When Everything Else Was Closed
When everything else was closed, conservation lands were open to help us get through.
Local community member, Willie Deford, explains why the National Conservation Areas have been so important to him this year.
When schools and offices closed last spring because of COVID-19, my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to keep our jobs and work from home. But suddenly we were still busy with work and also trying to guide our three children in their schooling from home. It put major strains on our patience and our internet router.
I knew people who lost their jobs and suddenly had nothing to do, and retired people who no longer had the social contacts they depended on. I knew people whose churches were closed and wanted a place to connect spiritually. Pretty much all of us here in the Grand Valley went to the same place for sanity, refuge, connection, and spirituality: our public lands. We could be relatively safe from catching the virus while still getting away from our four walls at home, the dull conference calls, glitchy video lessons, screens, screens, and more screens.
My wife and I developed a routine. We woke early and got as much work done as we could. We woke the kids and got them going on their school work, checking in with them as frequently as we could, trying to have work and school wrapped up by about 3 p.m. One of us would stay home and make dinner and the other would take the kids outside to swim, float, hike, or bike.
Never had our almost endless wealth of public lands become so important to us. My kids missed their friends terribly. We all missed conveniences and connections that were out of reach for a while. But we also grew closer than ever to each other; we developed deep life jacket and sandal tan lines; we found trails and river channels and swimming holes we had never seen before. My kids got to see me tumble over my handlebars on the Ribbon Trail, and they got to see sunrise from deep in upper No-Thoroughfare Canyon. We saw beavers and a river otter on the Colorado River, mountain lion tracks and scat at Miracle Rock, petroglyphs and ruins, caves, alcoves, bats, arches, dinosaur bones, and waterfalls, all within short drives or bike rides from our home in Grand Junction.
We weren’t alone. The bike and raft shops struggled to keep anything in inventory, and the trailheads were spilling over with cars. There was a real danger of lasting damage to our public lands from all the love they received. It made me glad I support Colorado Canyons Association, which provides educational and recreational programs for all sorts of people, promoting good stewardship and enjoyment of these amazing local conservation lands in McInnis Canyons, Gunnison Gorge, and Dominguez-Escalante National Conservation Areas. I had learned river safety and boat ramp etiquette from a CCA video series, and my son had gone on a raft trip with his eighth grade class on the Gunnison River with CCA river guides and learned how the canyons were formed (and how boating in a cold spring rain can still be a blast).
The truly great thing about CCA is how it reaches people, unlike my children, who might never get out in the wilderness, whose families don’t have a garage full of kayaks, standup paddleboards, and mountain bikes. CCA shows these kids the wonder and rowdy fun of a muddy river and a steep trail. And in times when there is nowhere else to go, they can go to public lands with greater appreciation and stewardship when otherwise they might be stuck at home.
Written by Willie DeFord, Former CCA Board Chair and Grand Junction local