10 March 2017

Lost In Rocky Mountain National Park

My mother was a history teacher, so we took long road trips in the summers often hitting national parks, monuments and historic sites along with museums and state parks. She adored the Western United States (still does), and many of our trips took us through the mountains, deserts and canyons prevalent in those areas of the country.

In 1986, my mother, my niece and I went to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado.

We arrived at our campsite, set up our tent and unloaded the van -- except for the food because of bears. After that was all done, my niece and I just wanted to stay in the tent and play with our Barbies. What can I say? We were nine.

Mom, however, wanted to go look for wildlife, so she found a nearby trail to follow.

My niece and I happily played in the tent until Mom returned and insisted we come with her.

Reluctantly, we followed her down the trail until we came upon a herd of elk grazing in the distance. Mom oohed and ahhed. We used the binoculars to get a closer look. Soon enough, my niece and I grew bored, and Mom told us we could go back to the campsite.

That's when things went south.

Walking back to our tent, we turned left when we should have turned right. In no time at all, we were thoroughly lost.

But we were in the campground of the park. Surely we could wander around and find our spot, right?

Wrong!

We trudged all through that campground, waving at cars that drove past, and completely unconcerned for ourselves. We could not find our tent.

We walked up a small hill and looked from on high. We could not spot our tent.

We even ended up walking past the ranger station, but did we ask one of the helpful rangers to point us in the right direction? Of course not! We were nine. We weren't supposed to talk to strangers!

We kept walking. It seemed as though hours passed, but it was probably more like forty-five minutes.

Eventually, among the trees and tents, our beautiful cream and blue van came slowly around a curve in the road. Hooray! We found Mom!

We ran and climbed inside while Mom wondered where we had been. She said she had been looking everywhere. We were right here in this campground the whole time.

Guess who then got told what to do when one is lost? That's right. Two nine-year-old girls who quickly learned to stay in one place to be more easily found.

But what we really learned was to always go hiking with Mom.

01 March 2017

Resistance

Rialto Beach, Olympic National Park, Washington
photo by Sara K Joiner
Like many people, I am still angry about the presidential election. I am horrified and appalled by what is happening to the country around me, to people I love, to strangers suffering from doubt and uncertainty and fear. I have called my senators and my representative. I have emailed, and I have protested.

I am still furious, but above everything, I am worried. And I am most worried about the environment and our national park system.

I love our national parks. I have written before about my love of them, but I am now taking that love as a form of protest. Since Inauguration Day, I have been tweeting personal photos from national parks and sites that I have visited. The limited characters allowed on Twitter don't give me the opportunity to truly voice my delight in and appreciation for the National Park Service, one of our greatest government agencies. Park service employees have been facing reduced funding for years and years, and they continue to serve the public. No matter who drives up to the entrance, you are welcome to explore the natural wonders or historic sites of our country.

So this is an extension of my Twitter resistance. This will be me writing about my memories of visits to national parks and sites throughout the United States. I haven't visited every one, but I cherish every one I have visited. I hope to get to more before, as I fear, the current administration drills for oil on them or turns them into golf courses or simply bulldozes them down to build a name-branded skyscraper.

I know my voice is only one in a sea of angry voices. I know that this will hardly make a dent in all the noise. I know for absolute certain that the current administration will ignore me. This is only one way I will resist. I will continue to call and email and protest. I will continue to fight for my country, for people I love, for strangers.

But I need to do more. This is more.