The Crested Butte News Serving the Gunnison Valley since 1999
It was like going to church last Sunday but different…in a good way. Having spent 12 years in Catholic school, I know church. But Sunday was a spiritual experience in the aspen forest not far from my house. While I can appreciate a brick-and-mortar church, I embrace the sanctity of the aspens in our valley and what they do for the soul.
It rained hard Sunday afternoon for the first time in weeks. The petrichor, the smell of new rain, awakened the call of nature to be found in the nearby woods. So, I hopped on the bike and headed to the trail beneath cloudy skies thinking I’d find a tacky trail instead of moondust.
It appeared one other bike track was ahead of me but otherwise the trailhead was quiet. It only got quieter the deeper I went into the woods. The rain had definitely tacked up the trail. A few puddles had gathered after an hour of hard rain, but the aspen forest was a sea of tranquility. The green leaves were shiny and clean instead of dusty and drooping. The beginning of the yellow was muted but the underbrush was a kaleidoscope of reds and browns, greens and gold.
The quiet was deep, but the smells were even deeper. The fragrance was like a lingering incense after high mass. I stopped several times to listen, to look, to breathe. It was indeed spiritual. The early evening “God-light,” as photographers all the beams of sunlight cutting through clouds or leaves, bathed the trees and added a biblical touch. Serenity covered the woods as the aspens drank in the new moisture. Giant boulders glistened like alters. It was holy. I was blessed.
Such experiences that are more normal here than most places lend an understanding to why people get upset when those in power want to turn every inch of nature into some kind of human “improvement.” Look, I know being on a human-made trail defiles the pristine to some extent, but it is a pathway to church, to spirit, to love.
Like many, I take umbrage when someone like Utah senator Mike Lee wants to sell off our public lands with the goal of using them for profit, housing or industrial extraction. I understand using minerals from the earth to better our lives, but not every inch of nature has to be plundered. I cringe when I read of Donald’s policies slashing the jobs of people responsible for protecting much of our public lands, our air and our water. By cutting Forest Service positions or promoting mining in places like the Mojave National Preserve, this administration has clearly sent the message that none of our treasured natural landscapes are safe to just be. Crested Butte is surrounded by treasured landscapes that should just be.
I understand we here at the top of the headwaters exploit nature as well and use it to fund our economy. It is the draw of the unspoiled wild that attracts tourists here, sometimes too many tourists, to experience nature. But through local efforts, we do what we can to mitigate the negative impacts and protect the natural resource that not only provides us a living but our animal neighbors with a place to live and the planet a place to breathe.
In that vein, one of the sacred trails, Snodgrass, has closed for the season to accommodate ranching operations. As usual, there are some people upset with that decision. I am not one of them.
While Snodgrass is one of the holy places on a bike, I look at it as having a chance to restore itself from a summer of heavy tourism. As a recreationist, I relate more to mountain bikes than cattle, but as a neighbor of ranchers, I understand their desire to not always mix the two. And I strongly believe that what makes this place special compared to other mountain resorts…is the integrity of working ranches in the valley. Recreationists should do what they can to make ranching lives and businesses easier. We want to keep them working and contributing to the uniqueness that is Crested Butte and the Gunnison Valley. So, respect our neighbor’s request to take a break from Snodgrass until next spring. Honestly, we are fortunate to be in a place with more than one temple hidden within the local woods, and they are easy to find if you seek them out.
The abundance of open spaces, wilderness, forests, streams and mountains that surround us all provide peace, tranquility and opportunity to reengage with the spirit. They are refuges of mental health and offer opportunity for contemplation. They are holy, like church. And going to church last Sunday in that aspen forest on the flank of the Mother Rock was good for the soul.
—Mark Reaman
