June 1995: Eco-Challenge Aftermath

by Jim Stiles

     Eco-Challenge has come and gone, and last month Arches National Park opened its new paved road to the Delicate Arch Viewpoint. What do these two events have in common? It has to do with getting from Point A to Point B.

     I had the good sense to leave town during the Eco-Circus, and in fact was thousands of miles away when the Big Race went down. And based on comments its organizer made to Tom Wharton in a Salt Lake Tribune story last week, I won't have to worry about that silly event again until the year 1,001,995 AD. Mark Burnett told Wharton that "uncompromising environmentalists cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars and most of our energy," and said he wouldn't come back in a million years. Further, Burnett claimed that his race avoided any environmental degradation, and even concluded that they "left the desert in better shape than they found it."

     I thought that was pretty amazing since any intrusion into the desert, no matter how minuscule, degrades it in some small way. But Burnett believed you can run a few hundred gonzo athletes through 300 miles of canyon country and actually improve conditions out there in the wilds. (see photos elsewhere in this issue of the Big Race.) 

     For me, the concerns about Eco-Challenge went beyond the direct impacts the race had on the land. It was the idea that there are some uses of this desert that are simply inappropriate and should not even be considered. How stupid does an idea have to be before the BLM says 'no?' Does it ever say no? In the Trib  article, Don Banks, head of public affairs for the state BLM office was still trying to put a positive spin on the race. He told Wharton, "If we can get a leave-no-trace message to fans of Beavis and Butthead, that's a pretty good thing."

     Huh? The message that the Beavis & Butthead audience will hear and see in living color is simply: how fast can we get from Point A to Point B? Regardless of the cost, regardless of the obstacles...full speed ahead. There's no environmental message there. We should be telling the MTV audience that speed is the great crippler when it comes to loving and understanding this land. It's not a matter of how quickly they can get from A to B, but rather, how slowly. We could all spend a lifetime wandering the 300 mile Eco-Challenge race course and still never come close to seeing all the beauty and the mystery that awaits us there.

     It's a moot point now, of course, at least as far as this event is concerned. Burnett plans to take his Eco Folly to the far reaches of British Columbia next year, where he hopes there won't be so many annoying environmentalists to point out the destruction and chaos his race creates. Don't be so sure, Mark...we're everywhere.

     And to all of you who wrote letters, boycotted sponsors, and generally made nuisances of yourselves to the point where Mr. Burnett and Company don't want to come back here for a million years...thanks.

     In late April, the Park Service completed its $4 million dollar upgrade of the Delicate Arch Viewpoint road. Now any vehicle, even Greyhound tour buses and 47 foot motorhomes, can make the mile and a half drive to the viewpoint and see the crown jewel of Arches National Park. To their credit, the park has closed and restored part of the old road; the new viewpoint parking lot is now out of sight of the arch itself. In fact they have done a remarkable job of obliterating any sign of the old road as it crept around a sandstone reef and climbed a steep hill to the old parking lot.

     But then again, they've done a hell of a job of obliterating any sign of the old road (see 'Then & Now' on pages 20 and 21). The old gravel road really wasn't much of a driving challenge. Mostly it was dusty and a prime washboard-have my teeth rattled loose yet? kind of experience. Any two-wheel drive Buick could make the trip. But, as I mentioned earlier on this page, sometimes it rains in the park. When it did, tourists often found themselves on the wrong side of Salt Wash, and spent a few hours waiting for the waters to subside. Those 'victimized' by the whims of Nature and the park's (then) reluctance to build a bridge over these usually fordable dry washes rarely caused a complaint. We'd wade across with sandwiches, pop and a few encouraging words for the stranded, and conducted impromptu interpretive talks (the best kind) on flash floods and the role rain plays in the desert.    

     Everybody had a good time, even if it upset the schedule a bit and kept park visitors from getting to their daily destinations as quickly as they'd meticulously planned. And I would bet that when those water stranded tourists got home, the first story they told their friends was the night they were trapped by a flash flood at Arches National Park. Properly embellished, I would hope, to make the story a great adventure.

     Today, considering all the improvements, it was a great adventure.