Denver
to Los Angeles. Los Angeles to New
Orleans. New Orleans to Atlanta. And back to New Orleans.
Thanks, Dad |
These adventures were definitely not of the
greenest variety, being
that they were
all driving - in
my 10-year-old SUV -
by myself (although, in
my defense, I did make a game out of seeing how many miles I could
squeeze out of each tank of gas. Straight
coastin’…)
That disappointing fact aside, I cannot express
how completely and utterly amazing the experiences have been. I have developed an extreme
appreciation for my surroundings, and I attribute that to the time I have spent in Colorado. When asked what it is
about Colorado that I love so much, I often explain how Coloradoans simply seem to enjoy life and
what is around them. When the sun
is out in Colorado, you are out in Colorado. If you’re stuck inside for any
reason, you’re counting the minutes until you can get outside to enjoy the
outdoors and the sunshine. Despite
my love for the environment, it wasn’t until this past year that I developed
such an extreme thirst for the
outdoors.
This thirst has since opened my eyes to the
beauty surrounding me. I began to
notice this “awakening” while still in CO, splitting my time between city life
in Denver and mountain life in Conifer, and it really hit me during the first couple of hundred miles in the initial
trek from Colorado back home to Glendora, California. Everything was gorgeous-
the mountains, the trees, the rock walls, the sand, the rivers, the tunnels,
the way the road curved. No foot of scenery was the same; each
move forward caught new light, shifted direction, changed in some subtle way that created something brand new and
beautiful- none of which could be properly recorded on camera.
The feelings of amazement and recognition of
beauty did not stop once we hit the Colorado plains, nor did it dissipate in
the miles and miles of Utah, the small stint in Arizona, the pull through
Nevada, or the home stretch through California (although, I will admit that Nevada did give them a
run for their money). Throughout the 16 hours
traveling west
from Denver, I
realized first-hand
just how diverse
the United States of America are. There are so many different landscapes,
biomes, ecosystems, vistas… If I
felt this way driving across the varying, but comparatively homogeneous, route
of I-70W and I-15S, what was to come from my trips later that month?
Needless to say, I was excited to drive to
Louisiana. I was even more excited
because I had four days to do it- plenty of time to allow for off the path
meanderings and exploration.
Leaving Glendora, driving along the highways (or I guess in this case,
freeways) that I’ve seen countless times, I felt like I was seeing everything
through different eyes. It was as if a dulling lens
had been removed from my vision; everything I was looking at was so much more
clear and vibrant.
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Benson, AZ |
Maybe it was that I was actually looking around me, as opposed to just driving by like I had
done for the past 23 years. The San
Gabriel Mountains were gorgeous.
The windmills on the way to Palm Desert were awe-some. Arizona was not just desert. Cacti are amazing - no two alike - and
you could actually see where the vegetation switched from supporting an
abundance of cacti to loads of yucca plants (which also grow along the highways
in Los Angeles, I might add).
Arizona is where I witnessed my first sunset - it was beautiful. As beautiful and orange and purple as
the sunset was, the sunrise early the next morning coming out of Benson, AZ was
even more amazing. The rising and
setting of the sun was definitely something that I had never appreciated
before, a fact that I am now extremely embarrassed to admit.
Then I reached New Mexico.
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Pecos, TX |
I don’t think there are enough words in the
English language to describe all of the feelings I encountered during the
journey across New Mexico. I could almost go on forever, literally. Let’s just put it this way: The question, or catch phrase, or
however you want to put it: “Who knew?!?!!” concisely sums up my New Mexican experience. It was here that I ventured off the
mapped route and headed towards White Sands National Monument and Carlsbad
Caverns- two remarkable places connected
by a highway that weaves through the Lincoln National Forest. It is here in this Forest, which I had no prior
knowledge of existing, that the entirety of my appreciation reached its peak. (Do not let the term “peak” fool you
though, there has yet to be any sign of decline after that point.)
This is not supposed to be a chronicle of my
cross-country experience though, so I will have to give Texas the short end of
the stick… I enjoyed my 30 or so hours there very much though! I would, however, like to quickly add that it was in
Beaumont, TX (where gas was only $3.19) that I was slapped in the face by
humidity. I was shocked how at one
time when I was out of the car it was hot and desert-y and the next it was
still hot, but disgustingly
sticky. The shift had to have
happened somewhere before Beaumont when surroundings all of a sudden became
incredibly green, and progressively greener the further east I got.
Louisiana, at least southern Louisiana, should
definitely be deemed something along the lines of “The Bridge State”. Driving over, literally over, all of
the water reminded me how much we have changed the natural environment to suit
ourselves. If it weren’t for the
bridge, it would be a lot more difficult to inhabit this area, but someone
found a way to fix that…
Thank you to this drive across the United
States. Thank you to California,
Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and Louisiana.
Fredericksburg, TX |
I remember why I am doing what I am doing. I remember why I am so passionate about the environment and
sustainability. I wouldn’t say
that I ever lost the drive to work to protect the environment, but this
experience acted as a great “recharge”. We have lands set aside and protected
from development (the national monuments, state parks, etc.), and it would be
great to add more, but there is a simpler way. We can stop developing on the vast open areas
that are still left, but not under any official protection (i.e. the stretch
between Denver and the airport, or any of the expanses of land along, and
beyond, Interstate 10).
We need to learn to live with what we have. It is time to go back to coexisting
with the environment,
as opposed to conquering it.
Conquest only leads to problems in the long run.
Dominating the coast of Louisiana has led to the deterioration of acres
upon acres of wetlands, seriously hindering a natural source of storm
protection. We experience a similar catastrophe in
Southern California every year when wildfires run rampant almost each
fall. This area, like many others
before development, was actually a fire-dependent ecosystem. Instead, we have controlled and
prevented fires from occurring naturally, leading to the accumulation of
characteristics that encourage the development of wildfires that are detrimental
to both people and the environment.
Everything I have seen in the past 30+ days, nature and city based,
has reiterated where our greatest need for improvement is. Sustainability needs to become an
aspect of everyday life. Environmentally conscious decisions should
be subconscious decisions. The
way we live our lives needs to take in to account both the beauty of our
surroundings and the need to preserve that beauty. This is not hard. We have simply come to confuse the
definitions of want and need. We
think we need so much more than we do, therefore taking too much from the earth
and risking its life in turn.
Things can only get better if we begin to live sustainable lives and if
the corporations that surround us commit to doing the same.
White Sands National Monument, New Mexico |
Lincoln National Forest, New Mexico |
Carlsbad Caverns National Park, New Mexico |
Covert Park at Mount Bonnell, Austin, Texas |