Keep Boreas Wild

Originally from India, I am a graduate student at University of Rochester for the last three years. The three years in which, the Adirondacks has opened a new world for me by allowing me to experience Nature intimately, finding joy in muddy trails, hopping over rocks and bushes than guided tours, trade the comforts of a hotel for a tent in the open. And I feel that each and every part of this wonderful place needs to be protected to the best of our abilities.

My knowledge about Boreas Ponds is only theoretical and yet, I strongly believe that it should be classified as a complete wilderness zone. Much of the world is already tamed by humans or tailored to our needs or at the very least affected, adversely in most instances, by our actions. Let there be one more place, a tiny addition to an already shrinking list, which we can call as truly wild. The rewards, that come from a journey into the wild, to witness Nature in its prime, will far outweigh the benefits of a motorized access. I am sure Boreas Ponds will still be beautiful with roads, dams, motorboats and the ensuing crowd- but is that enough? It might come at a cost to the land, the wildlife, the flora and it will be too late before we can evaluate the damages.

One of the reasons frequently put forward for making Boreas Ponds accessible is that there has been continuous human activity for long periods in the past and hence it is not deemed fit to be a wilderness area. Apart from the fact that this wetland tract is contiguous to other protected wilderness areas, we should not underestimate the healing power of Nature, even without human assistance. Let us think of Chernobyl that witnessed the catastrophic nuclear accident, one of humanity’s worst blunders. Now that the place is deserted and left on its own, Nature has been reclaiming it over time. Human footprints at one point of time don’t necessitate the need to prolong it forever, especially if we can avoid it, if our senses and understanding mature over time and make us see everything in a different light.

The other reason put forth is that the wilderness supporters are elitists that do not take into considerations the constraints faced by elderly and/or disabled people. I would beg to differ as I feel that handicap is not only a physical aspect, it has a psychological and social element too, among others. For example, I would like to stand atop Mt. Everest one day but I know that I don’t have the mental courage (or the physical stamina) to undertake such a venture, and this is leaving aside the concerns of my family if I were to ever take such a step. But I would never want a highway that will take me to the highest point on the Earth as that will negate all that the Everest stands for. If Boreas is classified as wilderness, probably I will never carry a canoe all the way to the ponds even though I would love to paddle the waters with the beautiful reflections of the high peaks. But the complete protection of these wetlands will enable such pristine beauty to be preserved which in turn will let others take in the joy that I would want to experience. We all have our limitations and we cannot hold on to everything and it is not elitist to have an understanding of our time and place. It is said that ‘A thing of beauty is joy forever’. Let us give our best to preserve the wild beauty and it will reward us with happiness in the generations to come.  

To quote the ancient Indian proverb- ‘We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors, we borrow it from our children.’- do we want to be defaulters? Do we pay back partially? Or we return in full to the best of our capacity? Let us not test Nature’s resilience but help protect it. Let us choose perseverance over convenience, wisdom over technicality and above all, wilderness over familiarity and domestication. 

P.S. Some useful links for further reading-

News about APA’s various proposals- http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2016/10/apa-sets-forth-three-options-boreas-ponds.html

The group that made us aware of many things - http://adirondackwilderness.org/

An excellent article by Bill Ingersoll of Adirondacks Wilderness Advocates-   http://adirondackwilderness.org/case-wild-boreas/

Brendan Wiltse, spreading consciousness through photography among other ways https://www.facebook.com/brendan.wiltse.photography/?hc_ref=SEARCH&fref=nf

What we can do, sign the petition at- http://adirondackwilderness.org/take-action/?nocache=1

The Escape

I was alone, paragliding over the glaciers. Not ‘I’ exactly, and not alone either. The cold wind found many ways to get through the airtight suit. And the sun, being closer to me than it ever was, was not helping too. It was a strange, piercing feel of heat and chill. When you are invaded down to the veins and arteries, you don’t know where you ended and Nature began. There was no brooding, no luxury of time to be alone and worrying about the ordeal. With the skies above and the ground below, all I could do was to keep flying.

Flying? I turned around, looked at myself…I am here, glued to my garden chair and enjoying my evening tea. Funny that I thought about flying! Maybe a little bit of football on weekends with the village children to deceive myself that I am still strong but nothing this wild.

Now that the glider had considerable momentum, I relaxed to look at the grazing sheep. And the deodar trees seem so tiny. 

Wait. Why am I having all these visions? Glaciers are supposed to be vast expanses of white. Did the wind get the better of my vision while gliding? 

But I am not gliding; I am just out for a walk while the sun is setting over the valley. The sheep are being herded back to the villages and the evergreens are standing tall, as if in guard against the advancing darkness. This is my hamlet in an inconspicuous hill-station in India, nowhere close to Denali.

The last orange kiss of the day on the peak of Denali seems so dear. From above, I can clearly see the sunset hues criss-crossing the whites. But the cold is getting harsher, even the numbness has ceased to exist. I need to get past the peak and land on the other side where the National Geographic expedition team is waiting for me, with warm blankets and hot food. Probably wondering why on earth they agreed to the idea of me gliding over the Alaskan ranges. 

I pulled the blanket closer to me…but the cold doesn’t go away. A few more knots, then a descent of a few thousand feet and I will be safely back with my team, after a week of hiking and flying in the wilderness.

I twist and turn on the bed, rub my palms together. The cold is very stubborn. I need to steer the glider correctly during the descent. Am I dreaming?

Rubbing my eyes, I left the bed and took a seat near the telephone. It was a cold, new moon night; nothing to look outside of the window. Except for the stars that do not wax or wane. They are always here to look out for us, till they burn themselves out.

The warmth and light came with the ringing of the phone. ‘Daddy, I did it. I flew over Alaska.’

I didn’t understand whether it was the voice of an exhausted adventurer or a little girl. I cannot remember why I was feeling cold or having all those visions. Everything seems confusing with the Alzheimer’s. But I think I was living the dream. And now I can sleep.