We only get one chance

By Eric Booton

 

Catch me in an urban setting, surrounded by impermeable surfaces and uninspiring skylines, and chances are I’m not actually there; mentally at least.  There is a summons that I cannot shake. Grinding away at the work week, making the calls and answering the emails, that keep my adventurous dreams afloat, it occupies all remaining capacity in my mind… where to next?  

 

Growing up on Colorado’s front range, public lands were a blessing for my family and a staple in my childhood.  I look back on fond memories of our family of four sleeping under the fabric roof of the same tent, fishing for native cutthroat trout on alpine lakes with my father, and exploring the winter wonderland of the rockies, battling through deep snow on a pair of snowshoes.

 

Fast forward two decades and 3,500 miles later - my baitcaster has been upgraded to a fly rod, I prefer two skis strapped to my feet as I ascend the mountains of the Chugach, and my fiance and our two dogs now join me in a tent under Alaska’s midnight sun.  Things have changed, but my mission remains the same: discover what is around the next bend.

 

With dirt on my hands, the kiss of the sun on the tip of my nose, and the scent of all things outdoors clinging to my clothes, I am home. I am privileged to have explored our public lands to the extent that I have and it’s every American’s birthright to do the same. Our public lands have made me who I am and I’m indebted to help protect them for you, me, and the adventurers of tomorrow.

 

Some of the earliest lessons that I can recall were to leave a campsite the way I found it (or better if possible), to pick up “trash flowers” while I hike, and leave no trace. It should come as no surprise that to me the need for conservation of the last of our remaining wild lands should go without saying.

With limited places that have yet to be unadulterated by the hands of man, we must act now to preserve what is left. We only get one chance, and the best odds of success are in the hands of the public who spend their weekends, vacations, and sick days exploring, or at the very least day-dreaming, about the millions of acres of wild lands we are blessed to have.