Imagine living in a society that did not value its parks, those areas set aside for protection and enjoyment of an area’s cultural, historical, and natural resources. It’s hard to imagine this country without Yellowstone, Sequoia, Everglades, and Great Smoky Mountain National Parks.
Popular parks of their stature are not likely to be phased out, but in California, Governor Schwarzenegger has injected an insidious proposal into California’s budget discussions that could affect not only us RVers but our children and grandchildren and everyone else that values heritage, diversity, and nature’s treasures.
The governor plans to close 48 of California’s lesser-used state parks, which would save about $9 million–about 0.1% of the state budget–according to data collected by Environment California. The fact that this is such a trivial amount, which could easily be resolved by a little belt-tightening and pork-purging, suggests an unstated motive beyond this small pittance.
Many of the parks proposed for closure have few facilities or staff-heavy programs and infrastructure and therefore collect lower fees than the more popular parks. That doesn’t mean that the parks are not used, enjoyed, and valued, but rather that they do not bring in the $$ that the bean counters would like to see.
Is this the type of decision we want from our leadership, where the value of something is determined solely by its ability to raise capital? Could it be that selling off these valuable (though not high income producing) California assets to private interests, reminiscent of Congressman Richard Pombo’s recent plan to sell selected National Parks, could be at the core of a more devious objective?
Whatever the real reasons may be, closing these parks is not the answer to whatever problem the governor faces. Maybe if I took him with me to where I spent the last three days, Montana de Oro State Park, one of those slated for closing, and stood with him on the windy bluff watching the waves crash on the rocky outcroppings below, breathing in the exhilarating salt air, and listening to the sea gulls raucous calling overhead as they soared on the invisible updrafts, he might change his mind. Maybe if he spotted pelagic cormorants darting in and out of their precarious nests scratched into the vertical face of the bluffs, or waded through fields of golden poppies and yellow mustard spreading like carpets across the bluff tops and giving the park its name Mountain of Gold, while a sea otter, a couple seals, and several pigeon guillemots fished in the rolling waves destined to break on the sandy beach of Spooner’s Cove, he may look at the parks with a different perspective.
Close the parks? Be serious. It is not acceptable. You can send an email to the governor at Environment California, and let him know how you feel about losing your parks for a few pieces of silver.