Some ponder whether, in our modern, calculated era, America might reconsider its land allocation approach. Instead of preserving pristine spaces, would we sell them to the highest bidder, perhaps granting naming rights to mountains and rivers? Imagine Mount Musk, where we stand outside the fence, reminiscing about glaciers on a billionaire’s private playground.
Perhaps such a system would be more efficient. Private landowners might even prove more effective at controlling forest fires than the government. Yet, what a profound loss for the nation that would represent.
On our recent trip, Sheryl and I discovered a perfect spot beneath towering fir trees, alongside a gentle brook, with the mountain and its glaciers dominating the skyline. During the night, a large animal, maybe even Bigfoot, startled us awake as it crashed through the undergrowth, adding an element of irreplaceable wilderness atmosphere.
This was a place no billionaire could purchase. It was ours for that night, perhaps another hiker’s the following night, and maybe Bigfoot’s entirely on the third. In our shared wilderness, there are no tiered pricing structures like Disneyland; we stand as equals before the magnificence of nature.
In certain regions of America, private beaches serve as playgrounds for the wealthy. However, Oregon’s beaches are all public. Earlier this summer, my family backpacked the Oregon Coast Trail, a path winding from Washington to California along secluded beaches. Once, misjudging the tides, we had to sprint around a small cape to escape the incoming waves. Those magnificent beaches are mine, are yours, are ours.
