Nine kinds of places to sleep, a wood-fired sauna, and one of the darkest skies in the country. We brought the airplane.
Canyonlands is not scenery you drive past. The Needles District sits at the bottom of southeast Utah where the Colorado and the Green rivers come together, and the country around it is cut into mesas, fins and drainages for as far as there is ground. Late in the day the heat comes off it, haze settles into the canyons, and the La Sals hold the last light after the desert floor has gone flat and blue.
There is no dropzone out there. That is the whole reason to go.
MyDive ran this retreat out of Glamping Canyonlands, an off-grid, family-run camp on open desert ground near the park.
It is not a row of identical tents. There are nine different places to sleep and they are genuinely different from each other: classic bell tents with private decks looking at the La Sal Mountains, larger safari tents, a hard-sided casita that sleeps four, a cedar pod with a fenced deck and hammocks, an elevated tent for anyone who wants to bring their own kit, and a barrel with a glass dome set over the bed. Three of the units are built so you can lie in bed and watch the sky.
There is a wood-fired sauna, a communal kitchen, and a private fire pit at every unit. The camp runs off-grid and the owners live on site.
The camp is also the landing area.
A camp is a camp. What makes it a retreat is the operation we bring to it.
The Red Rocket works out of Monticello Airport, ten miles from camp, and MyDive runs the ground transport between the two. So a load goes like this: ride out to Monticello, gear up, load, climb out over the canyon country, and jump back into camp. You fly over the landscape on the way, you land in it, and the van is there for the next one.
For the length of the trip there is an aircraft dedicated to one small group. No manifest queue, no waiting for a turbine to fill, no per-jump price — the jumping is included, and once the operation is running the aim is to keep the airplane moving.
Before anyone travels, the landing area is scouted in person, the alternates are chosen, the permissions are secured and the airspace and operational coordination for the event are completed. On arrival everyone gets a site-specific briefing covering the primary landing area, the alternates and the local hazards. Our ground crew handles the landing area, the wind checks and the packing. A chef travels with the retreat — which is why meals are included on this one and not on every one.
We flew seven loads over the weekend. Jumpers land at the camp itself — it sits on open desert with clear outs in every direction and no obstacles, so anyone who would rather not put it down between the tents has room on all sides.
One of the group arrived with 999 jumps, which made Friday's sunset load his 1000th. He got pied at camp for it the following night, the way the sport insists on.
Saturday's sunset load went up with smoke. Two of the group flew it, trailing pink across the last of the light and coming in over the camp with the canisters still burning.
Between loads: steak frites the first night, shakshouka in the morning, Chilean sea bass at lunch, curry on Saturday. The sauna. The fire pits.
The camp sells private astronomy tours because the stargazing out there is some of the best in the country, and three of its units are built around looking at the sky from bed. There is no town near enough to put a glow on the horizon.
So we jumped into it. Twice.
Portable floodlights go out to mark the landing area, the aircraft flies a load in the dark, and you exit over desert with no ground lights at all and come down onto a lit patch of dirt beside the place you are sleeping. Night jumps are not rare in the sport. Night jumps in sky this dark, landing at your own door, are.
Nobody was in a hurry on this one.
The jumping is included, so there is no stack of jump tickets to burn through and no reason to force a load you do not want. This group took a mix of flying, eating and sitting by the fire, and when Sunday came up clear they were satisfied and nobody wanted another one.
Another group will want to spend the whole weekend in the airplane, and we will fly it that way. Weather and operating conditions shape what is possible either way — which is what “unlimited jumps” actually means, and why we never put a number on it.
We're back at Glamping Canyonlands on May 14–16, 2027. Same camp, same country, longer days and warmer nights than October.
Utah Film Team came out to document the weekend. They shoot adventure and destination work, and they covered this one properly — interviews with the group, footage from the ground, and footage from inside the Red Rocket on exit. A film is coming, and we'll put it up when it's ready.
MyDive runs multi-day skydiving retreats in places that aren't dropzones. We bring our own aircraft, scout and set up the landing area, and handle the lodging, meals and ground logistics so the trip works.
Want to hear when the next one is confirmed? Text JUMP to (720) 615-4800, or leave your number.
Keep reading: Meet the Red Rocket · How a MyDive retreat actually gets built
At Canyonlands: two nights in private glamping accommodation, chef-prepared meals, unlimited skydives during scheduled operations with no per-jump charge, our own aircraft working out of Monticello Airport, ground crew running the landing area, a site-specific safety briefing, and all ground transport between camp and the airport.
The camp has nine unit types — bell tents, safari tents, a lotus tent, a cedar pod, a casita, an elevated tent and a glass-domed barrel — each with a private deck and fire pit. There is a wood-fired sauna and a communal kitchen on site.
The Red Rocket flies from Monticello Airport, about ten miles from camp, and MyDive provides the ground transport. You land back at the camp, which sits on open desert with clear outs in every direction. MyDive scouts the landing area in person and arranges the permissions and airspace coordination for the event before anyone travels.
We flew seven loads across the weekend. The Red Rocket takes five jumpers a load, and guests joined the loads they wanted. Jump numbers always depend on weather, daylight and operating conditions, so no count is ever guaranteed.
We did, twice, with portable floodlights marking the landing area. Night jumping depends on the site, conditions and the operational plan, so it is never guaranteed.
No. Conditions, operational limits and what the group wants shape every weekend.
May 14–16, 2027. See the retreat and book, or text JUMP to (720) 615-4800 to hear about new dates as they're confirmed.
