Our Greatest Loss

            After reading Robert Glennon’s “A Land Not Saved,” it became apparent to me that the Adirondack Park, as it exists today, may cease to exist in time.  As people continue to demand further development in the park in the name of economic progress, and politicians, unaware of the historical and aesthetic value of the park, give in to these demands, the fate of the Adirondack land will fall into the hands of housing developers, event committees and business owners.   Evidently, humans run the risk of not only impacting the Adirondack landscape, but, destroying it entirely.   I have heard many conversations like this, regarding human actions and their influence on the climate and the environment.  Yet, for me, there is a larger question at hand: how will loss of the Adirondacks affect society?  Later generations may only recognize a dried up, deforested landscape that once was the Adirondack Park and therefore will not morn its absence.  But I believe that without the life lessons introduced by landscapes like the Adirondacks, society will be at a loss.

            For me, the Adirondack Park, and the outdoors in general have proven to be a valuable source of physical and intellectual growth.  I grew up spending portions of my summers and falls enjoying the Adirondacks’ mountains, lakes, and forests, and it was these experiences that have shaped me as a person.  Jumping into seemingly bottomless lakes, I learned to be a more confident swimmer, and hiking in the woods I found that it is not always a good idea to fend too far from the trail.  I learned how to kayak, row a boat, and more importantly, paddle myself out of oncoming thunderstorms, working through panic and fatigue.  One could argue that life lessons such as these could be taught through attempts to ride a bike or throw a baseball.  However, there is something authentic about being on a lake or in the woods that triggers the human body’s autonomic nervous system and its problem solving ability.  For me, it was thinking and acting for myself that made these lessons stick.

            The Adirondacks also serve as a fertile ground for academic development.  In fact, the Ancient Romans first tapped into the intellectual value of the outdoors with the establishment of outdoor forums where political debates and academic discussions took place.  Similarly, artists, scientists, and philosophers in the United States found great inspiration in the outdoors, specifically in the Adirondack wilderness.  This was exemplified during the 1858 Philosopher’s Camp during which Ralph Waldo Emerson produced the poem Adriondac, William James Stillman fashioned the painting Philosopher’s Camp, and Louis Agassiz discovered a freshwater sponge.  My own experiences have spoken to the educational value of the Adirondacks as well.  Specifically, I go on hikes and camping trips with family and friends for the sole purpose of engaging in open discussions, conversations, and debates related to class subjects, political issues, and personal beliefs.  The Adirondacks quite literally offers an open space that beckons people to converse, listen, observe, and learn, making the educational value of the park indubitable.

            It is important that we acknowledge what we as a society will lose if the Adirondacks, and other similar landscapes, continue to be destroyed.  Future generations may be blissful, content and occupied by television, smart phones, and tablets in the absence of the Adirondacks.  Yet, people will most likely lack in physical and cerebral understandings gained from kayaking through a rainstorm, painting a serene landscape, or finding their way back to a trail.   Thus, efforts to protect and preserve the Adirondack Park must not only consider what humans are doing to the park, but what the park is doing for us.