Open space for the mind and soul

CHASING DOWN THE MUSE

Friends frequently label me a rebel, and they get no argument from my

court.

I constantly chase the edges of experience, not recklessly, but

with a sense of pushing into territory that is new and exciting. And

yet, grudgingly, a part of me dimly understands the rules and plods

along behind them.

This plodding part of my personality manifests when hiking

well-traveled areas of our park systems. That said, I’ll go cross

country anytime the route warrants, but in most instances, I’m

content to follow the footsteps of those before me, crisscrossing

canyon walls and ravines in a measured fashion, stepping lightly in

an effort to protect what little wilderness remains.

Wilderness is hard to come by. Nature takes quite good care of

herself without our meddling. In fact, of all the species, it strikes

me that humans alone are set on eliminating anything that resembles

open ground.

Our exponentially expanding population all but guarantees that one

day, human habitat will cover every corner of the planet.

Wild lands clear our psyche and heal our souls. The first time I

stood on the frigid shores of Glacier Bay and gazed across the water

into the backcountry, I experienced a mind expansion that is hard to

describe, except as an awakening. Core body fibers understood, that

as far as I could perceive, there were no other human beings. I was

looking at wilderness. Pure, unadulterated raw space, which spoke to

me in a language I had previously not heard. This land, and others

like her, are vital to our mental and physical health, and the

survival of earth.

On a recent climb into the foothills above South Laguna,

researching the viability of a trail across the much discussed Mar

Vista project, I was struck by the fact, that sometimes there are

better reasons not to have a trail, than to provide access. The

terrain in question is steep and thickly covered in coastal sage

scrub. The underlying sandstone crumbles under heavy use, and the

proposed entrance traverses a riparian watershed. The land, to use a

borrowed phrase, is virgin.

A covey of fat quail scurried from my footfall, chirping to one

another as they scattered into the shelter of sage. Overhead, a red

tail soared, hungrily scouring the land for a late morning meal.

Droppings of coyote, bobtail and rabbit littered the ragged course

through thick growth. I was walking in the home territory of other

species. For a moment, I considered my trespass.

Even delicate trails scar the landscape. Not more than one half

mile to the north, I could see the cut of Valido trail, a recently

mapped component of the Aliso Peak Trail Network (thank you Open

Space Committee). This trail connects South Laguna off Valido Road

(via West Street) to Touvet Trail, Aliso Peak and the ridge that

leads into Woods Canyon. These trails provide spectacular ocean and

city views, and traverse the same species of chaparral in which I was

standing.

I can understand the desire to increase access to the open space,

but not at the cost of greater disruption of an already taxed

eco-system. The development of the Mar Vista property will alter

about one acre of the owners total holding of nearly 12. While I’m

sure that more than one rabbit family will be displaced, the overall

retention of undeveloped native land is enormous. The proposed trail

would impact a swath of property on the periphery that by mandate,

cannot be developed as anything other than a trail. The opportunity

remains to also leave this land untouched.

Dave Bohn, a wilderness photographer, friend, mentor and author of

“Glacier Bay: the land and the silence,” often shared his sentiments

with students.

In one poignant reveal, he spoke of the Katmai peninsula, a place

he both revered and cherished. It was his holy ground, a territory

where bears reigned and man had not spoiled. He said that he would

gladly sacrifice ever setting foot again in his treasured space, or

even sharing it with his children, if it meant keeping it wild

forever.

Some things, some places, need to be left alone.

* CATHARINE COOPER is a member of the city’s Open Space Committee.

She can be reached at [email protected].