Ken Murray MD
One of the great things about living in California’s Central
Valley is the easy access to one of the great mountain ranges of the world, the
Sierra Nevada, and its beautiful forests. Unfortunately, through no fault of
anyone in the valley, that access is being threatened.
As a lifelong Californian, I've grown to love the mountains
so much that I've done volunteer work in the forests of the Sierra for the past
15 years. And over that time, I've seen a dramatic shift in the condition of
the forests. The problems are twofold: a lack of funding and a lack of
personnel.
The problem is particularly acute in the Sequoia National
Forest, most easily accessed from Bakersfield or Porterville. It has no forest
rangers. Let me be very clear: I do not use the word “ranger” like others, who
count anyone wearing a Forest Service uniform as a ranger. What I am talking
about is the absence of the traditional “ranger-naturalist” who spends his or
her time tromping the trails.
These are the rangers who interact with people in the
backcountry, protect our resources on the ground, maintain the structures
related to trails, check permits, and help people in trouble. Interacting with
such folks remains a very fond memory of my youth, and it was part of what
brings me back to the mountains.
Such people are gone now. Yes, you will find a few rangers
who work in the information booths and offices, where the cars park, but there
is no one away from the roads. This has translated into a slow but steady
degradation of the forest, and the rise of destructive visitor behavior, such
as graffiti on trees or the creation of fires when conditions are dangerous.
It’s not just the rangers who are gone. The professional
trail maintainers have disappeared, too. Not so long ago, teams of such people
maintained trails, using only “primitive” tools like shovels and handsaws.
Skills with such tools are crucial because one rule of working in Forest
Service wilderness is that any kind of engine or wheeled device is prohibited.
Trails can’t be maintained with chain saws or wheelbarrows.
Why are all these skilled people gone? It’s money, of
course. The Forest Service budget to the Sierra forests has been cut on an
almost an annual basis, with frontline workers bearing the brunt of the cuts.
Who fills the gap? Volunteers like me. Today, all the trail
maintenance done in the Sequoia National Forest is performed by a half-dozen
volunteer groups, members of which spend their own time and money to get
special training, buy their own tools, drive up to the forest, and work hard
for days or even weeks. For example, my group, the High Sierra Volunteer Trail
Crew, has restored many trails that had been left to deteriorate.
Such work has to be done. Trails are artificial things.
Water washes them out, trees fall on them, and rocks crash onto them. If these
problems are not fixed, trails become impassible in just a few years.
Most trails require work every year, or they deteriorate.
But such maintenance doesn’t always happen. Two years ago, I led a crew to
repair a portion of the remote Pacific Crest Trail, which had gotten no
attention in almost a decade. This is one of our great national scenic trails,
yet it took my crew of 15 two hours to find it. It was so terribly overgrown
that it took 30 days of work over a three-year span to clear just a few miles
of trail.
This sort of thing is not just a labor of love but also a
labor of public health. Trails need maintenance not only because people wish to
travel in the wilderness, but also because poorly maintained trails erode the
watershed, diminishing the quality of water in Central Valley cities.
Volunteers, of course, can do only a small part of this
work. At least that has been the standard thinking. But now, there are only
volunteers. With no one else chipping in, we don't merely lose access to
trails. We lose trails altogether.
The trails are organized into a system, and “system trails”
are required, by law, to be maintained. But when trails can’t be maintained, as
is the case now, the government complies with the law by “decommissioning”
poorly maintained trails from the trail system. And decommissioned trails
literally disappear from maps. One of the best mapmakers for the Sierra, Tom
Harrison, tells me that Forest Service personnel regularly instruct him to
remove trails from his maps. Eventually, no one knows the trail was ever there.
This trend represents the ongoing loss of national resources
— our trails and the access they provide. And these losses seem to be happening
without public awareness or debate. Yes, there are some people who believe that
wilderness areas are better off without trails or the ability of people to
access them; they want the land kept pure and believe that the harder it is to
get into the forests, the better. They hold as their scripture the 1964 Federal
Wilderness Act, which designates areas “where the earth and its community of
life are untrammeled by man.”
I read the Wilderness Act differently, since it also speaks
of wilderness lands being preserved “for the people,” as places where “man
himself is a visitor.” Access to our public lands is a right of all Americans,
and the huge system of public lands is something that distinguishes America
from most of the world’s other countries. It also makes the Central Valley a
special place to live. With the decline of forests and trails, we are losing a
part of California — and part of our American selves.
http://www.redding.com/news/2014/feb/09/dr-ken-murray-why-trails-are-fading-from-the-map/
http://www.redding.com/news/2014/feb/09/dr-ken-murray-why-trails-are-fading-from-the-map/
Ken Murray, MD, is a retired clinical assistant professor of
family medicine at the University of Southern California. Via
ZocaloPublicSquare.org.