What We’ve Lost on the Grand Canyon’s North Rim

I don’t remember the first time I saw the Grand Canyon. But I do remember, with vivid detail, every visit to the canyon’s North Rim.

For a decade, I was lucky to live just 80 miles from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and visited often, sometimes on a whim to catch a brewing monsoon and some trips planned months in advance, like a trek through the ancient and unending layers of rock down to Phantom Ranch.

Over time, those visits started to blend together. But the North Rim? That was rare.

The North Rim is the same park, the same canyon, but in many ways, it’s a different world. It sits on the Kaibab Plateau, rising more than a thousand feet higher than the South Rim. If you want the canyon’s most dramatic vantage point, this is where to go.

Even the squirrels here are different. Long ago, the canyon split the habitat in two, and Abert’s squirrels stayed on the South Rim, while the Kaibab squirrel evolved here. It’s the only place on Earth to find this species, with its tufted ears and white tail.

To get to this remote side of the park, travelers take Highway 89 through the Navajo Nation and toward the pink hue of the Vermilion Cliffs. The road passes through Lees Ferry, where the Grand Canyon begins, and where river rafters launch into the Colorado River. From there, the landscape rises out of the desert into the ponderosa forest.

Travelers then stop at Jacob Lake before entering the park. And I say stop because no one drives through without getting the world-famous cookies from the Jacob Lake Inn.

Mention the North Rim to anyone who has been there, and the response is nearly always the same. “You stopped for cookies, right?”

Jacob Lake is the gateway to the North Rim. It’s a small community, where park visitors stop to fill up on water and gas, check in with one last bar of cell service, and meet up before heading into the park. It’s been that way for more than a hundred years, since it was founded in 1923 to serve visitors on their way to the canyon.

Now, with the park closed for the rest of the season and all reservations canceled, it’s serving as a home base for the fire crews.

On Sunday, July 13, the Dragon Bravo Fire tore through the North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park. Started by lightning, it destroyed over 70 historic buildings, including dozens of visitor cabins, employee homes and the iconic Grand Canyon Lodge.

It was heartbreaking to hear news of the fire and the loss of historic buildings. The calls and texts started flying, “Did you hear?” It is a shared loss for so many people.

Two hundred employees have been displaced from their housing, and many lost homes and belongings. Families who had planned to visit for months — even years — had their long-awaited summer trips canceled in an instant.

The loss is real. But so is the expertise and dedication of the National Park Service, with some of the best historians and preservation experts we have. They know how to restore what we’ve lost.

This was a community — a place people returned to, season after season. And the historic Grand Canyon Lodge was its anchor.

The lodge was built in 1927, guided by the vision of then-National Park Service Director Stephen Mather to create rustic architecture that would blend into the landscape and feel like it was an extension of the canyon itself. Built from Kaibab limestone and ponderosa pine timber, it was one of the great historic lodges of the National Park System.

But beyond the materials, one step inside and you’d know — that lodge was built for the view. The main room opened up to a wall of windows, creating a living art gallery that framed the canyon beyond.

One of the bucket list experiences for many hikers is the infamous rim-to-rim hike, a grueling 24-mile trip across the canyon marked on each side by miles of steep switchbacks that begin and end at the historic lodges on both sides of the canyon. I was lucky enough to do the hike once with my partner’s family, all eight of us setting out before sunrise and emerging just after sunset. The night before, we stayed in the North Rim’s historic cabins for good rest before the challenge.

Places like these aren’t just buildings. They hold pieces of our collective stories, where generations have gathered and where the simple act of sharing a meal or watching a sunset is marked with an awe that arrives without asking. And that’s what carves it into our memory.

In the midst of all that was lost, the most important thing was not. The National Park Service played a critical role in the emergency response, acting with urgency and care in crisis. After park staff quickly and safely evacuated visitors from the canyon and surrounding areas, no loss of life or injuries have been reported.

What happened at the North Rim is not an isolated event. It’s part of a broader pattern driven by a changing climate. By 2050, the American West could see a 200% to 600% increase in the number of acres burned by wildfires each year.

It’s become a familiar refrain that summers are getting hotter and drier, and wildfire seasons are growing longer, more intense and less predictable. Here in North America, climate change has already extended fire season by nearly two months. In national parks, the single most important factor in an increase in burned areas since the 1980s is climate change.

Behind every wildfire in a national park is a massive all-hands-on-deck response effort, and climate change is making that work harder every year. National parks staff whose jobs don’t necessarily have “fire” in the title, from logistics teams to maintenance staff to scientists to seasonal workers, become essential to emergency response.

Effective wildfire response depends on adequate staffing across departments, and not just fire crews. But with one in four staff missing from the Park Service since the Trump administration took office, parks are being stretched to a breaking point.

And yet, instead of expanding staff and resources to meet the moment, Congress is doing the opposite. Earlier this month, Congress passed the so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill” that clawed back $267 million in funding for national park staffing. Recently, the House proposed slashing another $176 million from the Park Service.

These devastating cuts come at a time when wildfire seasons are growing longer, staff vacancies remain high, and our parks are already stretched to their limits.

Already this summer, fires have closed the North Rim of Grand Canyon and all of Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park to visitors, and gateway communities like Jacob Lake feel that impact immediately. Parks are a lifeline for these remote corners of the country.

The loss is real. But so is the expertise and dedication of the Park Service, with some of the best historians and preservation experts we have. They know these buildings, the history and how to restore what we’ve lost. The National Parks Conservation Association is committed to supporting the road to recovery, not just for the historic buildings, but for the people and places that remain.

The Grand Canyon is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. And the North Rim, the canyon’s quieter side, still holds stories worth telling and rebuilding.