Soul of a Community

The last gift that I received from my father before his passing was a National Geographic Atlas of the World. My mother had passed away only months before; this was probably the first time that my father had selected a gift for me entirely by himself. It was a recognition of my love of maps, and the joy they give me.

This particular edition beautifully highlights the world’s parks and other protected areas with a richly enveloping shade of green that particularly draws my attention. There on the pages depicting the Pacific Northwest are the familiar outlines of North Cascades, Mount Rainier and Olympic National Parks, which I know intimately from a lifetime of exploration and many years wearing the grey and green uniform of a national park ranger. My tenure as a public servant sworn to protect those green spaces included solitary days atop Desolation Peak as a fire lookout, naturalist talks for thousands of park visitors on trails, at campgrounds and overlooks, and a hike on the Thunder Creek trail that changed my life forever when I met my wife, Patty.

Every one of those green-shaded areas represent stories—of the bones and flesh of the landscape, of people who made a living there, worked to give it a green shading on a map, and protect and enjoy it today; of communities engaged in the work of maintaining a healthy world.

A couple of months ago, as Patty recovered from surgery and we looked closely at what mattered most to us as we contemplate our post-middle-age-pre-retirement life, I suggested an idea that would marry our desires for explorational experiences, low-impact fitness, and a desire to contribute to a conversation about the values we cherish: we will attempt to visit each of the Washington State Parks in the next 10 years.

The Washington State Parks & Recreation Commission owns or manages about 200 properties covering over 130,000 acres. Of those, we plan to visit the 150 parks that are currently developed for public use. They range in size from less than 1 acre memorializing Ranald McDonald in Ferry County to the sprawling 13,919 acres enveloping Mount Spokane. They are found less than 1 mile from our house (Birch Bay) to 443 miles away in the opposite corner of the state (Fields Spring). Paradise Point is bisected by the roaring traffic of I-5, while the approach to isolated Clark Island will require concentrated paddling skills.

Each of the parks serve as a focus for subjects of interest to me. As a naturalist with a geology specialization, I am always seeking to connect and reconnect to the bedrock that outlines everything on this planet, and attempt to weave an understanding of how the human story has played out on it. From the fossils in the coves of Sucia Island to the basalt collonades framing Palouse Falls, there is plenty to contemplate. From the giant Douglas firs of Rockport to the pikas of Mount Pilchuck, there is a multitude of life to admire. From the first beginning of the state park system at Larrabee to the current land management planning at Riverside, parks have mirrored the aspirations of society. There is joy to be experienced from a night camping under the stars (or raindrops) of Cape Disappointment to kayaking with the currents to Saddlebag Island. There are reminders of amazing people who have been here from Sacajawea, guide and savior to Lewis and Clark on their long hiking and paddling trip, to Wolf Bauer who taught us to see beaches from a new perspective.

Native people have lived here for perhaps more than 10,000 years, bound to this land in a culture profoundly of this place. The last 250 years have been marked by accelerating impacts to the place and people, yet unquestionably, the tribes retain a sense of timeless permanence, repeatedly leveraging protective actions with significant consequences. From Illahee (Home Place) to Olallie (berries) many parks are grounded in Native American values. Many sites bear witness to the subjugation of native lives, as in the military occupation and later enforced schooling at Fort Simcoe. Also, many sites attest to the yearnings of Euro-American explorers and settlers coming into the land, extracting its resources, and as the human population expanded, creating immense impacts on the land, wildlife, air and water. In more recent times, parks have exemplified attempts toward restoration and reconciliation both with the land and its finite capabilities and with the original peoples of this place.

Preparing this post, I came across an interview with Rex Derr, the Director of Washington State Parks from 2002 to 2010. In it, the interviewer asked what parks add to a community. His response:

They add heart. They add opportunity. They add soul …When people need to be resurrected from stressful times, when they need to enjoy the company of friends or family, when they need to reconnect with the air or … the environs, they head to parks. So it's a pretty fundamental base for people to stand on… Parks are like home plate that embodies all that is …that can be religious, spiritual, practical, and invigorating.  –Rex Derr

It is a lot of territory to cover! I hope you will enjoy this travelogue into the soul of a community.

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--David Bean

   Birch Bay, Washington