If you ask people around Zion National Park about rockhounding, they might mention the junk wood that is found on some of the mesas. Rockville Bench, above the neighboring town of Rockville, used to have a lot of it until they turned it into a subdivision. One of the rock shops in Springdale, at the entrance to the Park, acquired a truckload of junk wood recently from somewhere. And everybody who has lived here for a few decades has a small pile … or sometimes a large pile … in their back yard. Except me. Since I inherited a few hundred pounds of petrified wood from my dad, I didn’t feel the need to even look for it.
There are rocks a little more distant from Zion Canyon. My dad never rockhounded this far south so I don’t know much about them. A well-known septarian is found near Orderville over on highway 89. Indian Blanket jasper from Holt Canyon just outside of Enterprise has become popular recently.
Few locals even know about Zion Canyon Agate … and for a good reason. There’s very little of it. It’s usually illegal to collect what little there is because it’s inside the Park.
I do have a few pieces – also for a good reason. I own property right next to the Park and it IS legal to collect on your own private land.
I believe that this agate comes out of the Petrified Forest member of the Chinle Formation in Zion Canyon. It’s associated with the colorful bentonite that can be found in the canyon. The locals call it “blue clay” and it’s a nightmare for developers because it’s an expansible clay that will break up the foundation of your house if you are foolish enough to try building on top of it. You have to either sink piles deep into the ground or replace it with more solid material. Either one costs a lot of money. (My house is built on an “ancient landslide” that is quite deep. No problem.)
Right after I bought my property, I stood right in the center of where I planned for the house to be built to dream about it. Probably because my dad trained me that way from childhood, I checked out the ground where I was standing and there was a rock that I recognized immediately as agate. I pestered my dad for months until he finally polished it for me and I was able to make a bolo tie for myself.
My dad was getting along in years. His eyesight was starting to fade and it was hard for him to do that kind of work. I think this rock was the very last one he ever polished.