When I go into nature, I do so intending to disassociate with humankind for at least a short period of time. However, I have found that to find and enjoy nature in its purest, untouched form is nearly impossible; every hike, float or bike ride into nature, no matter how far I go, I seem to not be able to escape the evidence of humanity.
While I admit, there can be a comfort in seeing a piece of your fellow species everywhere you go, keeping you from ever truly being alone, I find myself often yearning for a more authentic experience of nature. An experience of nature unmarred by the spotting of trash, the sounds of machinery, or the evidence of human architecture.
Recently, I went on a sunrise hike for the first time. It was on Pinnacle Mountain with a friend who had invited me last minute. We met at 3:30 a.m., a time of day when you will see some individuals still awake from late-night antics and others just waking up for their work day.
While some would consider waking up at 3:30 a.m. to go on a hike a strange activity, arriving at the trailhead initiated a theme of thought between my friend and me that would last the entirety of our journey: What would this activity look like if humans had not advanced past more primitive activities? Would trips such as this be commonplace?
In our ascent up the mountain, we toyed with the idea of what this journey would look like if we were early people. To them, waking up with the sun and immediately being in nature would likely not seem such a strange behavior. In a way, my friend and I mourned the loss of this perspective.
The hike up the mountain took about one hour of scrambling in the dark and by the time we made it to the top it was 5:30 a.m. and the sky was just starting to lighten. Sweaty from the journey up the mountain, the 60-degree air chilled our backs and whipped our hair.
As we sat, waiting for the sun to rise to our left, we heard the cries of coyotes at the bottom of the mountain, yipping and hollering at the departing moon. Hearing this, we again thought of how this experience would be altered if we were humans experiencing it about 532 years ago.
If it was 532 years ago, would we be hearing those coyotes and thinking, “Man, I’m glad I’m downwind of that pack so they can’t hunt me.”?
Would we be focusing on more evolutionary anxieties rather than climbing a mountain to escape man-made anxieties over jobs, politics or money?
What plants and animals would we be seeing on our journey given that the effects of human agriculture hadn’t depleted the biodiversity of the area? Further, what would Pinnacle Mountain itself look like if it had been untouched by human development and quarrying? What would we see if we looked down the peak? We wouldn’t see powerlines, planes, fields, distant city lights or the unnaturally straight lines of man-made dams.
In my experience of being in natural spaces, I tend to enjoy them more when the traces of humanity are minimal. I love being on a float trip where I can’t hear the distant car or helicopter. I love walking on a trail where I can’t find small pieces of trash. I love sitting on the top of a mountain where I can’t see the straight lines of power lines, dams and fields cutting through the land in the most unnatural way.
Human interventions mess up attempts to experience natural preservation. It disturbs the peace and the benefit of going into nature and feeling as though you are having a lonesome experience and it disturbs the feeling of feeling as though you have discovered the place yourself.