I grew up living near Yellowstone Park with respect for National Park Service employees and what they do to protect our sacred lands. My father was a seasonal worker at the park, and that is what brought him to Montana, where I was born. I have a deep appreciation for the park, its geology, wildlife, and natural wonders. But I often imagine how much better the park would be without cars.
John Muir’s essay “The Yellowstone National Park” is my favorite written account detailing the magic of the park. I strongly agree with John Muir’s words about how lucky we are this land was set aside: “Fortunately, almost as soon as it was discovered it was dedicated and set apart for the benefit of the people, a piece of legislation that shines benignly amid the common dust-and-ashes history of the public domain…” We can also thank Ferdinand Hayden who surveyed the park, Thomas Moran who painted the park, and William Henry Jackson’s photography who helped demonstrate the uniqueness of the geography and lobbied Congress to establish it as a National Park.
Despite how special the park is, when I was young, I never really cared for going to Yellowstone. The memories of Yellowstone were mostly of lines of cars and trying to find a parking spot. I preferred the wilderness areas (that are greatly threatened by the current administration) where I could get out away from the crowds and any motorized vehicles. One of the benefits of designated wilderness areas protected by the Wilderness Act of 1964, is that no mechanized vehicles are allowed. No roads, no cars, no RVs…not even bicycles. You have to get out and experience wilderness areas on foot, or where allowed, on horseback.
What if we do the same for national parks? When I was in high school, I read Edward Abby’s “Desert Solitaire.” It had a profound impact on how I view our public lands and their protection. Abby’s proposal to eliminate private vehicles from parks always stuck in my mind. Whenever I go to national parks, I think about if his proposal to eliminate motorized vehicles from national parks were implemented.
It is a great time for us to familiarize ourselves with, and consider, his proposals and vision for our national parks.
Abby is vehemently against industrial tourism in our national parks. He argues the main unfortunate intrusion into the wildness of our national parks is the personal vehicle. In the opening of his case for removing personal vehicles from parks, he encourages the Park Service and anyone concerned with preserving the national parks to “begin a campaign of resistance” against the personal automotive in national parks. “The automotive has almost succeeded in strangling our cities; we need not let it also destroy our national parks.”
Our priority should be to protect legislation to preserve the National Park Service, Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management, and all public lands that are currently under threat. However, with the stir-up in how resources are allocated to our national parks, now is also a good time to take a look at Abby’s three proposals, all related to removing personal vehicles from our national parks: No more cars in national parks, no more new roads in national parks, and putting park employees to work making sure the public has access to the park without the need for them to drive in their own vehicle.
Step One: No more cars in national parks.
Abby proposes removing all private vehicles from national parks – yes, this also means your camper van or RV. In Abby’s words:
“Let the people walk. Or ride horses, bicycles, mules, wild pigs anything – but keep the automobiles and the motorcycles and all their motorized relatives out. We have agreed not to drive our automobiles into cathedrals, concert halls, art museums, legislative assemblies, private bedrooms and the other sanctums of our culture; we should treat our national parks with the same deference, for they, too, are holy places. An increasingly pagan and hedonistic people (thank God!), we are learning finally that the forests and mountains and desert canyons are holier than our churches. Therefore let us behave accordingly.
Consider a concrete example and what could be done with it: Yosemite Valley in Yosemite National Park. At present a dusty milling confusion of motor vehicles and ponderous camping machinery, it could be returned to relative beauty and order by the simple expedient of requiring all visitors, at the park entrance, to lock up their automobiles and continue their tour on the seats of good workable bicycles supplied free of charge by the United States Government.”
This is similar to how John Muir and the visitors before the personal automobile visited the park. At the time John Muir wrote his essay, tourists would end their motorized journey three miles north of the grand gated entrance of Yellowstone Park in the then-existent town of Cinnabar. They would disembark from the train and then get on horse-drawn carriages to take them into the park.
What could this look like now? Visitors would ditch their vehicles in Livingston, West Yellowstone, Cody, and Jackson before getting on a shuttle to the entrances of the park. At the entrances, they could rent bicycles to ride into the park or depart on foot. A park service vendor could rent bicycles, and even bicycles with trailers to carry gear for those who want to get to a trailhead and backpack into the wilderness. In the winter, they rent cross-country skis with pull sleds – no motorized snowmobiles.
There’s a special time every spring and fall when Abby’s vision is essentially alive in Yellowstone. Most roads are closed in the winter, but before the roads open to vehicles and when the roads are clear of snow, bicycles are permitted on roads closed to regular vehicles in Yellowstone Park. Cyclists plan to journey from one entrance to another, such as from Gardiner to West Yellowstone, packing what they need for the journey. Talk to anyone who has done that and ask them if they prefer the park by vehicle or bicycle.
There would still be motorized tour shuttles operated by the park service or available to those who are disabled or have motor issues. You must show evidence of a medical condition, and seniors over 65 can also access the shuttles.
And specific to Yellowstone, those who need to travel to Cooke City, which is only accessible through Yellowstone Park in the winter months, would need a permit to drive through the park to get there.
Step Two: No more new roads in national parks.
Abby notes that if we are not bringing in private vehicles, there will not be a need for new roads or development. He also makes a great point about the amount of space motorized vehicles take up in national parks, including boats and campers.
“After banning private automobiles the second step should be easy. Where paved roads are already in existence they will be reserved for the bicycles and essential in-park services, such as shuttle buses, the trucking of camping gear and concessioners’ supplies. Where dirt roads already exist they too will be reserved for nonmotorized traffic. Plans for new roads can be discarded and in their place a program of trail-building begun, badly needed in some of the parks and in many of the national monuments.
In mountainous areas it may be desirable to build emergency shelters along the trails and bike roads; in desert regions a water supply might have to be provided at certain points- wells drilled and handpumps installed if feasible.
Once people are liberated from the confines of automobiles there will be a greatly increased interest in hiking, exploring, and back-country packtrips. Fortunately the parks, by the mere elimination of motor traffic, will come to seem far bigger than they are now there will be more room for more persons, an astonishing expansion of space. This follows from the interesting fact that a motorized vehicle, when not at rest, requiresa volume of space far out of proportion to its size. To illustrate: imagine a lake approximately ten miles long and on the average one mile wide. A single motorboat could easily circumnavigate the lake in an hour; ten motorboats would begin to crowd it; twenty or thirty, all in operation, would dominate the lake to the exclusion of any other form of activity; and fifty would create the hazards, confusion, and turmoil that make pleasure impossible. Suppose we banned motorboats and allowed only canoes and rowboats; we would see at once that the lake seemed ten or perhaps a hundred times bigger. The same thing holds true, to an even greater degree, for the automobile. Distance and space are functions of speed and time. Without expending a single dollar from the United States Treasury we could, if we wanted to, multiply the area of our national parks tenfold or a hundredfold simply by banning the private automobile. The next generation, all 250 million of them, would be grateful to us.”
Think of all the space that would be saved from the lifeless asphalt parking lots without private vehicles in the park. I feel deep sadness when I go to Old Faithful and see the huge asphalt parking lot next to it. Look up Old Faithful on Google Maps with the satellite image layer. It’s a giant parking lot.
Perhaps some of that asphalt real estate could be restored, but this would take time.
Step Three: Put the park rangers to work.
First, we need to make sure our park employees keep their employment! Abby has a personal grudge against park employees and uses some colorful language that you can read for yourself in his book; However, he makes a good case that there would be an increase in the need for park employees, but the need is out of the offices and patrol vehicles to be available for field work.
“…kick them out of those overheated air-conditioned offices, yank them out of those overstuffed patrol cars, and drive them out on the trails where they should be, leading the dudes over hill and dale, safely into and back out of the wilderness. […]They will be needed on the trail. Once we outlaw the motors and stop the road-building and force the multitudes back on their feet, the people will need leaders. A venturesome minority will always be eager to set off on their own, and no obstacles should be placed in their path; let them take risks, for Godsake, let them get lost, sunburnt, stranded, drowned, eaten by bears, buried alive under avalanches that is the right and privilege of any free American. But the rest, the majority, most of them new to the out-of-doors, will need and welcome assistance, instruction and guidance. Many will not know how to saddle a horse, read a topographical map, follow a trail over slickrock, memorize landmarks, build a fire in rain, treat snakebite, rappel down a cliff, glissade down a glacier, read a compass, find water under sand, load a burro, splint a broken bone, bury a body, patch a rubber boat, portage a waterfall, survive a blizzard, avoid lightning, cook a porcupine, comfort a girl during a thunderstorm, predict the weather, dodge falling rock, climb out of a box canyon, or pour piss out of a boot. Park rangers know these things, or should know them, or used to know them and can relearn; they will be needed. In addition to this sort of practical guide service the ranger will also be a bit of a naturalist, able to edify the party in his charge with the natural and human history of the area, in detail and in broad outline.”
Abby asks, do we dare experiment? Perhaps now is the time. Abby says, “I, for one, suspect that millions of our citizens, especially the young, are yearning for adventure, difficulty, challenge—they will respond with enthusiasm.”
Right now, there is a lot of enthusiasm for protecting our cherished public lands. Perhaps now is the right time to seriously consider Abby’s proposals.
Is removing private cars from national parks feasible?
How can all of this be done? Abby notes that this can all be done and meet the mission of the National Park Service of preserving unimpaired natural and cultural resources of the parks “for the benefit and enjoyment of the people,” but it will require a revolution and serious advocacy to make it happen.
“By following the steps I have proposed, plus reducing the expenses of wilderness recreation to the minimal level. Guide service by rangers should, of course, be free to the public.
Money saved by not constructing more paved highways into the parks should be sufficient to finance the cost of bicycles and horses for the entire park system. Elimination of automobile traffic would allow the Park Service to save more millions now spent on road maintenance, police work and paper work. Whatever the cost, however financed, the benefits for park visitors in health and happiness virtues unknown to the statisticians—would be immeasurable.
Excluding the automobile from the heart of the great cities has been seriously advocated by thoughtful observers of our urban problems. It seems to me an equally proper solution to the problems besetting our national parks. Of course it would be a serious blow to Industrial Tourism and would be bitterly resisted by those who profit from that industry. Exclusion of automobiles would also require a revolution in the thinking of Park Service officialdom and in the assumptions of most American tourists. But such a revolution, like it or not, is precisely what is needed. The only foreseeable alternative, given the current trend of things, is the gradual destruction of our national park system.”
With all the recent stir-ups, let us consider Edward Abby’s proposals. My proposal is that we offer our national parks the same protections we offer wilderness areas, which receive the highest level of protection, but adopt Abby’s proposals to make the land accessible to everyone. This would mean restricting private vehicles but offering public resources to allow people to experience the park without a motor, such as with bicycles, and offering electric shuttles for those who truly need them to experience the park.
However, first and foremost, let us make sure we are loud about keeping these public lands in public hands. If we lose the regulations protecting our public lands and they are for private sale, then none of this matters.
Cover photo: Yellowstone Falls. Photograph by Owen, June 2022