come by these days as outdoor recreation becomes increasingly more popular.
When I returned to the Colorado River in December, I saw graffiti, litter—toilet paper, food wrappers, rags and socks—along the strenuous Gold Strike Canyon trail just upstream of Arizona Hot Springs. Ill-equipped people lined up to get through parts of the trail that required intense maneuvering and bouldering. At the humanmade hot springs at the bottom of the canyon, people dunked their heads underwater, probably not knowing about the bacteria and actual brain-eating amoeba that live in those waters.
Increased interest in outdoor recreation has been a trend since COVID. According to the Nevada Statewide Comprehensive Outdoor Recreation Plan, there was a 34% increase in visitation to public lands from December 2019 to December 2020, and a 40% increase in campsite usage during the pandemic. The plan also noted that the consequences of this include “overcrowding in some areas; insufficient financial and/or human resources to manage, maintain, or grow park and recreation infrastructure in response to population growth; misuse, abuse, and vandalism; and heavier use of parks, trails, and other facilities than is sustainable.”
More people getting outside is a sign that Southern Nevada’s outdoor recreation economy is growing, which is good in a lot of ways. (In 2023, Nevada’s outdoor recreation economy took second place nationwide for job growth, according to data from the Bureau of Economic Analysis.)
But as more people come to outdoor spaces, there are tradeoffs with conservation—meaning an increase in visitation can negatively impact the natural resources and beauty that drew people there in the first place. Overcrowding can also degrade visitors’ experiences and lead to safety issues, says Marta Soligo, director of tourism research for UNLV’s Office of Economic Development.
“It’s good to have tourism. It’s good to have this success. It’s also good to think about strategies, to have a responsible promotion [and] ways to teach that. We have to teach the tourists to behave responsibly,” Soligo says. “When it comes to outdoor recreation, it can lead to permanent damage, like the rocks in Red Rock. We’ve already seen damage [there].”
If we want to continue to have the high-quality outdoor recreation opportunities that surround Las Vegas, then we need to assume stewardship of our public lands. And while stewardship encompasses many different actions, it is widely defined as “the responsible use and protection of the natural environment through conservation and sustainable practices to enhance ecosystem resilience and human well-being.”
Those sustainable practices may look different depending on what you’re doing—hiking, climbing, biking or boating. And they’re not always easy or intuitive. They require a community made up of government agencies, recreationists, volunteers, nonprofits and companies to educate visitors.
I would be remiss here if I didn’t acknowledge that a large force for education and other essential services, the National Park Service, is currently being gutted by President Trump’s controversial “Department of Government Efficiency” initiative.
While its effects are just beginning to trickle down and not yet fully understood, there are still resources available in the state, local, nonprofit and private sectors. Members of the outdoor community stand ready to teach you how to recreate responsibly.
Rock climbing
The Calico Basin area of Red Rock Canyon is practically a climber’s playground, with a vast array of bouldering and sport climbing routes at easy-access places like Cannibal Crag and Kraft Mountain boulders, as well as in more backcountry areas for those who are willing to hike in with their gear.
Cory Statt climbing a route in Cannibal Crag.
According to a 2022 report from the Bureau of Land Management, which has jurisdiction over Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, recreation use in Calico Basin has increased by 30% to 35% since 2012. In 2022, the area attracted 1.2 million of Red Rock’s 3.8 million visitors.
One of the reasons it is so popular may be that it’s free to enter, with no fee station. But that could change, should visitation and recreation continue to increase. The Southern Nevada Climbers Coalition is keenly aware that the area is at risk of being gated off with a fee station, an option that was left on the table in the latest business plan prepared by the BLM.
“It’s unfortunate that in order to protect a resource, we need to limit access to it at times. I’m not saying that Calico Basin is an area that needs limiting, but if numbers continue to grow, it’s inevitable,” says Cory Statt, president of the Southern Nevada Climbers Coalition.
The coalition is in favor of keeping the area free of a fee station, and so they’ve taken it upon themselves to practice good stewardship there. Members take tips about litter and graffiti and have facilitated clean-ups of popular climbing areas. They worked with the BLM to install WAG bag stations and continue to refill them. (An acronym for Waste Alleviation and Gelling, WAG bags are essentially two-layer bags that contain a gel substance that solidifies and deodorizes human waste.)
They also spread the word about climbing on wet sandstone—one of the biggest no-nos for the local climbing scene. They detail on their website and social media why people shouldn’t do this.
“Rain seeps into the sandstone that we have. Even 24 hours after heavy rain, [it’s] at least 50% or more weaker. It just breaks more easily and causes not only damage to the routes, but it’s also a dangerous situation where someone could drop a rock on their belayer, or someone could take a fall when they don’t expect to,” Statt says.
The coalition is also working on getting rain monitor stations set up closer to the most popular climbing areas.
“The goal is to get people more information so they can make more informed decisions,” Statt says. “We are purposefully not enforcing anything, and we’re not telling people they can or can’t do anything. It’s more encouraging.”
Climbers who traveled to climb in Red Rock Canyon might not be thrilled to have their plans foiled by rain. But they can also be directed to alternative, non-sandstone climbing areas like nearby Mount Charleston, Statt says.
Mountain biking
Also in Red Rock NCA, the Cottonwood Canyon and Blue Diamond areas have been popular spots for mountain bikers for decades. And like other recreational sports, the biking community is experiencing growing pains.
“The pace of new trails showing up and the number of people mountain biking has just exploded … really in the last five years,” says Alison Cormier, a local mountain biker for 25 years and vice president of the Southern Nevada Mountain Bike Association.
Cormier has noticed a “rapid” increase in graffiti and trash since the pandemic, attributing these to people who don’t have an appreciation for nature.
That mindset also creates issues when it comes to trail etiquette, she adds. Recreationists don’t always want to share the trail, whether it’s joggers with earbuds in and no awareness of bikes trying to pass them, or e-bike users zooming through the trails as fast as possible.
“Some mountain bikers just think … everybody needs to get out of their way. [But] trails are common ground. And we need to learn to live with all the other trail users. Trail etiquette is based on that—living with the other trail users and respecting nature and not ruining it by going off trail,” she says.
As a National Interscholastic Cycling Association coach for high school and middle school age mountain bikers, she teaches her students trail etiquette. The sooner they start learning, the better, she says.
“If we can impress upon people why nature is so beneficial, not only for our own mental and physical health, but also for its own sake, hopefully it will sink in that we should try to preserve it in as nice a form as we can,” Cormier says.
The association is working on constructing new trails to help keep up with the demand for mountain biking. Members have a concept plan in the works for new beginner and intermediate trails surrounding the campground in Red Rock Canyon and are working on fundraising and grants to construct the trails. They’re also looking to construct beginner and intermediate mountain biking trails that would connect with Southwest Ridge Park.
The association also received a grant to start planning an uphill trail for the popular 3 Mile Smile route in Cottonwood Canyon.
“It’s the most fun when you can be at the top and ride it down. … Right now, to get to the top, you have to ride it uphill, and then you risk coming face to face with somebody who’s coming downhill. So there’s user conflict [and] a safety factor,” Cormier says.
Paddle sports
Sarra Jones, a guide and instructor with tour company Desert Adventures, guides a lot of overnight trips in Black Canyon in Lake Mead NRA. One of the gems of the area is Emerald Cave, where the Colorado River water glows a vibrant green when the sunlight hits it just right. Visitors love to take photos inside the grotto, which is accessible only by boat.
Clockwise from top: Sarra Jones, Kyle Ellis, Aaron Kehoe and Sasha Palmer kayaking at Lake Mead.
When national parks closed or limited access to certain areas during COVID, they kept Willow Beach open, creating a perfect storm for overcrowding. The beach, which has a large parking lot and marina, is about two miles downstream of the cave.
“I’m sure that it was the explosion on social media too, because people were posting more pictures of how it glows and how beautiful it is when it does have the sun hit it. It got to the point where there were times the kayak beach at Willow Beach was almost inaccessible because there were so many people on the beach,” says Jones, who has worked for Desert Adventures since 2019.
The National Park Service stepped in and limited tour companies to launching 45 boats at a time to manage crowds, she adds. And fortunately for visitors, the pandemic created just a spike in visitation, rather than a continued trend. Other parts of Lake Mead opened back up, and crowding started to go down.
“Last year, across the board there were approximately 30% less people. Most companies were down in business,” Jones says.
What happened with Emerald Cave during the pandemic again illustrates the tradeoffs between visitation and conservation: when visitation is too high, there’s more competition for natural resources and sometimes, land managers deal with that by limiting access.
While they might not be able to control the heavy volumes of visitors, Desert Adventures guides do take accountability for their groups, Jones says. Two years ago, the company implemented Leave No Trace practices (see page 23) with its customers. For those who feel that they don’t need a guide and only need an outfitter, the company ensures that they have all the materials they need to minimize their impact on the beaches along the river.
“We make sure they have fire pits, so they’re not leaving marks of fires on the beaches. They have to carry garbage containers and animal-proof food storage. We make sure they pack out all their garbage in addition to human waste. We offer rentals if they don’t have those items themselves,” Jones says.
Teaching stewardship
People are more likely to practice good stewardship if they have a special connection to the land. Every time I take my yearly trip to the Colorado River, I bring gloves and a trash bag and pick up what I can, because I still feel the sense of responsibility I felt when I was a tour guide. My history with the land makes me want to take care of it.
As the original stewards of these lands, Native American communities look to share their connection to land, and model stewardship practices. Fawn Douglas, a member of the Las Vegas Paiute Tribe, says she recently did this on a hike with BLM rangers in Red Rock Canyon.
“We had an open conversation about how I forage for plant medicines or teas, and how I do that in a respectful way—not to completely thrash the plant, but take a little bit here, a little bit there and place some water in it as an offering,” she says.
Also the founder of local gallery and activism center Nuwu Art, she organized an event at Red Rock Canyon visitors center on March 2 that celebrated the culture of the Southern Paiutes, the area’s original stewards, with pow wow dance, storytelling and art.
“The Red Rock area was really home to our ancestors—the agave roasting pits, the petroglyphs, archaeological areas are there. When we can talk about why these lands are so important to us, it really builds a spark with other people. They’re like, ‘Let me not vandalize it. Let me pick up my trash [and] leave no trace.’ That education really goes far. They’re also going to tell their kids, they’ll tell their team members and educate those around them,” she says.
“When it comes to public lands, this belongs to all of us. Why wouldn’t we want to take care of it?”