The theme of wilderness permeates western civilization and its literature. But the concept of a place devoid of human habitation and untouched by human intervention is a highly charged cultural concept that has little relation to the actual existence of such a place in the real world. Many of the early pioneers from the earliest European settlers along the eastern seaboard and westward across the continent had the concept that the area they were entering was a "wilderness" even though it appeared to be inhabited, sometimes heavily, with native American people. Today, it would be difficult, if not impossible to point to an area of the world, other than the continent of Antarctica, that could fall into the classic cultural notion of a wilderness. I have found petroglyphs and other evidence of human habitation in some of the most remote areas in North America, evidence that people have lived in the area for thousands of years.
In the United States we have codified our wildernesses into Federally owned enclaves, designated by law. Some of these areas are as heavily visited as an urban mall, but are still "wilderness" under the law. One night, I was laying awake in the bottom of Pariah Canyon, a norther Arizona slot canyon and an officially designated "wilderness area." I looked into the dark midnight sky and realized that I was watching a series of airplanes fly over. With a little thought I remembered that the main north/south airline routes between Phoenix and Salt Lake City, led right over the canyon. I thought of my wilderness experience, being days on foot from the nearest commercial outpost, but in reality, only a few thousand feet from people sitting in comfort reading or sleeping or talking on a cross country flight. The experience shattered the illusion of wilderness, that I could somehow separate myself from the rest of humanity by merely walking into the desert or mountains.
In the eastern part of the Mesa/Phoenix Metroplex there is a famous range of mountains which are included in the Superstition Wilderness area. Driving along U.S. 60 going east from Mesa, you can look towards the mountains and see them outlined with a line demarking the edge of the "wilderness" next to suburban subdivisions.
I frequently read about someone who moves out into the countryside, to experience the solitude and like a recent article in Arizona Highways magazine, living "off the grid... where the world is more primal and elemental." Arizona Highways, November 2008, page 21. But the fact that we are reading about this person in a major magazine, a person who is usually a contributor, indicates that living in the "wilderness" is simply part of their job, if you will. They define themselves by living at some distance from commercial services to make a point.
Talking about a businessman that just purchased 2.5 million square acres of wilderness in Chile, the news report states: "Doug is intense, driven, obsessive and self-deprecating. He is a curious fusion of Henry David Thoreau and Charles Lindberg with Martha Stewart's eye for detail. But at his core, he is a deeply committed environmentalist." Describing his land the article explains, "In this isolated region with chronic poverty, Doug is creating his own Utopian world -- a South American Walden Pond where natural splendor is complimented by handcrafted beauty. No detail too small: paths made of stone, fences of twigs, signs hand-carved, public campgrounds immaculate. And nine Hobbit-like cabins for visitors. Pumalin isn't just about preserving wilderness, it is about living in harmony with nature."
Wilderness including all the modern conveniences. As the article states: "Suddenly, in this remote mountain valley near the bottom of the earth, we enter a manicured lane way, passing immaculate gardens, glass greenhouses and then, far from everyone and everywhere, a graceful home. This is where Doug Tompkins and his wife, Kristine, live."
See http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/GlobalWarming/story?id=2931202
More about wilderness later.
No comments:
Post a Comment