A Diversity Problem

In my last post, I mentioned how the great outdoors suffers from a lack of diversity - both racial and economic. You visit a national park, sleep in a campsite, raft a river, climb a mountain or even just go on a hike and, chances are, the majority of the people you'll run into are white.

That diversity gap, which was the topic of our fellowship seminar yesterday, is something that our speaker, James Edward Mills, is very familiar with. He's worked in the outdoor industry since 1989 in a variety of roles - guide, outfitter, sales rep - often as the only African-American around. He's also a freelance journalist and his latest project is a shiny new book called The Adventure Gap: Changing The Face of the Outdoors. 

That face - as I mentioned - is largely white. But US demographics are shifting and by the year 2042, it's expected that the majority of the country's population will be made up of people of color. Protecting our natural treasures means engaging more diverse communities in caring for the outdoors and Mills argues that one of the first steps toward this is creating good, multicultural role models who can inspire a more diverse group of kids to get outside. But where to find those role models?

Well, you can start with unearthing them from long-forgotten history. 

Here's one example - the Buffalo Soldiers, the African-American members of the U.S. Army cavalry regiments, which were formed in 1866 to fight in the Indian Wars. In the early part of the 20th century, 400 of these soldiers were tasked with patrolling national parks, including Yosemite and Sequoia. They were some of the nation's first park rangers - laying trails, patrolling forests, building roads - before the park system really even existed. It's a story that Mills - an outdoor adventurer since he was a kid - hadn't heard until he sat down with filmmaker Ken Burns in 2008. And if he hadn't heard it, you can bet that an inner city kid probably doesn't know that story, either.

Another example - Matthew Henson. His name likely doesn't ring any bells but that of his traveling companion will - Captain Robert Peary, leader of the first successful expedition to the North Pole. Henson was born in Maryland in 1866. At age 12, he went to sea and spent six years learning navigation and sailing. Upon his return, he started working at a furrier's shop and one of his customers was Peary, who took a liking to Henson and hired him as his valet. Henson quickly became an integral part of Peary's expeditions - the two of them explored Greenland and made multiple attempts at reaching the North Pole. Finally, in 1909, they were successful - but because Henson was African-American, his contribution was overlooked (in fact, for years, the success of the entire expedition was doubted because there was no white person other than Peary to verify the story). 

As for modern role models?

Well, there's Charles Crenchaw - the first African-American man to summit Denali, the highest mountain in North America, in 1964, just seven days after the Civil Rights Amendment became law.

There's Sophia Danenberg - the first African-American and the first black woman to summit Mt. Everest, in 2006. 

And there's the group at the center of Mills's book - the first, all African-American team to make an attempt on Denali. Spoiler alert - after enduring major avalanches and some unseasonably warm weather, they didn't quite make it, after being driven off the mountain by a lightning storm. But as the expedition's website says: 

...the ultimate objective was not just to make mountaineering history, but to build a legacy by paving a way for young people of color to get outside, get active, get healthy, become passionate about America’s wild places, and chase their own Denali-sized dreams.

While every member of the Expedition Denali team was an experienced outdoorsman (or woman), they also were community leaders - in education, journalism, business, mountaineering, with youth groups and outdoor organizations. And when they finished this adventure, they went back to their lives as representatives of what can adventures can be had in the great outdoors - no matter your race. 

And building a broader coalition of outdoor enthusiasts doesn't have to involve something as arduous (or as expensive) as climbing a mountain. Hiking, walking, observing nature - those things are all free, or close to it, and usually more accessible. Role models play a part here, too - it can be as simple as taking a kid to explore a nearby park or forest, helping them fall in love with a place, not just for now, but for a lifetime. That's something that should happen in every community - regardless of race or economic background - if we want people to feel like these beautiful spaces belong just as much to them as to anyone else.

Smallest Area Compatible

I meant to write about this last week but then had out of town visitors and didn't get around to it. But you don't want excuses! You want information! So I bring you a (slightly) dated entry on some news from last Friday.

On October 10, President Obama announced he would use his authority under the 1906 Antiquities Act to turn approximately 350,000 acres of national forest land in California's San Gabriel Mountains into a national monument. Those 350,000 acres are now permanently protected - no new development, no new mining claims - for the purposes of increased recreation and improved opportunities and access, especially for people living near those mountains.

Personally, I find this pretty exciting - when I lived in Pasadena, the San Gabriels (which are northeast of LA) were right out my front door. They're an imposing wall of a mountain range, rising quickly from nearly sea level up to 6,000 feet in elevation. From a distance, they look dry and foreboding, almost impenetrable. But up close, you can find all kinds of canyons and ravines that are much more lush than you would ever expect in such an arid place. Hundreds of miles of trails criss-cross these peaks, which also serve as a home to some of California's endangered species (like the condor), as well as provide about 30 percent of LA's drinking water.

And what's really cool is that 15 million people live within ninety minutes of those mountains. LA County is one of the poorest in California. It's among the most disadvantaged in the nation when it comes to access to parks and outdoor spaces for minorities and kids. The San Gabriels are one of the biggest open spaces available to Angelenos and, by preserving these mountains, the administration ensures that this area will have more resources for maintenance, restoration, education and access. (Although I do wonder about those people who don't have cars available to use - does this really improve things for them?)

All in all, though, this is a pretty neat development, both for LA and for public lands. The national park system and outdoor recreation as a whole suffer from a lack of racial and economic diversity. Having open land and recreational spaces that are more easily available to poor and minority communities can only mean good things. More on this in a future post - we have someone coming to talk to our fellowship about just this issue later this week.

For now let's turn back to that Antiquities Act - the legislation that gave the president the right to create this national monument in the San Gabriels. 

In 1906, Congress passed a bill allowing the president to set aside chunks of public land for the protection of landmarks, structures, areas of historical or natural importance, or scientific or ecological significance. The bill also established penalties for destroying or taking objects from these areas and only granted permits for archeological excavation to reputed scientific and educational institutions, "with a view to increasing the knowledge of such objects, and that the gatherings shall be made for permanent preservation in public museums."

This legislation grew out of a desire to protect certain areas (especially Native American ruins in the Southwest) from trophy hunters, vandalism and destruction. President Theodore Roosevelt - widely considered America's "Conservationist President" - signed it into law within hours of its arrival on his desk on June 8, 1906. Roosevelt didn't waste any time putting it to use, either. In September of that same year, he set aside Devil's Tower in Wyoming as a National Monument. He went on to create 17 more of these national monuments before he left power in 1909. Among those were some HUGE chunks of land - including 800,000 acres in and around the Grand Canyon - which Roosevelt defended using this clause from the new law (emphasis mine): 

That the President of the United States is hereby authorized, in his discretion, to declare by public proclamation historic landmarks, historic and prehistoric structures, and other objects of historic or scientific interest that are situated upon the lands owned or controlled by the Government of the United States to be national monuments, and may reserve as a part thereof parcels of land, the limits of which in all cases shall be confined to the smallest area compatible with proper care and management of the objects to be protected...

It's not entirely clear if the original architects of the Antiquities Act intended for such enormous withholdings to be declared national monuments. The historical records from the time show some squabbling over the final wording - they may have expected only smaller parcels to be protected. However you have to wonder, given President Roosevelt's activist nature, if there wasn't some inkling of what might happen. But there really wasn't much opposition - a miner brought suit in federal court, claiming the president overstepped his bounds, but the Supreme Court ruled (unanimously) in favor of the Antiquities Act, a ruling it has stuck to in every challenge going forward. 

Following in Roosevelt's footsteps, 16 presidents (excluding Nixon, Reagan and George H. W. Bush) have reserved millions of acres as national monuments, some of which have later become national parks. Obama's action on the San Gabriel Mountains brings the number of national monuments named in his administration up to 13, for a total of 230 million acres. He says he's not done. (And - for the record - his predecessor, George W. Bush was no slouch in this department. W set aside 200 million acres). 

Stop for a moment, though, and think about those three words from the clause above - smallest area compatible. They're pretty incredible. That phrase is so subjective, so unlimited, so imprecise. And its presence in the Antiquities Act has given numerous presidents a tremendous amount of latitude in preserving some of the most iconic and beautiful scenery we have. The original framers may not have intended things to go this way but, as a nation, we should be grateful that phrase made the cut. Those lands are ours to visit and breath in and enjoy for generations to come - which is no small thing.

My Fellow Fellows: Urban Farming

I'm not alone in this program - there are four other smart and talented people who are also part of this year's fellowship class. I thought I'd introduce them through the projects they're working on - here's Introduction Number One.

Sena Christian is a freelance reporter from Sacramento, California and she's done a lot of writing on food and sustainability issues. She makes a mean mac 'n' cheese and, as a vegetarian, suffered mightily on our trip to New Orleans (veggie options were kind of hard to come by). And she's a total go-getter - she's already kicked off her project with a nice piece on urban farms.

These farms - cultivated within the city limits - can be found everywhere from vacant lots to school and church property to private property and other areas like park land or road sides. The crops are often sold right there at the farm and, in many cases, those farms are the only nearby source of fresh fruits and vegetables.

That can alleviate the problem of food deserts - neighborhoods where there is limited or no access to fresh, healthy food - which are most common in low-income areas. But urban farms are also beneficial to communities as a whole. As Sena points out in her piece, "They create jobs, alleviate hunger, reduce food waste, improve public health, create economic opportunities, and beautify neighborhoods."

As far as I can tell, there's not much to complain about here. And many cities - Portland, Seattle, Philadelphia, Minneapolis - have already adopted urban farm programs, or at least come up with policies to encourage them. 

But other cities haven't come as far and among them, I was surprised to learn, is Sacramento - a city that's been at the forefront of the local food movement. There, the city is just starting to consider a new urban agriculture ordinance. But they've limited who can sell produce - it has to come from farms in areas where agriculture is the primary use. That means vacant lots. Produce grown on church or school or private property would be subject to more rules and require farmers to jump through extra hoops. Which is kind of dumb. It makes something that seems like common sense - growing good food and making it available to the neighborhood in which it's grown - unnecessarily complicated.

Sacramento's Urban Agriculture Coalition is pushing back on these restrictions in advance of a City Council vote coming up later this year - and I'm hoping that my fellow fellow will cover the results.

In the meantime, you can follow Sena's writings, about sustainable farming and other topics, at her blog, Wailing Peacocks.  

Up In The Tundra

Yesterday, I stood on top of Niwot Ridge in the Indian Peaks Wilderness with a clear look at both Longs Peak and - 100 miles away - Pikes Peak. Here's a little taste of the world at 11,500 feet.

It's pretty high up there - I was gasping like a landed fish during parts of the hike. But, wow was it an awe-inspiring view. 

However, I wasn't just up there to see the sights - my fellow fellows and I were on our first fellowship field trip, to the University of Colorado's Mountain Research Station (MRS) about 25 miles west of Boulder. It's a field research site for studying mountain environments and ecosystems. Established in 1952, the MRS collects long-term climate data about mountain, sub-alpine and alpine zones, as well as maintains several meteorological stations (which have been up there since the start of the program).

There are bunch of big research projects going on in them thar hills, including how increasing temperatures in this area are affecting the Mountain Pine Beetle, what emissions (especially nitrogen) from nearby Denver are doing to the ecosystem and what climate change is doing to alpine lakes and the tundra.

The tundra - that's a word you might not have heard since sixth-grade science or maybe you only associate it with the Arctic - as in Arctic tundra. But it also applies to the area above the tree-line - in this part of the Rockies, that's at about 10,500 feet. At higher elevations higher, the growing season is short and typically pretty chilly, so plant life is hardy and small. There might be a few stunted and wind-twisted trees (it can get really windy up there), but it's mainly lichens, sedges (which resemble grasses) and low-growing shrubs.

It's in this area that scientists are conducting something called the Alpine Treeline Warming Experiment. Researchers have set up small test plots that are being deliberately warmed by infrared heaters with the goal of creating the conditions that, based on current average climate projections, they expect to see in the year 2100.

Here's what this outdoor laboratory looks like:

All those plots ringed by metal poles and covered in fine mesh are the areas where scientists are using the heaters, which are mounted in a circle around each set of scaffolding. The project began in 2008 and, as the researchers mention on their website (linked above), they're hoping to answer questions about how subalpine and alpine species will react to a warmer world.

These questions - and those being posed by the other scientists pursuing research in these mountains - won't be answered any time soon. Most of these projects are long term. As I mentioned, the University of Colorado has been monitoring carbon dioxide and other emissions and weather conditions up on the Niwot Ridge for over fifty years. That monitoring is no joke - someone comes up to collect samples every Tuesday, rain or shine or complete white-out blizzard. Sometimes they can use a snow machine to get around but a lot of times, they're walking or skiing. The amount of work and the physicality that goes into monitoring and synthesizing all that data isn't something I had thought much about and it gave me a whole new appreciation for what all these researchers are doing. 

And then there's the fact that the information they find is only a tiny piece of what will come from these projects. I'm guessing that none of the guys who started all this back in 1952 are making that trek to Niwot Ridge anymore, or even working on the data that's coming in. That means all their hard work has passed on to the next few generations of scientists, who will now add their own discoveries to this ever-growing mountain of data without entirely knowing what will eventually come of it all or what it all even means. 

That - like the view - is also pretty awe-inspiring.

Not All Gloom And Doom

Hundreds of thousands of people participated in the People's Climate March in New York City today, in an attempt to get both the US and international governments to take climate change seriously. The UN summit on climate change is set to begin on Tuesday - it's a hopeful sign although, given the outcomes of other climate summits (Kyoto Protocol, I'm looking at you), it doesn't actually mean anything will come of it. 

Despite government action or inaction, there are a number of scientists working on ways to slow or reverse the effects of climate change - big geo-engineering projects. Those may provide some of the best solutions, at least in the short-term, and at their core, they follow the same basic physics of climate change that were mentioned in my last post.

So you don't have to go to another post, here's a quick review of the physics.

Climate change is brought about by:

1) How much energy we get from the sun (i.e. sun cycles, our orbit around the sun)

2) How much of that energy is reflected back into space (by polar ice caps, glaciers, various aerosols)

3) The amount of greenhouse gases in earth's atmosphere (water vapor, carbon dioxide, etc.), which absorb the energy that is being reflected.

Those same bits of physics, says Jim White of INSTAAR, apply to potential solutions. Geo-engineering projects could deal with the problem of climate change by: 

1) Blocking sunlight (i.e. putting a giant sunshade into space)

2) Reflecting sunlight back into space (i.e. mirrors, gigantic chunks of styrofoam in the ocean)

3) Removing greenhouse gases from the atmosphere (artificial trees are one idea that's on offer)

The best option, in White's opinion, is getting greenhouse gases out of the atmosphere. Here's why: 

We've already got close to 400 parts per million of carbon dioxide (CO2) in the atmosphere. CO2 is one of those greenhouse gases that traps heat inside Earth's atmosphere and could, eventually, raise global temperatures by as much as 3° C. 

Now that temperature increase hasn't happened yet - currently, temperatures on Earth still reflect an earlier time, when there were fewer CO2 particles. There's something of a time delay here, part of which is due to the fact that Earth is a water planet (think of all our oceans) and water takes a long time to heat up. 

But, much like water set over a burner, eventually that water will get warmer and Earth's temperatures will go up. And that's even if we stopped emitting all greenhouse gases right this very minute (an unlikely and impractical scenario). CO2 remains in the atmosphere for hundreds of years. So even if we use our geo-engineering skills to block sunlight or reflect it back, that 400 parts per million stays at the same level - meaning will we still have the same amount of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere and we'll still get those warmer temperatures.

But our third option - removing greenhouse gases from the atmosphere - gets to the root of the problem. If we can vacuum up some of that CO2, we could potentially counteract some of the changes we've already seen and avoid a further increase in temperature.

It's obviously a lot more complicated than what I'm writing here - and there are plenty of financial and bureaucratic hurdles - but scientists do think its feasible and there are a number of projects in the works. 

The thing to remember about all of this, though, is that we're talking a pretty long time table, like more than 100 years. It's going to require commitments that extend through several generations and reach across international borders. 

People and nations will have to suspend their own immediate interests and play the long game. It can't be something that one nation does or that one generation begins - it's a serious, long-term investment and it's one that we, ourselves, won't see the outcome of. Today's marches - in New York and worldwide - and Tuesday's meetings seem to indicate that we might be able to move in that direction.