A Few Thoughts.. On wilderness and what it really means

Fall is falling. Sunday morning, it becomes official. I will — hopefully — be in a spot that cares nothing for the arbitrary Gregorian calendar, but is sensitive to the celestial timetable that inspired such things. The first “calendar” was made about 8,000 BCE by the same culture that 9,200 years later invented golf. Ancient Scot hunter-gatherer tribes built an earthen calendar of twelve pits aligned with the southern horizon, which archaeologists believe were used to keep track of moon phases and seasonal changes.

Here we are, 10,000 years later, doing the same with our little carry-around computers. No earthen pits for us. We’ve split time into finer increments. Still, I wonder who thought, “A while ago, the sun rose over that same hill. There it is again.”

It’s my plan to be in the Scotchman Peaks backcountry for the equinox and the bright remnants of a full moon. Over the last two and a half decades, I’ve made several trips annually into the Scotchman, where little carry-around computers have a hard time keeping track of where they are, but this will be my single back-country foray for this year. The reduction in frequency is directly related to the condition of my knees.

When my grandpa Earl was about my current age, he pointed at those same peaks once and said, “See those mountains? I can climb any one of them. I just can’t come back down.”

I understand. But, I’m gonna go on this one, anyway.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve hiked the Scotchmans on multi- and single-day hikes, but I might venture 100-plus, if I can count the days I worked as the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness (FSPW) trail crew leader. The FSPW Extreme Plein Air Expedition, which is the occasion this week, is in its 15th iteration. It will be a semi-short trip of three days and two nights, and maybe my last overnighter into that country beyond the end of the trail. Maybe. I could rethink that, once I’m there. I have looked at the map longingly, and wonder how much damage I would do to myself if I undertook one last trip cross-country from the Little Spar trailhead to the Clark Fork River. As the raven flies, that’s about 8 miles. As the backpacker hikes, though, it’s never been less than four days, and more often five. Maybe, if I can get a couple of porters, I can do it in six or seven.

I’ll tell you one thing. If I can, I will. The Scotchman backcountry is one of the most magical, sacred places I’ve ever been.

This month is the 60th anniversary of the Wilderness Act, signed into law by President Johnson in 1964. The Scotchman Peaks were identified in the 1970s as eligible to be part of the National Wilderness Preservation System established by the Act. Since then, the Scotchman Peaks have been listed as recommended wilderness and managed as such by the National Forests of North Idaho and western Montana.

In 2019, Bonner County held an advisory vote asking citizens if they were for or against a nationally designated Wilderness Area in the Idaho portion of the Peaks. The idea was rejected.

The decision didn’t change the recommended status of the Scotchmans; and certainly didn’t reduce its wild beauty or the magic. It did demonstrate — again — that a campaign based on misinformation, disinformation, character assassination and other nasty tactics could sway an election.

During that campaign, lies were told about what Wilderness designation means, and about people who support it. Wilderness is not an elitist idea. The Wilderness system was established to save wild places for all citizens. People who support Scotchman designation are not dark-money groups from outside or newcomers with hidden agendas. The hidden-agenda charge might be more true of the opponents to designation, who I believe were less than forthcoming about their real motivations. Unlike them, I won’t speculate about that.

Wilderness supporters are your neighbors; some new, some whose families have lived here since before some who campaigned against lived here. Wilderness designation doesn’t “lock up” a place, or lock out people who want to enjoy it through self-powered recreation. It doesn’t preclude hunting, fishing, berry and mushroom gathering. It doesn’t disallow horses or other stock. There are no locked gates at Wilderness trailheads.

And, though this idea is so ridiculous I can’t imagine the mindset necessary to believe it, there are no secret fortresses full of soldiers in blue helmets ready to take over the country in Wilderness.

After this sees publication, there might be pushback from folks who campaigned against. If there is, I encourage you to check out the validity of what they have to say.

Meanwhile, if you want to get in touch with me, I’ll be in the backcountry.