The Healy family just got a little bit bigger and a lot more awesome! Earlier this month, we gathered together in the scenic deserts of Arizona to celebrate the long-awaited union of my brother Andrew and his wonderful wife Cali. The ceremony itself was incomparably beautiful, set against a backdrop of Saguaros with the Superstition Mountains looming in the distance, and the reception that followed was a truly unforgettable party! While the wedding was a momentous occasion in its own right, Jacqi and I were particularly excited about the follow-up festivities. The happy couple was kind enough to invite their family and friends to join their unofficial mini-moon adventure: a whirlwind circuit of national parks and other points of interest throughout the Southwest. I was thrilled by the opportunity to revisit some of my favorite sites in this corner of the continent, even more so due to the impressive crew of loved ones who signed on to be a part of this expedition!
During the first few days of the trip, for obvious reasons, birding was not my primary focus. Although my priorities lay squarely with my best man duties, there were still a number of interesting critters to be found as we prepared for the main event. So far from my typical East Coast haunts, even the common city birds in the heart of Phoenix were noteworthy additions to my 2025 year list, including White-winged Dove, Anna’s Hummingbird, Verdin, and the ubiquitous Great-tailed Grackle. The wedding venue, located in Apache Junction, was home to countless iconic denizens of the desert. Adorable coveys of Gambel’s Quail roamed all over the grounds, prompting excited shouts from the wedding party whenever they scrambled past. A pair of Harris’s Hawks was frequently seen patrolling the area, circling up conspicuously during the exchanging of the vows. I spotted a handsome male Phainopepla flycatching from prominent perches during cocktail hour, and sunset ushered in a flight of Lesser Nighthawks and my lifer Canyon Bats as darkness settled over the land. We naturalists are multitaskers by default: always watching, no matter what else we may be busy with!
The day after the ceremony, we all loaded our effects into our respective vehicles and set out for the north. We stopped for the evening in Sedona, marveling at the striking sandstone outcrops that have made the town famous around the world. The whole team convened for a hike at the Cathedral Rock Trail the following morning. With all of my siblings and their significant others, a number of my friends, and the parents of both the bride and the groom, our full contingent numbered 16 strong. We all had our own unique schedules of sidequests and bonus activities planned for the coming week, so it was an extra special treat to get everyone together for a shared experience. The trek up to the overlook featured reunions with birds like Juniper Titmouse, Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay, and Bushtit, and we were greeted at the summit by the chattering screams of White-throated Swifts rocketing past the stony cliffs in formation flight. Several of us spied Coyotes slinking along the roadsides during our time in Sedona, and I discovered a small-scale surprise in the form of a band of Honeypot Ants marching across the trail. There is always a fascinating abundance of life to observe in the rugged lands of the Southwest, to say nothing of the incredible scenery!
Our northward journey continued, winding through riparian corridors, pinyon-juniper forests, and sagebrush flats as we made our way towards the Grand Canyon. This leg of the voyage produced my one and only avian lifer of the trip: a dusty blue Pinyon Jay perched up prominently on a pine snag along the roadside. I was delighted to finally connect with this charismatic corvid, which I had somehow missed on all my previous visits to its rather expansive range. My encounters with this bird wound up being restricted to fleeting glimpses and a few heard-only vocalizations, but it was nevertheless something of a relief to check the species off my life list at long last. There were plenty of other critters to be found as we approached the famous national park, including sizable herds of Elk. We encountered a number of these impressive ungulates grazing right along the shoulders of the park’s roadways, and one particularly bold cow was observed drinking from the puddles near the bottle filling stations. Rock Squirrels and Cliff Chipmunks scurried about near the trailheads and visitor centers looking for fallen scraps of food, and we also stumbled upon a pair of Plateau Fence Lizards sunning themselves on the rocks by the parking lot.
Our group reassembled at Mather Point, a spectacular overlook surveying the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. I have had the remarkable good fortune to visit this geological wonder of the world on multiple occasions, but I always come away feeling just as awestruck and inspired as I did the first time, some 20 years ago. As I drank in the majesty of the setting, I began dutifully scanning the surrounding skies and rocky ledges. Within minutes, I picked out a trio of birds soaring far to the east. Despite the vast distance, their massive size and steady, powerful flight were readily apparent. As they turned slow loops over the canyon, I was able to discern telltale white patches on their wings and prominent primary feathers splayed like the fingers of a giant hand. Having been obsessed with the species since early childhood, when I first learned the dramatic tale of the California Condor’s near extinction and ongoing gradual recovery, these magnificent scavengers were unmistakable to me even as mere specks on the horizon. A smile spread across my face as I alerted my family and friends, passing binoculars around the crowd so everyone could get a quick look before the birds disappeared from view. This faraway sighting was in keeping with my previous condor encounters, which were either similarly distant or unsatisfactorily brief, but I was still delighted to reunite with this most iconic of endangered species after so many years.Â
With the party preparing to split up once again, I mentioned that anyone seeking an improved condor experience would do well to check out Navajo Bridge, where groups of the giant vultures are known to regularly congregate. As I settled in for the night in Williams with my wife, the newlyweds, and both sets of parents, we received a report from my sisters’ car that they had taken my advice on their way to Page, documenting a cohort of cooperative condors coming in to roost for the evening. My already lofty anticipation levels skyrocketed to near unsustainable heights, but I knew we still had a full day of adventures planned for the Grand Canyon before it was our turn to visit the bridge.
After partaking in a hearty breakfast, we returned to the park for an afternoon hike. Starting out from the South Kaibab Trailhead, we descended into the canyon itself, pausing for a late lunch at the aptly named Ooh Aah Point. A charming Rock Wren bounced around the boulders and crevices near our prominent perch, while Common Ravens and Red-tailed Hawks wheeled among the clouds overhead. We knew we lacked the time and provisions for the complete descent to the banks of the Colorado River, and it was hard enough work hiking in and out to our selected vista in the Arizona heat. Nevertheless, it was a truly wonderful experience to look up at the walls of the South Rim rather than looking down from them. Despite the hot, sunny conditions, there were plenty of noteworthy birds to be found around the national park and our lodgings in Williams, including Mountain Chickadee, Say’s Phoebe, and Lesser Goldfinch.
With sunset fast approaching, we made our way towards Yaki Point, one of the most highly recommended spots for watching the lights go out over the Grand Canyon. The park shuttle service dropped us off at the overlook just in time, and we cozied up on the ledge for a relaxing vigil as the sun sunk ever closer to the horizon. The shadows grew longer and the colors shifted spectacularly as the light continued to fade, and we enjoyed close views of a steady procession of Turkey Vultures cruising along the rim as they headed off to their nightly roosts. Once the sun finally disappeared, we caught the next bus back to the parking area and slowly made our way through the dark back towards Williams for the night. Our time in Grand Canyon National Park had come to a close, capped off with a fittingly fantastic finale, but the fun was only just getting started!
The next morning, we started out on the long drive north towards Utah. Conveniently, we had a stop planned more or less at the halfway point along the route from Williams to Hurricane. The road to Navajo Bridge took us through some starkly impressive landscapes, and there were stretches of the journey where I saw no wildlife of any kind for half an hour or more! When we finally spotted the rich red rocks of the Vermilion Cliffs rising like a wall on the distant horizon, I knew that our destination was within reach. We pulled up to the site just before midday, and I eagerly stepped out into desert heat with binoculars and camera in hand. The parallel pedestrian and roadway bridges offered a commanding vantage point, with the vivid waters of the Colorado River flowing through the gorge below. The melodious song of a Canyon Wren echoed across the stony cliffs while Violet-green Swallows danced among the clouds overhead. As I explored the area, I unexpectedly stumbled into a familiar face when I crossed paths with New York birder Ernst Mutchnick and his tour group. Jacqi is always amused by the frequency with which I encounter folks who know me, no matter how far from home we may wander! Our primary objective of an up-close condor encounter, however, was not so easily attained. The big birds were conspicuously absent during my first pass of the surroundings, resulting in some minor consternation within my search party. A brief sighting of two individuals thermaling in the distance did little to assuage these anxieties; I was reluctant to settle for yet another glimpse from a mile away at a site so famous for its amazing viewing opportunities!Â
After several minutes of trudging back and forth across the span of the bridge, I heard Dad call my name. I whipped around to find the blue skies shadowed by the hulking frame of a truly enormous bird. Its mighty wings, each tipped with slotted, finger-like feathers, formed an imposing spread far wider across than the height of the tallest human. This dramatic size comparison was made readily obvious by the condor’s low altitude flight trajectory, heading straight at me and rapidly descending towards eye level. I gazed on in wonder as this titan of the air sailed past me at close range, dipping below the guardrail and swooping in for a landing on a rocky outcrop just below the main bridge. My scattered family members assembled to savor the remarkable scene, watching the condor as it preened and sunbathed with its wings fully unfurled. I took note of the prominent field-readable tags marked with the number 21, which identified this bird as a particularly famous immature female, even within the broader context of the celebrated saga that made her species into a conservation icon.
The incredible tale began with a bold rescue mission during the throes of a catastrophic avian influenza outbreak in early 2023. Following the untimely death of female condor 316, biologists at the Vermilion Cliffs discovered that her mate, 680, had been endeavoring to solo incubate their egg for several weeks. This devoted effort was a potential threat to the father’s own health, and the recovery team made a command decision to remove the egg so he would be free to feed and care for himself. With the surprise reveal that the developing embryo was still viable, arrangements were made to transport the precious cargo to Liberty Wildlife rehab center in Phoenix. When she finally hatched, gently assisted by surgical pliers, the chick was named Milagra in recognition of her miracle baby status. The young condor was subsequently transported to the Peregrine Fund facility in Boise, a cornerstone institution for the captive breeding program that narrowly saved the species from the brink of extinction. After spending more than a year under the doting care of her foster parents and the tutelage of a mentor flock, Milagra was released back into the wild in fall 2024, not far from the nest cave where she was meant to have entered this world. To see this extraordinary bird thriving in her element, soaring masterfully above the cliffs of her canyon home after so harrowing a start to her life, was nothing short of awe-inspiring. This species is a relic from the time of mammoths and giant ground sloths, a living piece of natural history that came dangerously close to disappearing forever. Thanks to the tireless efforts of dedicated researchers, rangers, and rehabbers, I have personally never lived in a world without free-flying California Condors. I hope with all my heart that I never do.
When Milagra finally launched into the air and soared out of sight up the canyon, we took it as our cue to get back on the road. It took us several hours more to reach our next destination, with travel time compounded by a long line of vehicles waiting for access at the eastern gate of Zion National Park. The long drive was instantly justified, however, by the stunning view that greeted us when we finally emerged from the entrance tunnel. My first and only previous visit to Zion was during my family’s Southwest road trip during the summer of 2005. I was delighted to see that the arresting beauty of its rugged landscapes lived up to the high expectations of my fond childhood memories.
We regrouped with the Page detachment of our crew on the trails by the visitor center, spending a few minutes swapping stories as we strolled the shores of the Virgin River. My sister Brigid called out to me from a few paces ahead that she had spotted a loon, a claim that I must confess caught me quite off-guard. Sure enough, a handsome adult Common Loon in dazzling breeding plumage was floating down the stream just a stone’s throw away. I was more than a little shocked to see this familiar bird in this unfamiliar context, especially at such close range. Loons are perfectly adapted for life on the expansive waters of large lakes and ocean coasts, and for this individual to find itself on such a shallow, narrow stretch of river along the valley floor must have taken a rather substantial navigational error during its northbound migration. Despite its unorthodox choice of a stopover site, the bird appeared to be alert and healthy, surveying its surroundings intently and snorkeling for prey as it gradually drifted with the current. I could only hope that its journey downstream would eventually deliver it to deeper, wider waters with more suitable foraging and takeoff opportunities. In any case, I was grateful for this unique opportunity to enjoy a productive photo shoot with this widely beloved species, one of my personal favorites and the 2025 ABA Bird of the Year, in such an unexpected setting. The natural world is always full of surprises!
The whole squad gathered together for a tasty dinner and some refreshing drinks at the Zion Brew Pub right outside the park’s southern entrance, socializing and strategizing as the evening skies grew steadily duskier. Our temporary abode for this leg of the trip was on the western outskirts of Hurricane, set against some dry, brushy hillsides. The following morning delivered my 200th year bird of 2025, a charming Black-throated Sparrow that I spotted bouncing around the backyard while I readied my gear for the day’s adventures. Our primary object in Zion was settling a score that had been left unresolved for 20 long years: reaching the summit of the world-renowned rock formation known as Angel’s Landing. In the summer of 2005, my family’s first attempt to conquer this infamously challenging hike had been thwarted by a sudden thunderstorm that chased us off the final stretch of trail. No one wants to be stuck holding metal chains more than 1,400 feet above the valley floor when lightning bolts start flying! This time, I was determined to reach the top with my siblings and friends. Despite some initial uncertainty in the forecast, the weather held out just long enough for us to successfully tackle the climb. I especially appreciated the gentle encouragement of my fearless wife during some of the dodgier clifftop scrambles, but the panoramic view from the peak was absolutely worth the effort it took to get there!
Although my optics stayed safely stashed away in my overloaded backpack for the most arduous portion of the hike, I did make a point to watch for wildlife on my way up and down the Angel’s Landing trail. I kept a weather eye out for the resident Spotted Owls of Refrigerator Canyon and the nearby nesting California Condor pair that frequents the area, but both sets of rare raptors remained hidden during our visit. Instead, I was pleased to pick out several Painted Redstarts flitting through the branches in a shady ravine, and our return to the trailhead was accompanied by a delightful soundtrack of trilling Broad-tailed Hummingbirds, buzzy Black-throated Gray Warblers, and chipping Black Phoebes. Wild Turkeys stalked the shoulders of the roadsides, including a beefy tom displaying in the middle of the parking lot at the Zion Lodge. With wind speeds increasing and signs of rain on the horizon, the crew beat a hasty retreat back to our lodgings, where we shared a bountiful feast and no shortage of drinks, toasting our victory as we rode out the storm together.
The final family outing of our Southwest spring break was a trek up the Narrows, a picturesque river canyon that goes toe to toe with Angel’s Landing as Zion’s most popular trail. With our 2005 visit to this park coinciding with the heat of summer, we faced the long march accordingly: shoeless and in shorts. Given the chillier spring temperatures this time around, which had further cooled perceptibly in the wake of the previous night’s bad weather, we elected to rent proper gear in the form of chest waders, water shoes, and walking sticks. While our limited timetable meant that we were unable to hike the full length of the 12-mile track, we still thoroughly enjoyed our expedition up the Virgin River. The scenic vistas along the way were simply incredible, and we were accompanied nearly the entire time by the ever endearing American Dippers. Pairs of the adorable aquatic songbirds were busily patrolling their chosen territories, with some individuals actively constructing mossy nests beneath overhanging ledges and others gathering mouthfuls of critters to provision their hungry chicks. I also picked up an unexpected herpetological lifer in the form of an Arizona Toad that we found hopping along the entry trail. Once we finally made it back to dry land, we withdrew to Hurricane for one last night of festivities together. The trip had been a roaring success from start to finish, all thanks to my awesome brother and my exceptional new sister-in-law! Jacqi and I got an early start the next morning, setting out across the desert towards Las Vegas to board our flight back to New York. Going home is never easy after such an amazing vacation, but I am beyond grateful for all the wonderful memories forged with my family and friends over the course of this journey.
This most recent visit to the Southwest, even beyond the unforgettably magical experience of my brother’s wedding, left me feeling rather reflective and inspired. I consider it a genuine privilege to have visited the vast majority of American national parks over the course of my lifetime. Our federal lands are uniquely special places, where some of the continent’s most magnificent creatures still roam free through some of our most spectacular landscapes. At a time when so much of the cultural discourse surrounding environmentalism is plagued by cynical skepticism, it is more important than ever to take a stand on behalf of conservation efforts, be they local or international. Responsible, science-based management of parklands and wild spaces is critical to the maintenance of a healthy ecosystem, and the perennial popularity of short-sighted, extractive land use practices enacted in service of the almighty dollar threatens to upset the delicate balance of the world around us. The National Park System has been widely referred to as “America’s best idea,” and I, for one, would be hard-pressed to find the hyperbole in that claim. We are fortunate to inhabit a planet still replete with natural wonders. They are worth seeking out, they are worth studying, and they are certainly worth protecting.