It’s a curious sight for sure. Warm sun cascading on white donkeys standing on a tropical shoreline—something only seen in travel calendars on a local Barnes and Noble shelf.

February 3–6, 2025

Sometimes, the journey to and from a national park feels just as long as the time spent in the park, and the remote location of Virgin Islands in the Caribbean waters bears no exception. We leave Denver International Airport at midnight, catching a red-eye flight through Newark, New Jersey, and on down to the island of St. Thomas. We land in the island city of Charlotte Amalie. However, we are not quite at the park yet. Renting a car at the airport we drive the crowded narrow streets up and down the island to Red Hook, a small port town on the east coast. Here we wait in line for the Love City Ferry to load our car and sail another 30–40 minutes east to the island of St. John.

The ferry is packed with cars each swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the waves. It’s a good thing parked cars have good brakes. Most people stay within their vehicle, but we step out and explore the deck catching our first sights of the island of St. John. Somewhere on that island is our home for the next three nights. Docking in Cruz Bay, we unload the car and gather our surroundings. By this time, it’s close to 3 p.m. and after a quick stop in the Visitor Center begin driving to the park a mere ten minutes away.

We are staying at the Cinnamon Bay Campground and on the way scout out each pull off along the coast. It seems this island is in no short supply of gorgeous tropical beaches. We pass Hawksnest Bay, Denis Bay, Jumbie Beach, Trunk Bay, and finally arrive at Cinnamon Bay, only three miles in. We check in and set up camp at site G39, a nice little raised platform for our tent with a complimentary tarp canopy. Starved, we grab a quick bite from our stash of sack lunches and head out to explore the beaches. On our way, we run into two wild donkeys lazily grazing on Cinnamon Bay Beach. It’s a curious sight for sure. Warm sun cascading on white donkeys standing on a tropical shoreline—something only seen in travel calendars at a local Barnes and Noble.

Denis Bay comes highly recommended as it is a quieter, more remote beach. And it certainly lives up to expectations. One of a handful of people on the shore, we experience our first taste of white sand and turquoise waters. A lone coconut palm branches out from the forest to greet us in photogenic fashion. Several soldier crabs scuttle about their business. Waves lap up against the shore. After spending a few relaxing moments here we head back to the car.

From the parking lot is a short walk to Peace Hill, a great viewpoint for Hawksnest Bay. Remnants of a giant Dutch windmill stands guard on the hill fully open to exploration. Anole lizards dart to and fro across the stonework. With the sun close to the horizon, we climb in the car and drive back down the road to a pull off overlooking Trunk Bay and Trunk Cay, the perfect setup to catch the sun setting on along the coastline. The foliage turns golden and the clouds a peachy pink. Then suddenly the island is swallowed in shadow as the equatorial sun sets quickly.

Returning to camp, we stroll the now deserted Cinnamon Bay Beach as stars pop out overhead. The moon illuminates the puffy clouds a soft white against the deep blue sky. Only the first day on the island and already a great first impression.

Forgetting to adjust our clocks to the timezone, we wake up late and nearly miss sunrise. Quickly changing plans, we decide we have just enough time to scoot down the road to the Annaberg Historic District and catch sunrise over the ruins. Clearly the first ones on the trail, a herd of island deer spook at our approaching footsteps. The ruin site is quiet and peaceful. The iconic 40-foot tall Annaberg Windmill is flanked by the rest of the sugar factory, all heaps of stone footprints. We curiously explore the grounds imagining the plantation was state-of-the-art at one point in time.

With much of the morning still open, we opt to drive up Centerline Road to the Reef Bay Trailhead, the start of a 2.5 mile trek down to the coast through the island’s interior rainforest. While the beaches are certainly a main attraction for visitors, the Reef Bay Trail is a highlight for us. Palm fronds and mango trees tower over us filtering the morning light in shades of emerald and gold. About 1.5 miles down the trail, we take a short spur trail to a hidden waterfall featuring pre-Columbian petroglyphs. It’s amazing the etchings have lasted this long under the constant scrutiny of water and sun. Conscious of our entirely uphill ascent back to the car in the growing humidity, we choose to turn around at this point and find some cooler afternoon activities.

Back at Cinnamon Bay Beach, we grab lunch and spread out on the sand, drinking up the ocean breeze. Curious about the reefs further out we rent a kayak for an hour and paddle off shore to Cinnamon Cay. With pristine water, we can make out through the waves glimpses of fish and coral beneath our watercraft. It was rumored a nurse shark was patrolling this portion of reef earlier in the day, but we see no signs of it. Returning the kayak to shore we are met with a spectacular sight. This is the first time we see the island from the water and the scene is breathtaking. A lush wall of green ridges swoops down to electric blue waters in an impenetrable jungle of tyre palms and gumbo limbo trees waving their leaves in the breeze, with a thin band of white sand holding it all together like a belt—a true return to Eden. Stunned by the beauty we row back ashore and enjoy the rest of the afternoon dipping in the temperate water to cool off and clean up.

As evening nears, clouds move in from the southeast. We try to make the most of sunset, but clouds obstruct the sun so we turn in early for the night and fall asleep to the sound of rain gently pattering the tarp.

The following morning, we wake up on time and ready to drive across the island to Ram Head, the southernmost point of the park. Though we are the only ones on the road, the drive still takes concentration as we wind up and down, in and out, these brutal island roads in the dark. We park at Saltpond Bay just as the sky grows light. Ram Head is 1.5 miles away and unsure of how quickly the sun will rise, we set off on a quick pace. The trail crosses two beach heads and rises to a final point on the peninsula, Ram Head. We make it just in time. The sun begins to crest the horizon through patches of last night’s clouds. The view is incredible. From here, we have a fisheye view of the entire island before us and a full unobstructed view of the Caribbean Sea behind us. Cacti arms catch the light with their needles as the island wakens to a new day.

A couple just behind us on the trail ascends Ram Head and asks if we lost a key on the trail. Remembering I zipped the car key in my pocket, I politely deny their inquiry and return to the sunrise. As I do, I instinctively feel for the key in my pocket. . . empty. It’s completely empty. But I know I zipped it in there. I feel around and discover a hole in my pocket. Eating humble pie I return to the hikers and apologize, admitting my key is lost. Learning where they found it and placed it on the trail, I jaunt back to recover the key. And there it is, just as they described. Grateful for their vigilance, I return back and announce the key is indeed mine. We spend the morning contemplating just how devastating our day would turn out had they not been hiking behind us, nor seen the key at all! It’s little moments of undeserved grace like this that adds to the park experience.

With newfound gratitude for our car, we drive back to the campground and tour the near Cinnamon Bay Loop Trail, another short stroll through danish sugar mill ruins before spending the afternoon back at Denis Bay, hoping for a delicious sunset. Arriving late afternoon, we have the beach largely to ourselves. We explore the coast wading into the water, waiting for the sun to set. Soon the sky grows orange and the clouds golden. The palm trees silhouette against the sky in iconic fashion. The sun dips below the horizon beckoning on blue hour. The scene turns purple as we hike back up to the car, replete with satisfaction.

Our final day in the park is short as we must pack up and head out to make our flight out of St. Thomas. We drive up Centerline Road again and pick out a decent viewpoint to watch the sun rise over the island one last time. Our time on the island was full and yet we feel there is much to still be explored. The Underwater Trail of Trunk Bay, the elusive green iguanas, the infamous food at Maho Bay all leave us—as with all national parks—wishing for more time.