Open Spaces

By July 28, 2011 Brexico 3 Comments

One of the undeniable human instincts, I believe, is to want to claim land and space for oneself. It’s why property ownership was invented, it’s why wars have been fought, neighbors killed, guard dogs bred, white picket fences erected. Yet the whole reason I love living in the West is because of how much public land there is for everyone.

Now, if everyone actually ventured out and enjoyed this land, it would not be as sweet a place as it is. That’s the sad truth: I like that the land is public, but I love that the public isn’t crawling all over the land. Because, the fact is, there aren’t many people out in the mountains. Most days you can get up high and not see anyone.

So when I recently learned someone is writing a guidebook about all our local backcountry ski lines, I was bummed. It was instinctive, like mourning a loss.

Guidebooks are like talking maps; one step below dashboard-mounted GPS units. Do we really need talking maps? Or do we just need regular maps and word of mouth? This is a fundamental question, and certainly not a new one. Locals have long been protective of their surroundings. Look at Amazon tribes, or how localized surfing is.

Still bummed, I sent an e-mail to the guidebook writer — who happens to live an hour and a half away, on the Front Range — asking him why he was writing his guidebook. I was simply curious; I didn’t even beg him not to write the book. He never wrote me back. I can only surmise he is doing it for his ego — so everyone knows he skis the backcountry and is privy to all the stashes — or for money. And if it’s money … really? Who is projecting his sales numbers?

I’m aware there could be some hypocrisy here. I write for a living, and there have been stories in which I’ve included a tip for where to get a juicy burger or which outfitter to hire for a run down Gore Canyon. But I can never bring myself to write about a place’s true secrets. It’s easy money, but it comes with a dirty feeling, like I’ve just sold out every explorer who made a point to discover those secrets on his or her own.

Lately, another issue has been evoking similar philosophical thoughts: the collision of public lands and big business. Our local ski resort, which is part of a public corporation, and which brings in more visitors than any resort in America, is trying to expand onto a fifth peak. The issue is too deep and complex to dissect in this space, but basically, a bunch of locals are against it because the town’s already too crowded, and there are plenty who believe the expansion would attract so many more people that the new terrain wouldn’t even matter; the resort (and town) would become even more overwhelmed.

It’s turned into quite the political issue, as public-lands battles tend to do, but one of the main points of contention, as I see it, has more to do with the public process than the issue at hand. The sole decision maker is a federal employee who lives an hour away and candidly admits he never skis Breckenridge, nor spends much time in the town, least of all during the few weeks a year when it takes a half-hour to drive a half-mile down Main Street.

Which begs the question: That’s the best we can do? I realize the land, by definition, belongs as much to a farmer from Topeka as it does to me and everyone else who lives here. I’m not arguing that. But it’s one thing to allow equal entitlement, it’s another for outsiders to establish user rights and approve development when the implications are much broader than they realize, or care to admit — federal employee or not.

As for the guidebook writer, his book will come out and maybe we’ll see a few more people in the places where we used to see nobody. Not the end of the world, and certainly enriching for the new visitors. But as I wrote to him in my e-mail, if his reason for writing the book is to share these cool spots with others, why not let them experience the rush of finding the places on their own, or with a good friend leading them? Seems pretty fair to me.

3 Comments

  • Jared Bella says:

    There aren’t any skiing “secrets” in Summit County today like existed twenty years ago. Every accessible line has been skied. Last year I met a kid in Leadville who claimed to be going to ski a first descent in the Sawatch Range and wouldn’t say where, only said to check Summitpost.org. That’s why there are no secret lines here. I’d bet the writer of this guidebook is only writing about visible lines and lines he has learned about from other guidebooks. Let’s see if he writes about the J Chute or the (extremely easy to access) Eclipse Chutes. One thing that is kind of a secret is that there exists epic terrain within direct view of Frisco’s main Street that are rarely ridden. If Frisco was like Jackson Hole, Royal and Victoria would be tracked down to the dirt. Every time my friends and I ride the Hourglass Chute on Peak One, we head to the BCB for a Peak One Porter. Dank, dark and smooth. That is no secret. Nice article Deven! Kind of reminds me of Frank Gifford’s style in Backbone of the World.

  • John Mattson says:

    Somebody that I use to know in Flagstaff was planning on writing a guidebook to the addresses of guidebook authors. He never did it, but it might have been a good idea.

  • wfinley says:

    The argument gets so old. What bothers me most is this secret attitude and how you’ve applied it to the expansions onto Peaks 5 and 6. You write that locals are against the expansion onto peaks 5 and 6 because it will bring more people into your town. That’s a valid argument – more people can change the nature of a small community… However you’re approaching the problem of development encroaching on wild lands from a very narrow (and self centered) perspective. Instead of acknowledging that the peak 5 and 6 expansion would destroy wild lands you’re whining about how out-of-town visitors will show up and ski your secret stashes.

    You should be promoting the back country skiing on peaks 5 and 6 and promoting the “secret” stashes outside of town. The more people that ski them the less likely the ski area next door will expand and the less likely the USFS will do things like open wild areas to resource extraction. Areas miles from the road with long and steep approaches will never be overrun. Chances are if you do make it out that far and meet someone else you’ll most likely know that person – and if not chances are you’d like that person if you got to know them.

    Lose the secret stash attitude. There are bigger things to worry about other than your ego taking a blow when you see a kid out skiing your gnarly secret line. Get your friends excited to slog into wild lands and establish a backcountry ski area that they’re willing to fight for and we’ll see less news about expanding ski resorts and proposed shale oil development in our wild lands.

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