For months now, I’ve been thinking, writing and speaking about the importance of public lands in Wyoming. I’m not alone in that. Many of us have been alarmed by the rhetoric we hear from scheming politicians and their sycophants who, given the chance, would sell these lands to the highest bidder. We have come together to deny them this evil. Now, more than ever, we must continue to stand together. This is an election year in the Cowboy State, and the future of our public lands should be a prime consideration when we decide who represents us in government. But I am not a political scientist, or even a political columnist. I am, like most of you, a public lands user and an advocate for America’s public lands.
Opinion
A few months ago, I kicked off a series of columns by asking about 30 friends about the importance of public lands in their lives. To put it mildly, their responses were terrific. They spoke of public lands as a refuge for the “common man.” They described bonds they and their families formed with specific places that became part of their identity. For example:
“Public lands are where we go to have our best day ever — no matter who we are. I’ve had dozens of ‘Best Days Ever’ and all of them have been on public lands. When Theodore Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot were creating the national forests in the early 1900s, they said they were doing so for ‘the little man’ — not the timber barons or the industrial magnates, but for all Americans. I’m never going to be rich enough to pay for exotic hunting and fishing experiences. But I can have my BDE on public lands right in my own backyard.” — Connor
“Some of my most meaningful life lessons have come from walking familiar trails, sitting in the stillness of a meadow and pausing long enough to listen to the creek as it rushes over the rocks. Public lands have given me clarity, connection and deep sense of gratitude. They have shaped my sense of home, but not because they were ever mine, but because they were entrusted to all of us.” — Sarah
Wyoming people value freedom. Those who had come from someplace where public lands were few never failed to note that they had never experienced this level of freedom. Native Wyomingites frequently said that freedom to access public lands was why they stayed.
“Since the early days of utilizing what I consider our greatest national heritage, my life’s thread has continued to wind tightly around public lands. My lifetime hunting, fishing and camping on public lands and my work scraping out a meager subsistence as a trout consultant and river guide on public lands allow me to live, to really live, and not just exist. Without these vast, undeveloped swaths of natural lands, I would not be able to breathe.” — Charlie
Wyoming people see public lands as a legacy that we inherit from previous generations and pass on to subsequent generations. They viewed those places as their places and wanted most of all for their kids and grandkids to have those same experiences.
“I have bonded with my dad and my brother while hunting on public lands for many years. My dad’s recent sheep hunt involved several backcountry scouting and hunting trips. He passed on many mature rams. Everything came together on the last weekend, and he was able to cleanly harvest a ram in the culmination of the most emotionally inspiring and physically demanding hunting experience of our lives. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience — truly — in extremely rugged, beautiful and wild country.” — Jill
We find connection on public lands, not only with the land and wildlife, but with other people. The notion that these public lands represent a legacy that cuts across generations leads to the associated perception that they are a place of connection. That connection begins as a person’s connection to the land. But they also connect us, one person with another.
“I caught my first trout as a preteen in a lake high in the Cloud Peak Wilderness, shot my first turkey on a patch of forest in the Black Hills, and harvested my first antelope on a yawning stretch of Bureau of Land Management land southwest of Laramie. It’s where I learned to backpack, and where I now teach my daughter to do the same. Public lands remind me of the abundance we still have because of the sheer stubbornness of those who came before me. Public lands teach me — force me to see — how much beauty life and nature contain. And at the same time, they remind me of how much we have to lose.” — Christine
We see ourselves as stewards of public lands. One of the most unique aspects of the public lands in Wyoming is their history of inspiring a shared feeling of ownership, of “skin in the game” from a host of different users. Some respondents viewed this as a progressive process: The more they grew in their relationship to a specific area, the more they came to care about it and the more engaged they became in actively caring for it.
“I once viewed public lands primarily as places to hunt, fish, watch wildlife, or recreate. I didn’t feel any personal ownership or responsibility. That may be how many Americans interact with public land, at least at first. That changed once I became actively involved in maintaining habitat, improving access, protecting resources and making decisions that will echo decades into the future. It became personal. You begin to understand what it means to hold something in trust for others, not just for today’s users, but for generations you’ll never meet. You no longer just use the land; you care for it. Public lands taught me stewardship in a way nothing else could.” — Micah
Public lands provide the backdrop for developing a personal ethical framework that extends to every other facet of life. Many respondents mentioned life lessons learned on public lands that had application in their lives far beyond that setting: Seeing oneself as a part of a natural community rather than a master over it, benefiting entire communities rather than specific members of that community, self-control, humility and a personal code of conduct.
“I’ve spent a lot of time on public lands. Not much of that time has been what I’d call easy or fun. A lot of it was unpleasant. Life is like that sometimes. But spotting that elk, getting that fish to bite, seeing those stars made it all worthwhile. I look back and realize my time spent on public lands was hard, and that’s OK. I learned the importance of perseverance and determination — sticking with it to the end. Invaluable lessons I’ll carry with me the rest of my life.” — Dillon
This is an election year in the Cowboy State, and the future of our public lands is at stake. We have a shared responsibility. It is not enough to love public lands or to acknowledge this great legacy Wyoming people treasure. Now it’s time to act and to vote for people who will protect Wyoming’s public lands. The primary election is Tuesday, Aug. 18. Vote like the future of your public lands depends on it. Because it does.
