Alaska's vast Denali National Park is divided into designated tracts of wilderness, some as big as whole counties. Snowfields and glaciers on the northern face of the Alaska Range mountains feed wide-braided rivers that cut valleys through tundra. The landscape is treeless and trail-less as far as you can see, and far beyond. There are no markers or signposts to designate where one tract ends and another begins. They appear only on maps for the purpose of allotting back-country hiking permits.
A portion of one of the tracts is even more special. It's off-limits. It's called Sable Pass, 60 or so square miles of lumpy tundra protected against human intrusion, except for scientists who have carved themselves an exemption. The purpose is to give wildlife one true sanctuary from people. Sable Pass is in my thoughts because the last of the nation's public lands are in political play these days, and too often we limit the discussion to how these lands should be "used." Backpackers versus Jeeps. Oil drilling versus caribou. Tree cutters versus tree huggers. Jobs versus recreation.
I would feel better about the future if our political debate about public lands accounted for the intangible, but vital, need for wilderness. Not just for nature's sake but for the sake of our souls. Can elk live on pastures with cows? Yes. Can caribou co-exist with oil rigs? They do. Grizzly bears can live in garbage dumps too.
But wilderness, true wilderness, does not exist with cow pastures and oil rigs and garbage dumps. Wilderness is not defined by how it can be used. Like Sable Pass, wilderness is about not using it at all. Except to preserve our diminishing sense of wonder.
8
Based on the tone of this passage, the author is most likely a member of which group?
A.
an organization for farmers
B.
a logging company
C.
a garbage collection agency
D.
a hiking and camping club