We Abuse the Land

Dry Creek is a special place to me. It was the first trail I maintained alone in my first season as a Wilderness Ranger. I can clearly remember the frustration and satisfaction of learning how to remove downed trees using an axe. Technically, the tool I was using was not an axe, but a Pulaski. Even more, it was a dull Pulaski. In my ignorance, I thought this was the norm and spent the entire day cutting trees with a very lousy tool. I managed to make a lot of progress, but from that point on, I had a whole new appreciation for a sharp axe. I learned a lot that day and over the following years my adventures and misadventures in Dry Creek would build to the point where I now have a special relationship with the area.

A spot I used to visit along the Creek, a place that is especially tranquil, has essentially been laid to waste by ignorant visitors. There is scarcely a single tree that has not been hacked upon by somebody with a hatchet. I cannot help but personify the trees. I imagine them standing there in their dignity and beauty, completely defenseless to the individual imparting mortal wounds upon the entire family, for no apparent reason, not even utility.

As I left the trailhead and made may way through the city of Alpine, the stark contrast of luxury cars, luxury homes, perfectly manicured yards and manicured people seemed ironic. I thought of the words from Aldo Leopold in A Sand County Almanac. He says, "We abuse the land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see the land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect."

Above: Note the number of tree stumps and the drag marks in the soil from logs that have been drug in from some distance to burn. The area is running out of firewood due to heavy use, but that only leads to the cutting and burning of live trees. 

Above: The tree on the right is completely girdled. Girdling is the removal of bark from around the entire circumference of a tree branch or trunk, which leads to the slow death of the limb or tree.

These trees are 25+ years old. It is frustrating to know that I will not see this location look as good as it once did. The goal is to leave it better than we find it.