The nature and culture of parks

For as long as I can remember, I have gone camping. My parents took me camping for the first time when I was only one year old. Still in my playpen, we nestled in our retro tent (well it seems retro now) and camped for a few weeks during the summer months. After that, I am pretty sure we went camping every summer – because little me got completely hooked. When I got a bit older, my parents purchased a tent trailer in order to be able to travel for longer distances and for greater lengths of time. I have seen all of Canada that way (except the Territories and Newfoundland). One of those summers, we also travelled through Montana, Wyoming, North and South Dakota, and Michigan. I have also camped in Vermont, New York, Massachusetts, New Jersey, and Virginia. We even camped when we went to Disney World in Florida and had an Armadillo get into our cooler much the way you would expect a raccoon to get into one. It was quite the interesting sight.

I loved those experiences. I got to see so much of my own country, and a good portion of the United States. I have seen so many beautiful landscapes, experienced different cultures, and the animals I have seen – everything from bears (and quite up close), mountain goats, moose, elk, bald eagles, owls, and wolves (most of which I saw when I was in Alberta and British Columbia). What my family and I really enjoyed doing is getting up really early in the morning and taking drives at dawn, just to get a glimpse of these animals.

I have also always enjoyed learning about the history of the landscapes I have visited. For instance, I have been to Drumheller Valley and remember finding it fascinating that, first of all, that type of landscape exists in Canada, and secondly that many dinosaur bones were dug up from the area (therefore learning about both the nature and the culture of the landscape). Then there is the area in British Columbia that has some of the oldest trees in the world (I think we stayed in Saskquatch Provincial Park when we travelled to B.C.). I distinctly remember the sense of history in the landscape there (probably because the trees were so big and old, not to mention the legend of Big Foot, which is often told to tourists in the park). I also remember being completely fascinated when at night the entire ground would appear to be moving because of all the slugs on the ground (sounds gross I know, but really I was just worried about stepping on one on my way to our tent trailer).

I guess what I am trying to demonstrate is that my experiences camping have taught me a lot about “nature” and “culture”. In recent years (because I still enjoy camping), I have found myself particularly interested in participating in the educational walks that are put on by many parks. I enjoy both the ones that take you bird watching in the early mornings, as well as the ones that take you on a journey through the forest to learn about the history of the landscape; some of which take you to ruins and discusses what the land was once used for. It is particularly interesting because I recently read two chapters in a book entitled Public History and the Environment, edited by Martin V. Melosi and Philip V. Scarpino. The first chapter was written by Rebecca Conrad and was called “Spading Common Ground: Reconciling the Built and Natural Environments.” In this chapter she emphasizes the need for, and I quote, “historic preservationists, environmentalists, and land managers to spade common ground. Together we must find ways to produce messages of meaning for a broad public.” (18) It seems like a very ambitious idea to get these three groups of people to work together, but I also believe it is important. And one of my favourite parks, Algonquin Provincial Park, might be a good example of these different groups working somewhat together (although I do not have proof that that is the case).

Algonquin Provincial Park spans an area of approximately 7,700 square kilometres. As you can see on their website, http://www.algonquinpark.on.ca/, they have the Park Interior that is to provide the “real wilderness experience”, which is only accessible to the public by canoe or on foot. There is also the Parkway Corridor, which has approximately 8 campgrounds that are accessible right off highway 60 and provide comfortable amenities, such as flush toilets, showers, stores, gift shops, restaurants, and rental facilities for canoes and bikes. In Conrad’s article, she points out that, “Despite the fact that most of us want to experience nature with modern conveniences handy, we are nonetheless compelled to declare some places off-limits to all but the lightest of human use where we ostensibly let nature take its course unimpeded.” (4) That seems to be exactly what has happened in Algonquin. Part of what drew people to Algonquin at the end of the nineteenth century was the railroad that was built into it. It made this vast landscape more accessible for people. The railroad is no longer used and is now a part of Algonquin’s “built environment”, however now highway 60 runs through it, so people can get to it quite easily and experience “nature” while having access to these amenities. Not to mention, as Conrad also states, it has become a lot about recreation, hence the rental facilities. Then there the “off-limits” areas of Algonquin – the interior – where only the, what I am going to call, “hardcore” campers venture to really experience nature (I would really love to experience that one day).

There are some problems with this picture however. I have camped in Algonquin many times (along the parkway corridor), and the fact that a highway goes right through this landscape is very intrusive. When you are camping in one of the 8 campgrounds along the highway, you can sometimes hear the noise of it (some of the campgrounds are closer than others and I have ridiculously good hearing, so it sometimes bothers me). One of the main reasons you hear the noise from the road is that many transport trucks use this route. Another part of the experience of camping along highway 60 is that you more often than not, see the majestic moose along the side of the road (they are especially attracted to roadside in the spring because when the snow melts it leaves the water salty and they enjoy drinking it). I have seen far too many of these animals lying on the side of the road who have been struck by speeding vehicles. But at the same time, it is how I am able to get to Algonquin. Also, apparently (from what I have heard and remember) there is a good portion of the interior of Algonquin where logging still occurs. This is an example of what David Glassberg writes in his chapter, “Interpreting Landscapes”. He says that “Most powerfully, landscapes bear the imprint of economic forces.” (23) This is particularly true of Algonquin which has a rich a long history of logging. They even have a Logging Museum that can be accessed off of highway 60 (which is also an example of the “culture” you can experience while at the park). I have taken the tour and it is quite interesting. During this tour, I remember the interpreter discussing the issue of present day logging in Algonquin. Although it is economically valuable, apparently it is also environmentally beneficial (strange I know – I did not see how that could be at first). However, if you think about it, the interaction between man and nature has existed for a very very very long time. Even Natives would have cut down trees to clear plots of land. The interpreter pointed out that the areas that are chosen to be cut down and carefully selected, and are quite small and are far from one another. And what happens is by cutting down these small areas of land, it gives for room for new growth and prevents larger sections of trees from getting diseases from each other (something to that affect). He urged us not to judge too quickly before understanding the reasons and process of logging in Algonquin.

What Algonquin Park basically demonstrates is that the historic, environmental, and economic factors that exist within it, which seem to function with one another quite well (for the most part). At least from my limited knowledge and perspective. My biggest issue with the park is that highway. It is too wide, the speed limit is too high, and I really wish they would not allow any transport trucks through it – but I am an animal lover and it just breaks my heart when I see dead animals lying on the side of the road. I think that one of the ways to maybe come to some sort of solution to all kinds of issues that exists within all parks, would be for the historic preservationists, environmentalists, and land managers to work together.

In a way I think that the landscapes I have visited have an altogether different history for me…they are a part of my history. The memories I have attached to many of these places are so precious to me. And yet I know if I visited a lot of these places I would be slightly disappointed because they would be somewhat different from the way that I remember them. A great deal of that would have to do with the changes that have occurred to these places because of the way that humans have interacted with these landscapes over the years since I was a child. Not to mention new technologies and economic demands that have also played a significant role in altering the landscapes within parks. I think the nature and culture of the landscape is losing out in the battle. I know that in Banff, Alberta there have been a lot of new developments put up (which means a lot of the natural landscape has changed). I have watched many documentaries that illustrate the concerns they have with the development that has undergone there. It makes me extremely sad to think of that place (what I consider my favourite place in Canada – but again that is based on my memories of it, not its current state). However, the changes that have occurred in that area tell us something about our present day culture.

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As a side note, the experiences I had as a child visiting many of these provincial, state, and national parks probably also contributed to my interest in public history. I just hope that more is done to preserve the history, culture, and nature of these wonderful landscapes. It seems now, more so than it did when I was a child, that these issues need to be addressed. But the fact that we are talking about it and showing concern for it, is also saying something about our culture. That we don't want to lose the history and nature many of these landscapes hold for us - and that we are trying to take some courses of action to help preserve it, while still making it accessible to the public. It is all about balance (as I have said before even when talking about Public History)...