Every Saturday morning, hundreds of thousands of people around the country get up before dawn and jump into their cars for a several hour drive to their nearest wild place. Once there they recreate, rejuvenate, enjoy the wonders of the wild before returning to their homes in time for dinner. The collective carbon output of those enjoying the outdoors is well documented (see: Yosemite Valley, Yellowstone, and Great Smoky), and I am a contributor like the rest.

Changing The Way I Recreate

Each day off that I have, I go through the same ritual of “driving-recreating-driving back home”. This is particularly ironic in my case, as I live in an area surrounded by wild lands: a National Park, a National Forest, BLM land, and two private Preserves all lie within ten miles of my home. So why on earth do I consume hundreds of gallons of gas a year driving to the farthest flung spots on the map so that I can get my dose of the wild while I recreate?

I can no longer justify this. The poet Gary Snyder once said, “Being a member of a place is to be in a relationship.” This week, I decided to begin to enter more fully into that relationship. To know the ecosystem in which I live, to know its rhythms and cycles, and to truly be a member of my place.

Learning About a Different Kind of Wild

This has produced a number of interesting encounters. On Monday, I headed south of town, toward a small peak I can see from my bedroom window. I had a bit of a run-in with a pack of howling, snarling, barking dogs whose owners presumably know that they are on the loose, but are happy for the protection. Just yesterday, I had my partner Sam drop me off on her way to work, and I hiked up a long canyon and ridge to get back home. Passing through a homeless encampment and an illegal trash dump proved a slight diversion from my normal wild-lands experience; but ending my hike with a cold beer out of my refrigerator (rather than a 3 hour drive home) was rewarding.

Another day I headed up a quite steep peak just across the highway from my home—up through juniper and scrub oak I scrambled, with a stiff wind howling down from the higher mountain range to the west. After topping out on the ridge and enjoying the view, I started to blast down the hillside toward town. My descent was little more than a controlled fall, and before I knew it I was stumbling into someone’s backyard. They happened to be out that morning, hanging up their laundry. And there I was, clad in rain gear (to block the wind), a balaclava, and big sunglasses, looking like some kind of deranged REI-Storm Trooper.

Find Resources for Yourself

Depending on where you live, there are a variety of local resources. If you live near federal land, get in touch with your local BLM Office or National Forest for more information on public lands near you. In places somewhat less wide-open, State, County, or City Parks or lands can provide close-to-home options for recreation. Land Trusts can also provide you with info on local areas to get outdoors and have fun.

All in all, shifting the focus of my recreation from far-flung to closer-in has had a positive impact on my life so far. I’m spending less time in the car, and more time outdoors. I’m using a fraction of the gas I would otherwise use. And I’m getting to know the place that I live in (feral dogs and all) much better than I did before.