The most recommended books about the Grand Canyon

Combine vivid descriptions of the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River with the enthralling story of two under-recognized women botanists who went there in the 1930s—how can you go wrong?

People back then thought women would be unable to survive the rapids of the Colorado, much less do groundbreaking science in the canyon. Sevigny’s protagonists, however, did both, with historic results.

Brave the Wild River is adventure, biography, and natural history in a compelling mix.

Probably a lesser-known book, Brighty still packs a powerful emotional punch. Similar to Pax, the book speaks movingly about the power of the wild and the value of allowing animals to exist on their terms. In addition to this less, Brighty also tells of the moving bond between a spitfire donkey and a pair of old men working the Grand Canyon. Although he loses his companion, a prospector named Old Timer, early in the book, Brighty never forgets the man’s kindness. He spends the rest of the book, loyal to another man, Jim, seeking justice for Old Timer’s murder. Throughout the book, Brighty never loses the wild inside him and Marguerite Henry does a masterful job of weaving together the themes of loyalty, purpose, and respect for Brighty’s personal integrity. Although mostly considered a children’s book, Brighty is well-worth the read for any adult looking for a story to… show more.

This one’s a little bit of a cheat because the Grand Canyon isn’t technically a mountainous landscape—unless you’re looking at it from the bottom. But as far as landscapes go, you can’t do much better. The Anomaly follows an I’ll-do-it-myself archaeologist who discovers an ancient cave that seems to have a mind of its own. More than anything, this book is just downright freakin’ fun. It’s evident that Rutger knows this landscape better than most, and he utilizes both history and conspiracy theories to his advantage. This one’s a true mystery where the setting is a character in itself.

Even the most perfect pictures simply cannot do the canyon justice—none of mine ever have. But the photographic montages of Klett and Wolfe come close; fusing historical shots with contemporary ones they took at the same location, from the same angle, they manage to show what impresses me most in the grand gorge: its timelessness, how little the geology and even the vegetation changes over decades.

This really puts human life into perspective. The images in this coffee table book for the discerning are daring, whimsical, playful, and experimental, all of which are qualities that the best guides and canyoneers display.

Amory wrote this wildly entertaining read of his rescue of a stray he found sick and starving in a NYC alley on a snowy Christmas Eve in 1977. He named the white cat Polar Bear, a moody curmudgeon with one blue and one gold eye, who became his lifelong companion. The book spent 12 weeks at #1 on The New York Times bestseller list and sold over 10 million copies. Amory was a fierce and famous activist who helped Captain Paul Watson of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society buy a boat to use in his fight against whaling and seal-hunting. In 1980 Amory founded the Black Beauty Ranch in Texas, a refuge for discarded and neglected animals, from cats, dogs, deer, horses to elephants, monkeys, and big cats. That same year, he spent over $500,000 to trap 582 burros and helicopter them out of the Grand Canyon to save these… show more.

Indigenous communities and land dispossession are the subjects of Crimes Against Nature, although Jacoby also brings white transgressors of federal policy into his book about the dark history of the American conservation movement. The rural communities he describes engaged in survival practices that quickly became defined and punished as crimes: hunting, fishing, tree-cutting, and foraging. Jacoby includes eastern parks in his assessment, writing about the Adirondacks before turning to Yellowstone and Grand Canyon. At the heart of this beautifully written book is the tension between what constitutes private and public space in American history, and how rural white and Indigenous Americans have often lived in the borderlands between them.

You can’t make a list like this one and ignore John Wesley Powell, the one-armed geologist-explorer credited with the first descent of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

My beef with this man is that he was a grandiose (if not untalented) writer. He fudged the truth, conflating accounts of two trips into one. Important to a guide, he could be an overbearing leader. This book puts him on the page, warts and all, and puts you right there with him and his crew—moldy bacon, capsized boats, and thunderstorms included.

In this way, as through the canyon’s geological wonders and archaeology, history comes alive. Though I knew the outcome, the writing riveted me to my seat (as you hope to be in Lava Falls, the gorge’s biggest rapid). 

I love a writer who is willing to put his life at risk to solve a mystery. And I love history and biography. The mystery? What happened to Glen and Bessie Hyde, a young couple who vanished on their honeymoon while trying to run the length of the canyon in 1928 in a scow—a boat that looked like a water trough.

Dimock, a Grand Canyon guide and builder of wooden dories, researched this type of craft and, together with his wife, braved the rapids because he thought this would provide clues about the disappearance. Having rowed unwieldy baggage boats in the canyon myself, I emphasized with their plight, and the story of the honeymooners is one guides often tell the clients sitting in camp chairs in the after-dinner circle.  

I once dislocated a shoulder while crossing the canyon’s Thunder River raging with snowmelt; another time, I got lost on the Paria Plateau, separated from my pack, and spent a miserable night in a tee-shirt and shorts while thunder and lightning scared the Bejesus out of me. So, these tales of death and disaster compiled by two canyon veterans cut close to the bone.

They’re not depressing reading, surprisingly. There are accounts of amazing survival, and much can be learned from these cases to avoid getting yourself into trouble. Not something most readers will read cover to cover, but I did and dip into it still on occasion.

I love the artwork: funny, pictograph-style vignettes of the different ways you can die in the canyon (many more than you’d think). 

Nathaniel Farrell Brodie’s Steel on Stone takes readers into Grand Canyon National Park. Here, Brodie worked on trails for eight seasons during brutal summer heat and cold winters. Brodie explores not just the national park in its beauty and danger but also the park’s history, tales from the park, and other adventures. In the end, Steel on Stone beautifully ruminates on home and on Brodie’s love of this landscape.