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| CulturalTravels.com - Home | More National Parks |
Volume 6, February 2004 |
ISSN 1538-893X |
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America’s Next National Parks? |
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The heyday of national park creation is a few years behind
us. In 1980, Jimmy Carter signed into existence several gigantic parks
in Alaska, while Ronald Reagan later added Great Basin, Gates of the
Arctic and Glacier Bay to the array.
Currently, there are no new proposals for national parks on
the table. The reasons why vary. First, there’s the disgracefully low level of annual
funding for already existing parks that spans several recent
presidential administrations. Nobody knows how we’d pay to build
infrastructure for any new parks or administer them when we can’t even
properly care for the ones already here. Another reason: Seemingly all the prime candidates for
national park status have already been protected, either as parks,
national monuments or wilderness areas. Still, are there any places left in the Lower 48 states that
have been “missed,” that would make splendid national parks? We think so. In fact, there are four places we say would make wonderful new parks. They fall short of the ideal in the sense that they’re not as pristine as the great landscapes we had the foresight to protect earlier in our history. To one degree or another, each of them has been settled in and used for commercial purposes – although not heavily enough to mar their beauty in any unalterable way. With a diligent application of flexibility and common sense,
we could add to them the elite list of protected places. It would mean
grandfathering in their more benign or established human uses, but as
the Europeans have learned with their national parks, there’s no need
to treat the human part of an ecology as a foe. (For a discussion on two
significant European national parks that incorporate and protect human
ecology, see our September 2002 article on Gran Paradiso and Vanoise
national parks) The people and enterprises that would remain in place would
constitute major elements of the infrastructure necessary for a fully
functioning park. These are our four nominees: San Juan Mountains,
Southwestern Colorado (See: “The Million Dollar Highway,” May 2002) Dimensions and Size: The park and protected areas would
extend from Ouray on the north and Telluride on the west, south along
the Uncompaghre River, and then jump east to encompass the Weminuche
Wilderness Area. About 1,000 square miles.
Drawbacks: Some lingering environmental
damage from mining; extensive use of high-country areas by 4-wheel
drivers; large sections of private lands in the heart of the range,
including the key town of Silverton.
Mitigations: Efforts could be made to include Silverton and environs in the park or in an adjoining preserve, with tax incentives to encourage such an affiliation. Congress could create a second category of national park that recognizes certain established or prior uses and does not attempt to ban them outright. Why Do it: These are Colorado’s biggest, steepest and most remote mountains, tucked into the state’s southwest corner, far away from major cities or easy Interstate access. Locals often refer to the San Juans as “The Switzerland of
America,” and there are places in the range where peaks rear out of
the ground, sans foothills, like the precipitous peaks of the Alps. Over the years, as mining has played out, the San Juans have
become a Mecca for four-wheelers. Alpine dirt roads, some of them at
elevations above 13,000 feet, lace the back country and present some of
the greatest driving challenges to be found in the lower 48 states. (To get from the beautiful old Victorian mining town of Ouray
to Telluride, you can take a leisurely 62-mile drive that goes around
the San Juans, skirting their base. Or you can take the 18-mile Imogene
Pass road that crests 4,000 above Telluride, nestled far below in its
box canyon. The view looks well beyond the town, west into Utah and the
Manti-La Sal Mountains near Arches and Canyonlands national parks.) For more conventional drivers, the scenic heart of the San
Juans is the 23-mile stretch along the “Million Dollar Highway”
between Silverton (9,300 feet) and Ouray (7,800 feet). The mountains are
incredibly steep, and the reddish-colored canyon of Uncompaghre River is
one of the great unsung defiles in North America. It is a tribute to the
San Juans’ isolation that this canyon hasn’t received more attention
from nature writers and photographers. We think the more conventional uses of a national park –
hiking, camping, wilderness preservation – can co-exist with
four-wheel driving in our proposed park. Alaska’s combination national
park/preserves serve as a helpful example here: National parks protect
all wilderness aspects of an area, while contiguous preserves, which
take into account prior human claims and uses, allow for some forms of
economic activity even as they protect important scenic and biological
elements. Central California Coast Dimensions and Size: From Point Sur in the north south
60 miles along the coast to Salmon Creek; east to include the Ventana
and Silver Peak wilderness areas, as well as adjoining parts of Los
Padres National Forest; annex Hunter-Liggett Military Reservation to
preserve California’s most magnificent remnant oak prairie. About 800
square miles.
Drawbacks: Very limited accommodations and access for casual, non-hiking visitors;
the adjoining oak woodland is part of an active and important U.S. Army
testing ground. Mitigations: Put no pressure on current private
inholdings, such as the Esalen Institute, Tassajara Hot Springs,
Nepenthe Restaurant, Ventana Resort, various Buddhist, Catholic and
Anglican monasteries, etc., which provide superb low-key destinations
for travelers. Build a modest 100 to 200-room lodge at Pt. Sur
Lighthouse and another lodge on the east side of the park near Mission
San Antonio at Hunter-Liggett. Swap federal land further south for use
as an Army proving ground. Why Do It: Though there are two federal
wilderness areas and several state parks that protect elements of them,
this park would elevate two of the country’s most outstanding
landscapes to iconic status. They are the interior oak woodlands of
California’s coastal ranges and the dramatic interface between the
Santa Lucia (pronounced in the Spanish manner as “SAHN-tuh Loo-SEE-yuh”)
Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. The Santa Lucias rise sheer from the ocean, quickly gaining
altitude and cresting at Junipero Serra Peak (5,862 feet – 1,787
meters), only 11 miles inland. Outside of Alaska’s coastal ranges,
that’s one of the steepest and swiftest climbs in elevation of any
land-sea meeting in the U.S. State prisoners in the 1920s built the two-lane highway that
winds its way up the coast, starting in the south near William Randolph
Hearst’s fabled castle at San Simeon and pushing north to Carmel by
the Sea. The road, which averages 300 to 500 feet above the breakers,
hugs the mountainside like a skittish 3 year old clinging to his
mother’s skirts. It was a brutally hard road to build. The mountainsides were
so steep that there was no room for error – landslides, falls and
roadway cave-ins were constant threats. Crews worked in the middle of a
wilderness, dozens of miles from civilization. But despite the danger
and isolation, prisoners often wrote home to their loved ones about the
sense of serenity the landscape offered, and how the project’s hard
work and struggle gave them a chance to sort out their lives New Hampshire
Dimensions and Size: This new park would be formed from the White Mountains
National Forest, a preserve that currently covers 770,000 acres (1,200
square miles). It would extend about 25 miles west to east and 30 miles
north to south in a rough square delineated by U.S. Hwy 2 on the north,
U.S. Hwy 3 on the west, State Hwy 112 (the Kancamagus
Highway) on the south and State Hwy 16 on the east. Total area:
About 400,000 acres (600 square miles). Highlights: The Northeast’s most dramatic
peaks (48 of them 4,000 feet or higher) rising from the New England
countryside (and hefty enough to look like transplants from the Rockies
2,000 miles to the west); remnant groves of the great virgin forest that
blanketed New England before the arrival of English and French settlers.
The weather station atop Mt. Washington once clocked the highest wind
velocity ever recorded on earth – 231 miles per hour. Meteorologists
say that Mt. Washington is so big it can affect weather in the entire
New England region. The cog railway that climbs to its summit has been a
tourist favorite for decades.
Mitigations: Surprisingly, New England’s
extreme climate has never stood in the way of quick regeneration by
forests that have been denuded by logging or farming. Late in the 19th
century, after New England agriculture moved away to more fertile and
productive areas in the South and Midwest, abandoned farmland was
quickly reclaimed by vibrant second-growth forests. New England today
has twice as much woodland as it had in 1900, when the population of the
U.S. was only one third of what it is now. The region is a popular ski destination and the local economy
depends heavily on tourism. Rather than take a heavy-handed,
all-or-nothing approach that would ban current economic uses in the name
of restoring the park’s landscape to an imagined pristine state, the
government could take a gradual approach that gives people a generation
or two to change their current economy from extraction and exploitation
of natural resources to tourism and services. Current townships would remain as tax-sheltered private
inholdings but would be expected to adhere to federal guidelines for
pollution control and waste disposal. Aesthetic matters, such as signage
and building design, would be handled by the free market: National park
status would draw visitors from the four corners of the earth – savvy
businesses and municipalities would realize the need to present
attractive faces to the world. Why Do it: Over the years various conservation
groups have suggested that these mountains belong at the core of one of
two New England parks that would preserve some of the most spectacular
scenery east of the Mississippi. The Presidential Range boasts 12 peaks that exceed 5,000
feet, topped out by Mt. Washington at 6,288 feet. It would be an
imposing ensemble of mountains anywhere in the country. Unlike other
eastern peaks, New Hampshire’s mountains soar past timberline and
present the kinds of bare, wind-riven faces more common to high
mountains in the Far West. As such, they’re surefire attractions for
hikers and climbers looking for uncanopied, open-skied encounters with
nature. At present, New England’s grand landscape is represented
solely by Acadia in the U.S. national park system. Establishment of this
new national park would correct an historical error by adding a
significant and beautiful piece of regional geography to the collection.
By setting up a European-style park that finds ways to compassionately
co-exist with human uses, the park system could pioneer an approach to
preserving worthy landscapes that might otherwise be frittered away
because they’re not “pure” enough to rate Yosemite-like veneration
and protection. Maine Dimensions and Size: Current proposals call for up to
3.2 million acres (5,000 square miles), an area equal to Yellowstone and
Glacier national parks combined. This area would take in the northern
counties of Maine and include the current Baxter State Park, Allagash
Wilderness Waterway and northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.
Drawbacks: Extensive tracts of forest here
have been logged off several times over the past 200 years. The northern
part of Maine has long been run as a quasi-independent fiefdom by
various logging companies that have restricted access and discouraged
large-scale settlement. Yet the size and remoteness of the region has left many
pockets of virgin forest and unsullied waterways. Though these pristine
elements are a patchwork, the exploited areas that connect them, if left
to regenerate, could be restored to wilderness condition within a few
generations. This is an intensely controversial proposal, one that has
drawn heated opposition from loggers, hunters, trappers and other
citizens who fear that a national park could destroy traditional
livelihoods and restrict access to all but the affluent and effete. Also, the cost of acquisition would not be cheap. Despite
intense competition from Canadian and Southern U.S. pulp suppliers, the
north Maine woods are still valuable properties. The National Park
Service, chronically underfunded, would need help from private citizens
to pay for this new park. (Land acquisition costs would be around $1
billion at current prices.) Mitigations: As with a potential White Mountain
National Park, the forests here regenerate quickly. Besides lumbering,
no heavy industries have taken root in northern Maine, so the region
lacks the extensive pollution that can come with mining and
manufacturing. Also, the area’s population is small. The staffing and
infrastructure requirements for what could become a very popular
national park (given its size and proximity to huge U.S. and Canadian
populations) would afford most locals a chance to participate in an
expanded economy. Concerns about hunting and trapping could be addressed by
splitting the protected area between park and preserve status. Within
park boundaries, all exploitive and extractive activities, including
taking animals for food or sport, would be prohibited. However, within
preserve areas, which would protect less scenically significant
landscapes while providing a continuum of protection, limited hunting
could be allowed. Why Do It: The northern part of Maine, despite
its relative geographical closeness to the gigantic conurbation that
stretches from Boston to Washington, DC, is a surprisingly wild and
untrammeled place. Even generations of logging have not unalterably
changed it – it remains an untamed and far-flung territory. In the
heavily settled East, the existence of so large a sparsely settled
landscape invites greater protection. Maine is also the furthest reach of the Appalachian Mountains, a range that, despite its immense popularity, historic importance, heavy recreational use and 2,000-mile length, has only been fitfully protected and preserved. Here, at the Appalachians’ end, in a part of the country starved for wilderness, would be a magnificent place to set the largest national park south of Alaska. |
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