By MK Gunn

Creamy and rosy hybrid paintbrushes grace the foreground of Weminuche Wilderness mountains. Photo by MK Gunn

Those of you in the community who know me can easily understand that I would not be who I am without Wilderness. Wilderness – with a capital W – has allowed me days upon days of reinvigorating solitude. Here, the only sounds are those of Mother Nature. They are the wind blowing the leaves and grasses and howling through rock corridors. They are the wild animals such as the pikas squeaking, elk bugling, and coyotes howling. They are the flowing water – anything from the tiniest trickle to the roar of whitewater rapids and waterfalls. And sometimes the sound is that of nothing at all. These sounds are grounding, calming, inspiring, magical, invigorating, wild, and can bolster even the most destitute of spirits. And that’s just the sounds. There’s also the sights, smells, feelings, and tastes of the wilderness.

These experiences are more likely to be had in congressionally designated Wilderness areas where nothing mechanized or motorized is allowed. Sure, planes still fly overhead but outside of that, the sounds, sights, smells, feelings, and tastes are all natural.

Edward Abbey wrote that “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit” and “We need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope”. I agree wholeheartedly yet not everyone understands these sentiments. Microsoft spell check defines wilderness as “wasteland; desert”. However, you don’t always have to understand someone in order to support their needs.

Wilderness visitation is on the rise and many of those who venture into Wilderness areas don’t know how to responsibly visit the backcountry. Not everyone has read the Wilderness Act or Edward Abbey. While some of these Wilderness newbies may find a new appreciation for land stewardship, unfortunately, irresponsible trail users often leave behind litter, braided trails, fire
scars, marred trees, and trampled vegetation. But please, don’t lose hope.

The San Juan Mountains Association (SJMA) is pleased to announce the Weminuche Wilderness Stewardship Fund. Those of you who read my July column may recall that one definition of “stewardship” is “the responsible overseeing and protection of something considered worth caring for and preserving.” Since 1988, SJMA has been committed to promoting “responsible care of natural and cultural resources through education and hands-on involvement that inspires respect and reverence for our lands”. As visitor use increases, we want to make sure that these visitors understand how much care and support our lands need in this day and age.

The Weminuche Wilderness is Colorado’s largest wilderness area with almost 500,000 acres of conifer forests, wild trout streams, and jagged peaks. As the headwaters of the Rio Grande and San Juan Rivers, the Weminuche provides drinking water to millions of downstream residents on both sides of the Continental Divide. The Weminuche Wilderness Stewardship Fund will provide crucial funding to help mitigate the following challenges:

• Beetle infestations and severe avalanches have led to countless fallen trees that affect
  the ecosystem and limit trail access
• Growing crowds are leaving human waste, contaminating key watersheds, and causing
  resource damage
• There are currently no full-time rangers working in the Weminuche Wilderness on the
  San Juan National Forest due to budget cuts

The fund directly supports SJMA’s efforts to implement on-the-ground stewardship projects, improve trail access, coordinate and equip volunteer rangers that will engage in stewardship projects and educate visitors on proper backcountry practices and educate the public on Leave No Trace ethics.

Are you wondering how you can help? Well, the easiest way would be to attend the San Juan Mountain Jam and silent auction on October 17. Enjoy local bluegrass bands while investing in new goodies to treat yourself or your loved ones. You can also become a volunteer or sign up to make monthly donations. Visit sjma.org for more information.

The work completed as a result of the fund will be just a portion of what SJMA does to steward public lands, but it is all of equal importance in the overall goal of protecting public lands and educating people on how to do their part to make sure our spectacular public lands can be equally enjoyed by future generations. There’s a lot of work to be done but if we lose hope or energy, we can always recharge our batteries by escaping into the Wilderness and then come back to keep on working. In the words of Ed Abbey, I leave you with this: “May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.”

MK Gunn is the Volunteer and Education Specialist for SJMA. She frequently loses herself in Wilderness in order to find herself. Reach her at MK@sjma.org.

By Kent Rector

I’ve always been drawn to “wild” places. As a child I spent hours in my family’s yard playing in the bushes, digging in the dirt, and climbing trees. I guess I wouldn’t recognize our yard as “wild” these days but to the mind of a six-year-old living in Waverly, Iowa, my yard seemed huge and full of mystery. As I grew older, I started venturing further out. I started exploring the dry-runs and wooded areas around town. Eventually I found myself along the Cedar River on an isolated sandbar camping with friends nearly every weekend. I can now boast that I’ve spent countless days and nights on trails, in National Parks and Forests throughout the nation, and I still search for “wild” places today.

This last month I had the privilege of sharing my search with six high school students and a coworker. A large part of my job with Des Moines County Conservation is to develop programs that promote outdoor recreation and environmental education. In fact, the mission of my division is to “develop an environmentally responsible community.” So, I decided to put together a Wilderness program for students living in Des Moines County and after about ten months of planning, training, scheduling, and fundraising, everything came together. But why wilderness?

Did you know that there are zero acres of congressionally designated Wilderness in Iowa? The Wilderness Act was passed in 1964 by Congress, creating the strictest form of protection for wild areas in the United States. The Act defines wilderness as:

“A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.”

Pretty cool, right? In fact, studies have shown that people feel better knowing that there are vast stretches of wild untrammeled lands out there. Even if they never plan to visit them, just knowing they could gives them peace of mind and a since of connection to the land. Data from the National Survey on Recreation and the Environment indicate that protecting air quality, water quality, wildlife habitat, unique wild plant and animal species, and bequest to future generations are all consistently rated as the top five most important benefits of wilderness. Wilderness Connect, a conglomerate of wilderness study groups including the Wilderness Institute, the Arthur Carhart Training Center, and the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research institute, states that Americans, whether urban or rural, also attributed a high importance to six additional benefits including the scenic beauty of wild landscapes, the knowledge that wilderness is being protected (existence value), the choice to visit wilderness at some future time (option value), the opportunity for wilderness recreation experiences, preserving nature for scientific study, and spiritual inspiration. Research is also finding a slew of personal and community health benefits, but that’s another story. The benefits are numerous, but in its most basic form Wilderness provides us a baseline to how nature functions without human meddling.

The concept of, or the connection to wilderness can be somewhat elusive for most Iowans. Probably because Iowa’s landscape is currently the most altered in the nation. Historically, prairie covered 75 to 80 percent of Iowa. Today, less than 0.1 percent of that original prairie remains, scattered across the state. Nationally, there are 767 areas totaling over 110 million acres of land declared and protected as Wilderness in the US. However, none of these areas are within Iowa. So, we needed a van.

With some help from our friends at Deery Brothers we loaded our steel horse on July 9th, 2019 and set out to explore the South San Juan Wilderness of Colorado. Six students, all of which had submitted applications that included essays describing their personal definition of wilderness, one coworker, and myself set out on an adventure together that would take 11 days, span three states, and required us to carry everything we needed for six days on our backs into the wilds. The trek focused on four pillars of learning: Environmental Science, Outdoor Skills, Stewardship, and the Study of Wilderness.

I can easily say that leading this trek has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my career so far. It’s hard to describe or put into words all the emotions you go through on a long wilderness trek. There are times you feel like you’re on top of the world, other times you feel exhausted and done. It’s also hard to express how proud I am of these kids: Med-kit, Dangler, Chief, Bookworm, Goat, and Sasquatch. We all truly found ourselves through each other over the course of the trek. We laughed, smiled, and cried together. We struggled, climbed, and found strength together. We discovered and named a lake. We celebrated a birthday. We watched the stars and howled at the moon.

Each night, as part of our wilderness study, we did a reading from a collection of essays that I had packed with us. Each student took turns reading an article to the group which we then discussed. My favorite was titled “The Backcast,” an entry taken out of the book, “Paddle Whispers” by Douglas Wood.

The Backcast:

“So why… why go through it? Why even be here?

The second answer is easy. Because “here” is where the beauty is. Here is where the sunsets are. Here is where the campsites and campfires are, and the clear, deep waters, and the loons, and the pines, and the islands. And yes, the storms and the big winds and the rapids. Here is where the journey is.

But why go through it? Why do I… why do I go through it? I think because no one else can go through it for me. And because the modern city world system uses people to get work done. Important work, supposedly. That’s the whole idea. That’s why we get paid. But here – here I’m using work… to get myself done. What better work is there than that?

Or maybe… maybe it’s enough to say that I am here, as another voyageur once put it, “to iron out the wrinkles in my soul.”

And maybe it is only on the trail to nowhere-in-particular that you find the most important thing of all. Yourself.”

We packed out of the wilderness on July 17th, 2019. We had hiked an average of seven miles a day. Immersed ourselves in study of wilderness, learned valuable outdoor skills including leave no trace, and worked a total of 64 hours on the trails as part of our service learning. As we loaded our gear into the van, sprits were high. Everyone was ready for a shower and some fresh food. But as we descended the long gravel road back towards Pagosa Springs, the van grew quiet. There were several tears shed along that road as the group realized what they had just accomplished, learned, and lived.

There is something that draws me to wild places and for some reason the wild is where I feel most alive. I’ve asked myself over and over if this trek was a success. I also ask myself, what was gained by offering such a program for the youth of Des Moines County Iowa? The first question is simple. Yes… I consider this program not only a success, but I believe it has set a milestone in the environmental education efforts of Des Moines County Conservation. A program of this magnitude had never been done in the county before, and we did it brilliantly.

It’s the second part that I struggle with. It’s not such a simple answer, it’s as abstract as the aspens. It’s the wind whispering through the pines, and the purple moonlit sky over a mountain lake. The specific benefits of this program are yet to be seen. It resides in the hearts of all those who experience it. You could say we brought a little bit of the “wild” back to Iowa. We will see the benefits of this program for years to come as our students grow and live their lives. As they put to use the self-confidence they discovered in the wild. As they take responsibility for and strive to protect the “wild” places they value. As they grow to be stewards of the natural world we leave them.

I believe we will see the benefits of this program in the work they do, thanks to the work they did on this trip, on themselves, ironing the wrinkles out of their soul.

Kent Rector is the Environmental Education Coordinator at Des Moines County Conservation. He led, along with MK Gunn, our education specialist, a 4 day teen backpacking trip this summer

By MK Gunn

Durango Herald’s monthly column, “Stewards of the Land”, has been around for over ten years. That’s ten years of info on where to go on your public lands, what to look for, and how to do it responsibly.

South San Juan Teen Backpacking Trip

But what is a “steward of the land”? When you look up the definition of the word “steward”, the results are underwhelming. Most definitions are something to the effect of “One who manages another’s property, finances, or other affairs”. I don’t know any stewards of the land that think of themselves this way. So then I looked up “stewardship” and found this definition at dictionary.com. “The responsible overseeing and protection of something considered worth caring for and preserving.” Nailed it.

Yes, the stewards of the land that I know are committed to the responsible overseeing and protection of our public lands because these special places are something considered worth caring for and preserving. Most of these stewards glean no financial benefit from this but they rake in a myriad of other benefits, some that are often unseen by others.

When I think of the stewards of the land that I know, they are all ages. I have had a five-year-old tell me how litter can harm wildlife. And I have had a wrinkled and grey-haired woman teach me the deep down importance of true wilderness for the human soul.

If anyone is to be successful at a skill, they need to start as young as possible. {Oak at the local three year olds that can ride a pedal bike and ski the green runs. These kids learned at such a young age that they don’t remember not knowing how to ski or ride a bike. It is ingrained in them. Kids need to understand the importance of caring for our natural treasures just as much as anyone else. And kids won’t necessarily do this on their own. We need to help them.

One of the programs I lead with San Juan Mountains Association (SJMA) is backpacking trips with teenagers. 2019 marks the seventh year. It’s one thing to go on a little hike on Saturday morning and then get lunch downtown. It’s quite another to carry everything on your back that you will need for three days, have nothing but mesh and nylon between you and a ferocious lightning storm, and have to dig a seven inch deep hole and squat over it every time you need to poop. In Terry Tempest Williams’s book Red, she writes, “The landscape that makes you vulnerable also makes you strong”. We need strong stewards of the land more now than ever.

I was delighted recently to spend four days backpacking with teens from Iowa. Former SJMA employee Kent Rector came out with a group of six teens, ages 16 – 18, and treated them to a six day trip in the South San Juan Wilderness. Rector did a fantastic job of preparing these teens. Thanks to a variety of grants, Rector was able to buy the necessary equipment and food for every one of them. They had their packs weeks in advance and were able to practice packing their load and carrying it. He also taught them how to use all the equipment and provided them with Leave No Trace (LNT) training. He connected them with Ros Wu, Natural Resource Specialist for the San Juan National Forest (SJNF), and they learned about what Wilderness with a capitol W means. There is not one acre of congressionally designated Wilderness in Iowa.

South San Juan Teen Backpacking Trip

After months of preparation and anticipation, I met them at the trailhead and they followed me enthusiastically into a cloud of mosquitoes and a landscape of wildflowers, aspens, mixed conifers, and mountain views. The enthusiasm waned quickly. The day was hot and the trail was steep. Some group members had considerable trouble with the hike, but we were a team. The faster hikers were nothing but supportive. At one point, they eagerly jumped at the chance to help a struggling team member by taking a substantial amount of out of her pack and adding it to their already large burdens. It was all worth it. We made camp at a picturesque lake below the Chalk Mountains. We named the lake “Salamander Lake” due to the profusion of tiger salamanders living there. We also marveled at the masses of five inch long leaches, freshwater scuds, and finicky fish that would swim within a foot of our fishing lures and then eat something else.

We frolicked through wildflowers and learned what we could eat and, more importantly, what would kill us with just one taste – bane berry! We wondered at arborglyphs (carvings made by historic sheep herders) dating back as far as 1934. Some books tell us that an aspen tree will live only 60 to 100 years. But others say 150 years is more accurate. We believe the latter! These massive trees sported drawings of birds, cows, and a man in a sombrero as well as a variety of names and dates, many from the 30’s and 40’s.

On my last night with these young stewards of the land, I read to them “The Coyote Clan”, a chapter from the book Red. They soaked in the words about being vulnerable, being adaptable, the trickster coyote, and the reminder that no one can ever truly own this landscape besides Mother Nature. And they smiled when I declared them members of the Coyote Clan. As Williams writes, “Members of the Clan are not easily identified, but there are clues. You can see it in their eyes. They are joyful and they are fierce. They can cry louder and laugh harder than anyone on the planet. And they have an enormous range”. And, if you ask me, they are also stewards of the land.

MK Gunn is the Volunteer and Education Specialist for San Juan Mountains Association. She has dubbed herself a “steward of the land” for over ten years now but her parents have always known her to be one. Reach out to her at MK@sjma.org.