In the summer of 1972, I finally hiked six miles into Wheeler Geological Area. On the Rio Grande National Forest map it showed up as only a single section of designated land - 640 acres that had – well – geological significance.
I had noticed it on the map before and was intrigued being already obsessed with “weird rocks” since childhood. The few photographs that I had seen of the area paled in comparison when I arrived at the volcanic ash formations nestled right below the timberline late in that summer afternoon.
Massive volcanic activity starting 30 million years ago built what we now call the San Juan Mountains of southern Colorado. The eruptions continued for millions of years creating vast lava and ash flows that accumulated thousands of feet of layered volcanics.
The lavas and ashes were no sooner laid than water, wind and ice began to tear them down. The glaciers came and went and came again in several cycles. There, below the cap of lava flows at 12,000 feet above sea level, the buried ash and lava flows were exhumed, sculpted into fantastical shapes and configurations.
Such formations are peppered throughout the San Juan Mountains, but these at the head of one canyon approaching timberline are unusually spectacular- they look like the ruins of some mystical city when viewed from the meadows below.
I had never seen anything like it. To me it was also a prize that only those who really made the effort to get into this remote area could see and experience. It afforded an intimacy undiluted by masses of looky-loos that one runs into when visiting easy-to- get-to roadside attractions.
I fell in love.
When I returned from my first trip to Wheeler Geological Area, I was enthralled with this stupendous place. I wondered how such a jewel had not been sansationalized in some way.
Its uniqueness had been recognized for quite some time.
The first mention of the area was from a government survey crew in 1859 who named the place after General George Wheeler, the man in charge of the survey program- pretty sure he never saw it. Who knows what the Ute Indians thought of the place or what their name for it was - I would love to find out.
Its prowess as a spectacular site was cemented when it was declared a National Monument by President Teddy Roosevelt in 1903- pretty sure he never saw it either.
In the 1950's the monument was turned over to the National Forest Service because its remoteness was a real obstacle for the Park Service. In a way, it probably helped to veil the area somewhat- took it off the radar for a while.
But then the Forest Service started to eye the ancient spruce stands that surrounded the open parklands below the former monument. To sell the idea of pushing roads into the area for logging they decided to use access to Wheeler as the excuse.
Ironically, this plan was set to go into motion five years before my initial visit. The Forest Service had funding cuts that curtailed the plans. The plans were still on the books when I learned about them as I investigated the status of the land in question. I was infuriated about an agency that I thought should cherish such a pristine setting rather than promote its development! How could they do such a thing?
I have since ventured into Wheeler from just about every direction whether scaling over alpine passes or following exuberant creeks up into the highlands. On one occasion I came in on the only four- wheel drive access and arrived at the conclusion that it was quicker, shorter and easier on the kidneys walking in rather than enduring this treacherous route by vehicle.
After witnessing this wilderness gem in its remoteness, the proposal to engineer a full- fledged road that would accommodate logging trucks, and therefore passenger cars, was abhorrent to me. Many of us have seen heavily used picnic and camping areas where the shrubs are festooned with paper plates and pampers while chipmunks scamper off with pilfered chicken wings.
I did not want to see this happen to Wheeler.
By my objection to recreational "progress", I entered into the world of public- resources conflict. Unlike private lands, the National Forests are governed by rules and regulations which have been forged over the years and that have resulted in a mishmash of variable and sometimes conflicting goals for lands held in the public domain.
I soon found that there were many players with vested interests in resources such as lumber, minerals, forage and other "assets" that generated income. In direct opposition to this harvesting of nature in this manner is my viewpoint that some of the natural treasures in the Rocky Mountains are best left to their own designs with natural processes controlling them -in a word, wilderness.
The first opportunity that came up to protect Wheeler after my first trips was some legislation designed to protect areas in the West as National Wilderness Areas.
This inaugural bill was designed to protect thousands of acres in several Western states. The United States Congress had set up hearings to discuss the areas targeted to be included in this bill and one of them was Wheeler Geological Area and its surrounding alpine parks. Congress had a hearing scheduled in Creede - an old mining town and only a few miles away from Wheeler. I showed up for the hearing and soon had a rude awakening. I came to discover that some of my neighbor's philosophies on what to do with public lands were strikingly different from my own.
I found staunch and unyielding opposition to protecting any National Forest lands surrounding the mining town of Creede and even now I find it somewhat paradoxical that the men and women living in such close proximity to the natural wonders in the mountains of the West regard them in an entirely different manner than I do.
Of course, in those days there was still some mining activity and a healthy timber industry in southern Colorado. So it was not really a surprise that many were opposed to leaving things alone and open to whatever cash-in on resources that might pop up. Even likely wilderness supporters such as the sportsman; the hunters and fishermen, regarded any regulations controlling access as an affront to their way of life.
I think we share an appreciation for the beauty of natural environs, but when it comes to restricting activity or eliminating some of them altogether some people object vehemently. For locals I think they regard it as "their" land and even though they profess appreciation, that falls away when they are told they can't do something. Even if they would ultimately do nothing.
The anti-crowd adopted a singular slogan-
" For Every Acre of Wilderness- One Less Job for Creede !"
That day, as I witnessed person after person testify against any wilderness designation for any land, any where, any time, I realized that to protect Wheeler I would have a long, hard struggle ahead of me.
When the Endangered American Wilderness Act of 1976 was passed by Congress, Wheeler Geological Area was not a part of it. That legislative process did, however, initiate my advocacy for protecting wildlands on the planet. It was eminently evident that southern Colorado needed wilderness champions. I signed up immediately and continue to do so.
More to come.
