Bead 25: Notes from the Road + National Park Price Hikes

On November 3, my son and I drove out of our neighborhood and down the road toward Madera.  That felt normal enough.  Living in the Sierra Nevada foothills, there are myriad reasons to descend to the Valley every now and then—Costco, Trader Joe’s, the airport, jury duty.  What didn’t feel normal that day was that, after a quick errand in Madera, we kept driving.  And driving.  And driving.  

We made it to Truckee that night; to Portland a few days later.  Then came Seattle, Bellingham, Ellensburg, La Grande.  Then Utah, New Mexico.  Still we kept driving. 

Five thousand miles later, I am finally catching my breath.  We aren’t home yet.  Actually, we are just the opposite: homeless.  We gave up our rental in California and have assumed a new, mobile life, stitching our way between friends and family all around the country, camping some, springing for Airbnb’s in the blank spots on the map, regions without loved ones.

Six weeks into our indeterminate journey, we have crossed fifteen states.  We have invaded nine households, lingering for two hours or two days; in one case, ten days.  Now we’re with my sister and her family in Kentucky.  The plan is to stay here for a full month, until after the New Year.  For once, I have fully extracted my clothes from my backpack and arranged them on hangers, in drawers.  I have joined a gym.  It feels good.

But the road feels good, too.  It’s what I chose.  Fall came, and like the Sierran songbirds, I knew it was time to move.  Unlike the songbirds, I had no idea where to go.  So I decided just to go around for a while, until our landing spot came into focus.

One of our temporary homes over the last 6 weeks, Gallo Campground in Chaco Culture National Historical Park, NM

One thing I have not done on the road is be political.  In fact, I’d estimate I fell off the wagon a full month shy of our departure date.  There were so many boxes to pack, logistics to manage, goodbyes to say.  What had earlier in the year felt like end times started to feel more like background noise.  I couldn’t make myself care anymore.  No matter what I did, there would be shitty new news everyday.

I felt a little guilty about letting my Beads lapse.  But just a little.  Wouldn’t it be fun, I thought, to try lighter writing?  I could start a new blog about our travels.  I would call it Roadstead, named for the fact that we are, amid all the visits and sightseeing, searching for our homestead.  Or I could not start a new blog.  I could just suddenly morph 52 Beads into Roadstead.  “And for my next Bead, I will buy a new traveling houseplant!”  That sort of thing.

But now, with time to breathe, I can feel my engine starting up again.  Not my four-cylinder Subaru engine; that’s thankfully cooling in my sister’s front yard.  My resistance engine.  I can’t say I’m feeling especially indignant or emotional about anything.  I’m not burning to pick up the phone or paint a sign, like before.  But I’m aware that, while I’ve been drifting, the world has continued to burn.  And I’m feeling ready to once again do my part. 

Pueblo Bonito, Chaco Culture National Historical Park, NM

 

Just before Thanksgiving, in Chaco Culture National Historical Park, I renewed my “America the Beautiful” pass.  That’s my annual $80 ticket to any National Park, National Monument, National Forest, or National Recreation Area I care to visit, good for me and whoever I can fit in my car.  It felt especially important to renew my pass right then because of the Department of the Interior’s October 24 proposal to more than double the entrance fees at our 17 top-revenue National Parks during peak visitation season.  I naturally expected price hikes for the annual passes, too.

“I have to buy this now, before it goes up to $150,” I said to the interpretative ranger who was running my debit card.

“Yeah, or $500,” he said.

As it turns out, the America the Beautiful pass will hold steady at $80.  But at Yellowstone, Yosemite, Glacier, and Arches, what was once an affordable family outing will become a luxury.  

It’s the latest assault by the Trump Administration on public lands.  It wasn’t enough for them to illegally shrink two of our National Monuments.  It wasn’t enough for them to expedite oil and gas development on BLM land, notwithstanding sluggish markets.  It wasn’t enough for them to tuck into their nearly-enacted tax bill a plan to drill 1.5 million acres of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, bucking majority American opinion after a four-decade fight.  

The new $70-per-car price tag at our most iconic parks will ensure a subtle demographic shift in park use as a whole.  Greater representation by foreign tourists, retired people, upper income earners.  Less representation by American families, millennials, the working class.

And once the demographics change, what sorts of tweets can we expect from our de facto President?

Real Americans say "been there, done that" to Grand Canyon!  Time to end welfare for washed-up National Parks.  LATER, LOSERS!

There's no doubt our National Parks need money.  The Trump Administration has proposed a budget of $2.6 billion for the National Park Service in fiscal year 2018, about 13 percent lower than the previous year.  The cuts mean less money to deal with maintenance backlogs, less money to keep up with current operations--and 1,200 lost jobs.  It's sink or swim for the NPS, and with the proposed entrance fee hikes, they are presumably trying to recoup their losses.

But there are other ways to get the money, other coffers to draw from.  Why do our parks get $2.6 billion per year while fossil fuel production gets subsidized to the tune of $20 billion?  And what about the U.S. military budget of $825 billion for fiscal year 2018? 

We are long overdue for a shakedown of our American values.

The National Park Service is accepting public comments on the entrance fee increases until December 22.  I submitted my comments today.  If I can come back from my two-month political hiatus and long-distance driving binge to do this, I know you can, too.  Check out this fact sheet on the rate increases and the affected parks.  Tell the National Park Service what your National Parks mean to you, and why they should stay in the hands of all Americans. 

Zac exploring an ancient room at Pueblo Bonito, Chaco Culture National Historical Park, NM