Wildness

August 2006 dwp

In the Rocky Mountain state of Colorado there is a place called the Weminuche Wilderness. We have come here to renew our souls and test our bodies. We have come because here nature runs wild, unaffected by stock markets and soccer fields. This place isn’t really wild. It is intentionally set aside, like a grizzly in a zoo, so that we can come here to see what life would be like if left alone; living, growing, dieing; finding an ever changing balance and adjusting to ever changing conditions of season and climate.

In other places nature is pushed to the margins, by our science and our industry. Factories and agriculture mine the earth for her wealth, producing cars and tacos, diapers and computers. Little do we recognize where these products come from. Little do we know what is sacrificed so we can have them.

But here, on top of the continental divide, no one lives upstream, so the streams run clear and cold, snow melt from another season. It's been a good year. A mild winter followed by a wet summer, and the forest floor is filled with blossoms and berries. Deer and bear, snowshoe hare and spruce grouse enjoy the bounty. At dusk the deer circle the camp, looking for handouts. Stocked trout hit the surface of the lake in the dark calm before night. A waning moon rises over the divide, reminding us that the same moon shines down on Las Vegas, 400 miles to the west. But we are so removed from that place, in distance and in culture. We have chosen to forgo pre-packaged excitement, so that we might better know the life-flow here and be part of it for a short time.

Dawn comes late to the valley. It was a quiet night, and the morning is crisp under a blue sky. Cool mountain breezes make mornings ideal for hiking. We'll spend the day exploring. Climbing to the top of the world, to look out on the Pacific side, layer after layer of mountains, and to look back from where we came, out onto the flat lands, toward Alamosa, the Gulf and the Atlantic. In the distance we can see unmapped trails across the tundra. Possibly worn by deer, elk and big horn, these trails have been used for centuries. Are they the best way from shelter to food to water, from summer range to winter range? We can't know.

By noon the sky has turned ominous. Thunder rumbles and we retreat to camp. Lightening at this altitude is nothing to mess with. Powerful storms can hit without warning, bringing cold rain, wind and hail. Sometimes the clouds break as the sun sets, casting a vivid double rainbow against dark clouds. Sometimes it rains into the night. Tonight it does neither, and all is quiet.

Another beautiful dawn. Today we hike south on the Continental Divide Trail, toward Lobo overlook. Past Spotted Lake we traverse a slide and cross a ridge. We get a glimpse of Spruce Lake below us in a large meadow, surrounded by towering Engelmann spruce. We find rewards at every crest. Not knowing what to expect, we're always amazed, never disappointed. Up another ridge and we are back on the divide and looking down Wolf Creek drainage. Two miles away we can see people driving up highway 160, from Durango toward Wolf Creek Pass and on to Alamosa. Clouds are beginning to build in the west. We find a stone rimmed lake right on the divide, as a light rain begins to fall. It excites the surface of the water.

After lunch the clouds break and we explore the CDT to the north, peering off into other drainages, Beaver Creek, Elk Creek, Goose Creek, each a separate world, with mysteries of their own.

With our food running low, we know our time here is short. One last climb up to the Divide, we take in the vast landscape and the thin air, then back down to the lake. We break camp. Hiking down the valley, we loose the altitude gained by our strength, anticipation, and perseverance a few days ago. Along the way we find that we are sharing the trail with a black bear, who left his footprints in the soft mud, probably last night. Gibbs Creek is still crashing down its rocky streambed and careening off huge boulders on its way to Big Meadow reservoir. Just like that we are out of the wilderness, on a road, through a campground and back to the trailhead parking.

This place is special, a treasure set aside. It's also home to a myriad of wild creatures, who are unacquainted with the long reach of this earth's dominant species. We were visitors here, here by the grace of our over productivity, which allows us leisure time and the ability to travel these remote reaches for pleasure. Our surpluses used up, we must go back to our places in the industrial machine, making value added goods, solving human relationship issues and producing the energy our economy runs on. Maybe next year we can visit this wild place again. Will it be unchanged - Blue skies, rushing waters, threatening clouds, a rainbow? - beauty in the unexpected.