Trailhead to Toadstools: Exploring Kanab's Strangest Formations

Hiking the Toadstool Hoodoos Trail in Grand Staircase–Escalante feels like stepping into a desert dreamscape where geology takes center stage. The short, easy path winds through sandy washes and layered cliffs, each step revealing more of the stark beauty carved by time. Just under a mile in, the trail delivers its showpiece: a striking hoodoo of Navajo Sandstone, a massive caprock perfectly balanced on a slender pedestal, standing like a natural monument against the sky. It’s a hike that’s less about distance and more about wonder—accessible, photogenic, and unforgettable, especially in the shifting light of sunrise or sunset.

Trailhead elevation 4,457'

Water none

Don't miss sunrise or sunset

Hiking the Toadstool Hoodoos

It’s our last evening in Kanab, and dad and I are off to squeeze in one more hike. After a day of rain, the skies finally begin to break, and we gamble on catching a sunset forty-five minutes away along the Toadstool Hoodoos Trail in Grand Staircase–Escalante. We roll up to the trailhead with an hour to spare, with that familiar excitement of chasing light together.

The trail leads us north into a landscape that feels like walking through the pages of Earth’s geologic diary—layers of Dakota, Entrada, and Carmel layers rising around us like weathered monuments. A couple from Virginia pauses to ask if Dad is some famous photographer from Page—maybe it’s the tripod slung over my shoulder, or maybe it’s just the way he carries himself out here, like he belongs in the wild. We chat, trade a few words about the beauty around us, and then press on.

Soon the path drops into a sandy wash, twisting and turning as it pulls us closer toward the hoodoos.

A little more than three quarters of a mile into the stroll, we’re face-to-face with the star of the hike: an eye-catching toadstool hoodoo, twenty feet of Navajo Sandstone balanced like a crown on its pedestal.

As we learned many years ago, these hoodoos were formed through a process of erosion that took place over millions of years. They consist of soft sandstone layers topped by harder, more resistant rock caps. Rain, wind, and temperature fluctuations gradually wore away the softer sandstone beneath the caprock, carving out slender columns and creating the “mushroom-like” shapes that resemble toadstools. The harder caprock protects the underlying stone from eroding as quickly, which is why the hoodoos maintain their distinctive shapes while the surrounding landscape continues to wear down.

We take a few photos, then I send my drone up, capturing the hoodoo from angles no human eye could reach.

The clouds don't seem like they'll give way for the Milky Way, but it doesn’t matter. Instead, we wander the formations, watching as the last light of day paints the hoodoo’s western face in soft, glowing gold. For a few minutes, the world is utterly still—just me, my dad, and this improbable stone giant standing against the coming night.

When the sun finally surrenders to the horizon, we make our way back through the fading light, trading the desert’s stillness for burgers and beer back in Kanab. It's an easy hike and dad and I are happy that we finally got around to checking it out.

Another night, another memory—one more thread woven into the long, rich tapestry of adventures with my old man. Tomorrow, we'll head out to St George, ready for more trails, more laughs, and more moments I know I’ll carry forever.