Logan Canyon, the dams to the summit.

The Wind Caves are the canyon's signature short hike, and the destination earns the effort: a triple-arch cavern weathered out of the limestone high on the north wall, sometimes called the Witch's Castle, with hollows you can stand inside and a big view back down the canyon. It is a moderate climb, not a walk. Published figures vary a little, but a fair number is about 3.7 miles round trip with roughly 1,000 feet of gain, and most people spend two to three hours on it. The trailhead is about 5 miles up US-89 near the Guinavah-Malibu campground, on the left as you drive up-canyon.

The formation across the canyon is the China Wall, a long, pale limestone rampart that the Wind Caves trail looks straight out at, and the two together explain the geology of the whole canyon: this is layered sedimentary rock, tilted and carved, not the granite of the high Wasatch. The trail crosses the Logan River early on and then switchbacks up the exposed slope, so it bakes in afternoon sun. It is popular and well worn, which makes it a good first canyon hike, but the footing near the arches is uneven and the drop-offs are real.

Near the top of a long ridge above the canyon stands a Rocky Mountain juniper that was old when the Anglo-Saxons were new. For years it was called 3,000 years old; careful measurement has walked that back to something closer to 1,500, which still makes it one of the oldest known junipers of its kind. The tree is about 40 feet tall and broad at the base, gnarled, half-alive and half-silvered, and it has been a Cache Valley pilgrimage for a century. Reaching it is the point and the price: this is a real hike, not a pullout.

The standard route starts at the Wood Camp trailhead, about 10 miles up US-89, and runs roughly 9 to 11 miles round trip with about 1,900 feet of climbing, ending in a small loop around the tree. Plan on most of a day, carry water and food, and start early in summer to beat the heat on the exposed upper slopes. The trail is well built and steady rather than brutal, but the mileage is honest, and the altitude adds up. The reward at the top is quiet, a huge view, and a living thing that predates the whole idea of Utah.

About 17 miles up the canyon, near mile marker 477, a spring pours out of the rock right beside US-89, and it has fooled people for more than a hundred years. It was named for Thomas E. Ricks, whose family settled Cache Valley in the 1850s, and for generations travelers filled jugs and barrels here, certain they were drinking pure water from a deep mountain aquifer. They were not. Hydrology studies showed the spring is Logan River water that sinks underground upstream and re-emerges at this spot, which means it can carry whatever the river carries, and plenty of jug-fillers went home with giardia to prove it.

Today a short paved path leads to interpretive signs that tell that story and warn you not to drink the water, and that honest little correction is the whole reason to stop. It is a five-minute walk, free, and a good leg-stretch on a long drive, especially paired with the fact that the flow itself rises and falls with the river rather than staying steady like a true spring. Look, read the sign, take a photo of the water coming out of solid rock, and keep your bottle capped.

The Logan River runs the length of the canyon, and it is not a decorative one. It is one of the region's celebrated trout streams, holding Bonneville cutthroat, brown trout, rainbows, and whitefish along miles of accessible roadside water, with pullouts the whole way up. Down at the bottom, in the first few miles above town, the river is stepped by three small impoundments that everyone in Cache Valley just calls First, Second, and Third Dam. They are the canyon's everyday front porch: shade, grass, picnic tables, easy river access, and fishing that is stocked and gentle enough for kids.

First Dam, right at the canyon mouth about a mile and a half from downtown Logan, doubles as a city park where people wade, paddle, and picnic under big trees; the in-town park side of it belongs to Logan's own guide, and this page picks the river up as it heads upstream. Second Dam, a bit farther up, is the classic shady picnic spot with a footbridge and trail access. Third Dam sits higher still near the campgrounds, quieter and better for still-water and early-morning fly fishing. A Utah license is all you need to fish any of them.

About 6 miles up the canyon, a side drainage called Right Hand Fork branches off to the south, and it is the quieter, gentler counterpoint to the big-name hikes. A dirt road follows the Right Hand Fork of the Logan River up through meadows and forest, and a riverside trail climbs alongside it at an easy grade, past cold water, beaver dams, and thick green vegetation. In autumn the maples at the junction and up the fork flare red and orange, which makes this one of the most photographed corners of the whole byway when the leaves turn, usually late September into October.

It is also good moose country. The wet bottoms and willows along the fork are exactly what moose like, and quiet early mornings are the time to spot one, from a respectful distance. The area draws hikers, horse riders, and mountain bikers because the grades are forgiving, and it works as a short leg-stretch or a longer ramble depending on how far up you go. There are no fees and no services; it is a park-and-walk side trip off the main canyon.

Unlike some canyons, this one lets you stay the night close to the road. The Forest Service runs a string of developed campgrounds along the lower Logan River, and Guinavah-Malibu, about 5 miles up on the banks of the river, is the biggest and best known, with family sites and group areas that hold up to about 100 people. Spring Hollow, Lodge, Bridger, and others sit nearby in the same first several miles, so the lower canyon is essentially a corridor of riverside camping from late spring into mid-September, most of it reservable through Recreation.gov.

The appeal is simple: shade, the sound of the river, and marquee hikes like the Wind Caves starting almost from your tent. The catch is that summer weekends book out, and individual campgrounds close from year to year for maintenance or construction, so a spot you counted on may be gated. The way to avoid a bad surprise is to reserve ahead in season and to confirm the current status of your target campground with the Logan Ranger District before you load the car.

The canyon does not so much end as crest. Around 30 miles up, US-89 tops out at Bear Lake Summit, about 7,800 feet, the high point of the whole byway and the divide between the Logan River drainage behind you and the Bear Lake basin ahead. Somewhere up near the top a spur road turns off toward Beaver Mountain, the small ski hill up the canyon that gets its own page here; on this drive it is just a sign you pass. The country opens up at the summit, and then the payoff arrives: a short way past the crest, the byway reaches an overlook and the whole of Bear Lake spreads out below, an improbable turquoise slab straddling the Utah and Idaho line.

From the overlook the road drops fast and steep down the east side toward Garden City on the shore. That descent is where the summit's elevation shows itself in winter, so take the grade slow when it is icy. This page hands off right here, at the overlook: the lake itself, its beaches, its towns, and the famous turquoise water are the subject of the Bear Lake page. What Logan Canyon gives you is the climb, the crest, and the first look. Where you go from the bottom of the hill is the next guide over.