An Incredible Place
December 6, 2017 -
During my time in high school, I had the chance to participate in multiple backpacking trips through various national parks and monuments in Southern Utah. When I was a junior, I got to visit canyonlands, and as a senior, I was lucky enough to spend a week in Escalante (which is now just one of the many national monuments that is under threat). In light of Trumps recent monument actions, I wanted to share my experiences with you. Below is an excerpt from an essay that I wrote for my travel writing course just a few weeks ago. The prompt for this essay was to write about a personal experience that opened my eyes to a different way of thinking, and instantly, I thought of my multiple experiences in these incredible places. The hardest part of writing this essay actually, was choosing which trip I wanted to write about, as each one impacted me in a different way. Ultimately, I ended up talking about my time in Canyonlands National Park as a junior in high school. This particular trip was split into two sections: a solo portion, and a backpacking portion. I started off the trip by spending two full days camping alone at a location that was assigned to me (which is what this particular portion of the essay is referring to), and then met up with a group of 5 or so other students, as well as two teachers, and we all backpacked through Canyonlands. Both parts of the trip were incredible, and are experiences that I will cherish forever.
I woke up early. It was cool out, as the sun hadn’t even risen completely, and there was something so beautiful about the quietness and stillness that existed that morning. I looked around at the narrow canyon that had frightened me just a day ago, yet now, it seemed so peaceful and still. As I walked around, I found it slightly unsettling to see paw prints, likely from a coyote, all around my site, but I found comfort in reminding myself that the two of us were allowed to coexist. That day, time seemed to stand still. I spent hours organizing little rocks into designs, and sketching figures into the sand, in a desperate attempt escape the moment. My inability to mark the passing of time was beyond uncomfortable to me. Trapped in a timeless prism, I felt suspended in a realm of nothingness. I spent the next hour or so creating a sundial with my tent; something that I relied on constantly throughout the remainder of my solo. In some odd way, this sundial grounded me in existence.
As I explored the landscape, I discovered that if I hiked up a little bit, the narrow canyon opened up. That day I sat on top of a rock and enjoyed one of the most stunning views I’d ever seen. From this spot, I could see the sun rise on the east and illuminate the entire valley, and then set on the west hours later. As I enjoyed this view, I thought back to the people on the plane that I had seen just one day ago. Like these people, I was a passer, and my time here was limited. Upon setting foot in the desert on day one, this place looked barren and uninhabitable to me, but as I looked around, I started to see something else entirely. The desert wasn’t just alive, it was crawling with life. What looked like a dead tree that had been dried up for ages was actually a Utah Juniper; a tree that thrives in the intense heat with little water and is probably older than I am, and what appeared to be mud that was so dehydrated that it was cracking, was in fact cryptobiotic soil; a rare bacteria that grows over the course of thousands of years in the hottest and driest parts of the world. As I turned my head towards the cool breeze that was so refreshing, I saw a bumble bee fly by, the sound of its buzz piercing my eardrum as it passed, and as I looked down on the rock that I was perched on, I noticed a tiny lizard next to me, basking in the hot desert sun. This place that seemed so foreign to me was home to thousands of other species, and in realizing this, I gained a new sense of appreciation for the desert. It no longer seemed so intimidating and threatening; in a weird way, I felt welcome. While I was still an outsider in this foreign land, I was no longer scared of it. As I looked back towards my tent, I noticed that the sun just about lined up with the third corner of it, which meant that it was nearing the end of the day. I hopped off of my rock and headed back towards my tent, realizing that I had been sitting up there, consumed by my thoughts for the better part of the day. I ate the last of my food while it was still light out, and then as the sun began to set, and the valley cooled down, I slipped back into my tent and was asleep before the stars were out.
The timing of this essay is bitterly ironic considering the fact that Trump announced these monument actions just two days ago. In general, I really do try to stray away from political or opinionated topics, as I never want to preach my own beliefs onto my readers, but as someone who has personally traveled to and experienced the beauty of these places, I feel responsible to share my thoughts on this. It’s really hard to explain exactly what this place means to me, because describing its beauty doesn’t even begin to capture the depth of a place like this. Upon setting foot in Escalante, for example, you feel as if you are going back in time. Without the interference of modern day technology, Escalante, as well as all of the other national monuments, are so much more than just a pretty landscape. They carry with them the stories of those who walked the earth thousands of years before us, and although barren and unfamiliar in comparison to our modern world, these places are home to thousands of other species. These national monuments are among some of the few places left in the United States that have been left uninterrupted by mankind, and it breaks my heart to know they are being taken away. In writing this essay, I experienced a surplus of emotions as I reminisced over my time in the desert. This particular place is so near and dear to my heart, and I know that my peers who also had the chance to go on these trips feel the same way. Unfortunately, some of you readers have not had the opportunity to visit these monuments, and now you may never have the chance to experience them in the way that I did.
Below, I’ve attached a link to Patagonia’s website. In addition to having an awesome clothing line, Patagonia uses its platform to educate people about environmental crises, and to have a voice in the movement. If you click “view list”, you can see all of the national monuments that are currently under threat, and sign up to recieve updates and information, as well as join the conversation. I encourage you all to do some research, come up with your own opinion on this matter, and look into how you can help protect and preserve this land. Again, I know that this post strays from what I normally write, but I felt the need to share my thoughts and my love of this place with you.
https://www.patagonia.com/save-our-public-lands.html?zoom=5¢er=40.317756,-94.421097
