I've been contemplating this post for quite awhile and will attempt to come off as inspirational rather than condescending but no promises as this is a blog and I don't have an editor. When we decided to take this trip, it was obvious to the three of us (Keira was included in this particular conversation) that we would spend most of our days outside using our own two or four feet to motor us along and see the beauty of this country. We never thought to install a TV in the camper (I hit my head enough on the lights...) or to create a list of things to drive past and say we'd seen. Our list consisted of various state and national parks, homes of family and friends, maybe a sports game or two, an odd prison here and there (more on that in a future blog) and a dose of animal shelter visits to feed my addiction.
We knew we'd drive a lot to get to all these places but we never considered just driving through them. So I have to admit that I am dismayed to see that the majority of tourists
just drive through parks. How do I know this? Because our country is set up to do just that. Drive. And stare. Pull over. And stare. And then drive to lunch. I wish I understood it because it would make it easier to watch hoards of people miss out on the real beauty. We had parked at "Inspiration Point" in Yellowstone's Grand Canyon to start a ten mile out and back hike of the rim. We walked down to the point where a tourist was waiting for her picture to be taken. She then turned to her husband complaining because there wasn't much a view. She was right. The view was (relatively) terrible.
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| The view from "Inspiration Point" complete with metal bars. |
Especially compared to this view a mere 1/4 mile down the trail.
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| Or this unobstructed view. Your choice. |
While we clearly gravitate toward hiking and running, I'm pleased to see people doing any range of things in the wild as long as it gets them out of their car. Kayaking, canoeing, fly fishing, rock climbing, bird watching, cycling (it takes some major balls to cycle past a bison), horseback riding, etc. When I see people doing
these things, it fills me up because I know they aren't just looking at a landscape or an animal. They are feeling it.
It becomes very clear to me the people who are there to see a wild animal and get that photo no matter what it takes and those who want to see them behaving normally in their original habitat and to experience the awe that comes with watching a pack of wolves traverse a valley. I am an avid photographer but my desire for a decent picture is never overwhelmed by the need to just get a little closer. (that's what zoom lenses are for people...) Despite my hilarious sprint from bison a few weeks ago, they were, in fact, quite a distance away when I panicked.
This picture was at a ranger's station labeled "Bad Idea"
There is nothing like getting up on a Tuesday morning for your regular trail run in your local town forest and running into a black bear. I drove to work that day giddy with a secret, looking out my car window at others and thinking, "enjoy your coffee because
I ran away from a bear today". Or watching your dog navigate a pack of coyotes who just happened to be on the trail a few months later. Or that incredible chill in the air in early October when you're running on a trail of leaves and the equally moving experience of cross-country skiing on those same trails after a major snowstorm leaves all the trees a perfect white.
Why wouldn't you go here?
Or here.
While it's frustrating to watch others pass up all these opportunities, it's equally annoying that we can't get the information we need because our culture caters to them. We asked a friendly guy at an RV park if there were any trails within five miles. His reply: "Like, so you can take your ATV"? Uhh, no, so we can run with our dog. (He didn't know of any so we ran a few blocks to the local track and did sprints.)
Others have kindly given us a map and pointed out areas they've "heard of" but advised we drive there because the trail is over a mile away. Uhh, actually we can handle the mile there and the hike and then walk back but thank you for your concern.
While we expected some campgrounds to start closing this time of year, we were frustrated to learn that the ones chosen are the ones most used by hikers and not RVer's. Written off as a "result of sequestration" it seems odd that the primitive campground with a pit toilet and no showers really saved the budget. So we stayed in one that required a 45 minute drive to start our hikes. (Beautiful drives I'll admit). Hikes we only knew about because we were encouraged to buy a trail map from the handy visitor store because Yellowstone doesn't just give out maps for hikers. (they have plenty of free guides on the tourist attractions) This dichotomy of resources would not exist if the majority of visitors were there to leave the road and enter the woods.
Even the bears are in on it. After ten days of seeking out remote trails in the hopes of spotting one (from a safe distance of course), it was only on our last day driving through the park on our way out that we saw a Grizzly followed twenty minutes later by a Black bear mom and her cubs. Catering to the drivies and not the walkies.
We wouldn't have bothered walking ten miles into the wilderness if we knew you were at a parking lot.
I get it. It's not always fun to move your body. In fact sometimes, it plain sucks. Especially in the beginning. I've never struggled with weight but I wasn't particularly active seven years ago. I started walking my dog on a trail near my house every morning. About a mile or two; just walking. Then I started running (very slowly) and Hated.Every.Step. I couldn't make it a mile without getting stomach cramps and heaving. So I did what I always do when I hate something and I tested myself. Cue my first 5K when I had never run more than a mile. I walked the whole thing with a cramp that incapacitated me. Seven years later and, on most days, I feel good on a double digit hike or a four mile run.
I repeat,
most days. Some days are awful and my body (or my head) is just not there.
Fun isn't always fun. A concept that I think is hard to swallow in our culture of constant entertainment and ease. It's not always about how we feel physically, it's about waiting for the reward to come to you. Confidence that you can walk into the woods alone and come out the other side, a new level of patience (nothing tests your patience like nature), a reverence and sheer awe at a random sunrise or deer crossing the path and a calm, a real calm that doesn't come from sitting on your couch. The old adage is true that one never regrets going out for that ______ (run, hike, etc.)
While this stereotype of the lazy American makes me sad, I have a real concern for what it's doing on a big picture level. Because the kids I see hiking in the woods with their parents are vastly different from the kids I see screaming at the visitor center for candy. I realize that all kids have temper tantrums but it can't be a coincidence that the
toddlers I see in our parks aren't screaming while the eight year olds are moping. Instead they're asking really hilarious questions like, "mom, what kind of poop is that?". (Author's note: I have many friends who are parents. Great parents at that whose children may not go camping regularly but who are always seen running around outside, usually barefoot and I believe that does the trick as well.)
And where is our generation in all of this? Where are the dinks (double income no kids)? We've seen two types of tourists in the parks - the retirees enjoying their well-deserved time off and the parents trying to expose their kids to something new (yay you!). What we haven't seen are American singles or couples out hiking. We see plenty of European couples as it seems travel is more accepted in their culture and, more importantly, time off from work to do so.
As I'm an animal person, you've also signed up to hear my diatribe about pets. It's no surprise that the majority of cats and dogs in this country are not only overweight but
obese and as a shelter person, I was also reminded on a weekly basis that many of the dog breeds we created to do jobs for us just don't fit into the average American's life anymore. People are still surprised that their lab is so energetic. (Educational moment: Labs and Goldens are retrievers and were bred to wait for us to shoot birds and then run and swim for long distances to retrieve said bird for our dinner). So when we adopt them and resign them to a life on the couch with us, it has effects. Sure, they look happy (and all are happy to be out of a shelter) because they adjust to this new life the same we do by napping the day away because of their generalized fatigue.
Keira enjoying a day of unstructured play where a leash doesn't dictate where she goes.
I had to continually remind myself at work that my idea of a "normal" exercise routine for a dog is not the normal for most people. It was such a balance trying to educate people on their pets' exercise needs (this goes for most cats too) while trying not to scare off everyone but the marathon runners and the dog nerds who can't wait to spend hours with their new pet.
It's not all about exercise either. It's about
unstructured play. (my new favorite phrase) And we've lost it as a culture. Although I'm a
very young woman, I happen to still be part of the culture that stayed out until it got dark and played sports in the backyard with the neighborhood kids. I walked to school almost everyday - a few miles with a good friend and walked back rain or shine from the time I was in elementary school. Over the past few years, I saw kids being picked up by the bus on our street. We lived 3/4 of a mile from the high school. Really? Because there aren't any sidewalks? And I think I understand the safety concerns but there is now plenty of research supporting the fact that we are creating a culture of people who cannot rely on their own experiences and instead dive into their cell phones for answers.
The same applies to our dogs. I know there are
plenty of good reasons to keep your dog on a leash and there are some who truly need to be managed and contained. But Keira isn't one of them and it's too rewarding for me to watch Keira sprint through the woods to stop me even though I know we could meet one of those "should be contained" dogs anyday. I make educated decisions about where it's safe for her to go and where it's not. Save for a mud slide into a river, we've been fairly successful.
Unstructured play for both dog and child. Success!
I believe those experiences for an animal or a child bring a mix of confidence, healthy fear and routine checking in with their parents for guidance. One of my most powerful moments with Keira happened on a trail. We had just started the run when I heard her yelp. My girl is no wuss so I took her seriously. She limped back to me, held up her paw, I looked it over seeing nothing immediately wrong and said, "do you want to go home or do you want to keep going?". She turned around and sprinted off - no limp in sight. Now, I don't claim she understood my question but I do think that she has enough confidence and experience at this point to know how much she needs me and what she can handle herself. For this, I'm very proud of the dog she is today - vastly different from the insecure dog I saw at the shelter.
Jim is a pro at unstructured play. "I just want to see what's over this hill" and Keira is the queen of it so I'm fortunate to be reminded of this attitude everyday. While visiting my family last month, I looked over to see my Uncle Rob holding a giant boulder while standing in the lake. He was examining it carefully. I turned to Jim who was also watching and we simultaneously said, "unstructured play". Uncle Rob knows how to rock (pun intended) a day at the beach.
The good news is at least people are flocking to our state and national parks. Getting away from the daily grind and breathing in some fresh air when they step out of their car to see a view. And those people will likely leave with a reverence for the open spaces that are protected in this country - the big and the tiny. I did not spot any wolves while in Yellowstone but I didn't need to. I just need to know that they are out there, doing wolf things without much interference from us.
So the next time you travel, do me a small favor. Park at the destination to see that view that's been crafted for you and a million other people and then follow the trail just 100 feet in either direction and see what happens.
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