Leave No Trace

(...also known as Park Rule #42...)

 

As I sit here at my favorite spot next to the pier, enjoying an immensely spectacular sunset my thoughts, as always these days, turn to the ending of summer and the end of my contract as a seasonal ranger.  My personal challenge as an employee in any place that I've worked is to leave said place a little better than I found it. Sometimes it works. Other times it does not. I feel as though I have two choices: walking away feeling as though I am leaving a town in ruin with a mass of still-flaming rubble and twisted metal heaped on either side of me or the converse, a thriving metropolis with singing blue jays twittering around me and cherubim frolicking at my feet.

 

The reality falls somewhere in the middle of the aforementioned scenarios; and I am okay with that. Honestly.

 

...No, really, I am okay with the middle of the road result - in this case.

Whether or not I have succeeded in this instance with the park is not for me to decide in this blog or in private. Instead, what is for me to do in this blog is to explore the philosophical implications.  I say this because we find ourselves stuck between the human desire to be remembered at any cost thereby validating our existence; and to follow the true ethics of nature, ergo the wilderness credo of Leave No Trace (or, LNT)



 

But first, a little background for those of you not familiar with LNT.

 

This philosophy started as a marketing concept by the National Parks System to reduce the amount of waste impact in the parks and recreational areas: Rio Grande, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, etc.

 

What it actually evolved into is a seven point philosophy reducing not just the waste impact specifically, but also to preserve and protect the park environmental areas and ecosystem as a whole. The Park Ranger in me, which is continually having to summarize these long interpretive explorations into factoids for visitor comprehension likes to sum up the seven principles in this catchy little phrase: "Take only pictures, leave only footprints." At this juncture, you may be wondering as to where do these two points converge. On one hand, we have the human, which wants to leave a mark in an attempt to always be recognized. On the other hand, we have LNT, which is seemingly polar opposite.

 

Or is it?

 

The answer lies in the reality that LNT cannot completely erase the impact you make - it is all about what you do to minimize that impact. Further, it does not necessarily rank different impacts but instead focuses on how the impact is made.

The core question, then, is how does one affect the other? For me, let's look at some "thing" that I feel has gotten it right: nature. At first glance, nature is the same, stuck in stasis, never changing. Much like the sunset. Every evening the sun sets in the west. Big Whoop. You occasionally get your evenings of spectacular sunsets, but overall, they never change. But you would be wrong. When you actually sit and take the time to observe, each sunset is different and individual; the changes are subtle, but they are there. This could, perhaps, be the point of LNT: change is inevitable and it will happen but slowing the impact will allow a higher level of adaption - ergo a longer period of impact(s) will lead to a greater overall change. Further, not just a greater overall change, but a greater overall permanent change that still leaves the natural process intact.

 

So we have shown that change and 'leaving your mark' is possible, but in the cosmic scale it does not matter who leaves it, just that it is left behind so that another piece of the puzzle becomes filled in and the ever turning cog of life can continue its ceaseless rotation.

 

The only conclusions that I can draw from this is twofold: one, if you can only leave little bits behind at a time, be careful as to what you choose to leave as it does matter and impact the overall outcome. And as for number two...

 

...well...

 

...maybe there is something more to living a minimalistic lifestyle...