President Obama recently signed legislation to change the status of the Pinnacles National Monument near Hollister, CA to become a national park. And I wonder, what will be the aftermath? A beautiful, awe-inspiring place in my own backyard... And a bit of a private place... now. Perhaps a not so private future awaits the visitors of Pinnacles National Park.
It is a question I ask myself every time I drive by the crowded shopping mall freeway exits on my way to my regular weekend hikes, "Why are all the people trapping themselves inside dark shopping malls with so many unnatural, echoing sounds and endless advertisements abounding?" Then I arrive at my weekend escape. I see no one. No, really, sometimes there is no one, not a single person, on the trail. No one encountered within all of the 6 or 7 hours of hiking.
But then, of course, I like it that way. Aren't I yearning to escape, after all? I enjoy the solitude, but then I worry, if so few people come here to these lovely, rejuvenating places, how long will it be until these places are no longer here, for anyone to enjoy, free and in peace, unencumbered by shopping malls, cars and endless walls of matching row houses?
It is a bit of a catch-22. I want these beautiful places to be loved and valued so that we protect them for a quality future and so that we increase our surrounding natural spaces; and so that the values of our society and it's members turn away from materialism and sensationalism toward a sense of peace, connectedness and respect that I believe can only be inspired by nature (in a sense, the pro-National Park stance). But I suppose, I must confess, not loved so much that I cannot continue my 6 hour hikes in solitude (the alternate pro-leave it as a National Monument stance).
But for the Pinnacles, the decision has been made, and I will observe whether changes will ensue with this official renaming and the moments of publicity that follow. For now, I recollect...
It was at the Pinnacles that I first saw California Condors soaring low above head as I sat atop a pinnacle enjoying lunch with my boyfriend. On a hot day in the Pinnacles, mid-hike, I found a lovely waterfall and was inspired to cool off beneath this natural shower. Camping with my family in the Pinnacles, I was awakened in the middle of the night by the howling of coyotes; the first time I had heard coyotes howling since my childhood spent on a ranch in northern California. My children, tired but determined, scale the frighteningly steep High Peaks trail without aid and without fear, and my six year old daughter completes a 9.5 mile hike. The caves, a playground for the imaginations of two small children and their mother who worries yet celebrates their daring free spirits. Frosty fingers, noses and toes, return to the caves determined to see them in their winter clothes, are disappointed by a high rainfall year which has rendered the caves too technical (not to mention too dangerous!) to pass for small children. A confession of love and an invitation for the future, heard by my ears beneath the still, green canopies within the Pinnacles lowlands.
And in my memories I return.
