Bear with me while I get to the PoiNT

As an engineer, if I found myself firefighting, something had gone wrong. I’d overlooked a potential failure mechanism, or hadn’t been sufficiently proactive (another corporate buzzword). An explanation would be needed, and plans would have to be made to avoid a repeat occurrence. In the worst case scenario, a tipping point: spending so much time fighting fires that there’s no time left to prevent them. One of the first projects I ever worked on was a do-over following this type of situation.

In September 2021, with the closure of California’s national forests, I wondered if wildland fires had reached a tipping point. Firefighting resources were stretched to the limit, yet more would undoubtedly be needed in 2022. Public land is chronically underfunded, so other projects would almost certainly be sacrificed. As more of the budget goes to fighting fires, less is available for prevention – a downward spiral.

Late in the summer of 2024, the US Forest Service (USFS) announced that it wouldn’t be hiring seasonal workers this year. The savings will apparently be spent on firefighting. Still, I thought, how much worse can it get? Enter, stage left, a mumbling, bumbling, chainsaw-brandishing billionaire. A person who, in recent years, seems increasingly unqualified to wield powertools, never mind political power.

Supply and demand

Sure, government operates inefficiently sometimes. Until relatively recently, an advance backcountry permit application for Grand Canyon National Park (GCNP) required itineraries to be submitted by mail or fax. A National Park Service (NPS) ranger would review them before approving the best available option. Time consuming, to say the least.

Today, you’ll use recreation.gov to apply for a GCNP permit, although “.gov” is slightly misleading. Instead of the application fee covering the cost of a ranger’s time, it goes to a publicly traded company. No problem, assuming I don’t have to pay significantly more for this newfound efficiency. Unfortunately, shareholders aren’t so easily satisfied. They’re going to want bigger profits next year and the year after. Also the year after that, despite a limited supply of campsites. Increasing demand might be used to justify higher booking fees, when financial growth is the real motivation.

The price of efficiency isn’t just monetary. When it’s easier to apply for overnight stays in the great outdoors, more people will take the opportunity. Improving accessibility is a good thing, but it shouldn’t come at the expense of those who can’t afford to gamble. Time for another example. Let’s say that, before applying for my annual Paid-Time-Off, I wait to see if any campsites in Glacier National Park (GNP) are available. What a bargain! I can get a week in the backcountry for less than $50. Maybe my boss approves the PTO, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe the snow melts in time, maybe it doesn’t. Either way, it’s an amount of money I’m willing to risk. Click, scroll, tap, tap, click, done. How efficient.

Suggestion box

Is it any wonder there’s “significant anecdotal evidence that no-shows are a widespread issue”? Several SOBOs I spoke to on the CDT in 2023 mentioned the empty campsites in GNP.

Anyone willing to forgo the entire cost of their reservation won’t be put off by cancellation fees. Increasing the cost of camping might partially solve the problem, but it targets the wrong people. Perhaps a fully-refundable deposit will do the trick, if it’s large enough.

• Locations with low supply or high demand would require a bigger deposit.
• You’d get a final reminder two weeks before the scheduled booking, with one week to cancel.
• You forfeit the deposit if you don’t cancel and don’t show up.
• That handwritten tag on the campsite post showing your booking info? There’s also a code you’ll enter online for your refund. If you’re picking up a backcountry permit, the ranger will give you the code.
• Over time, as you prove to be reliable, the size of your deposit is reduced.
• An afterthought. I’d also standardize the advance booking period for GCNP, GNP, etc. Let’s make it five months. The price of an international flight starts taking off about five months beforehand, so plans need to be finalized by then.

The story so far

March 15th 2023, when GNP’s advance reservations opened, I hadn’t decided which direction to hike the CDT. Less than a month later, it was obvious that Colorado’s snow would be a problem, and I decided to go SOBO. I’d last visited GNP more than a decade earlier, when getting a walk-up permit was all but guaranteed. In the interim, the park had become much, much busier, and no suitable campsites were available when I arrived.

Early March this year, I prepared a spreadsheet full of dates, mileages, campgrounds, and alternatives. The first stage of a GNP advance reservation now begins with a random date assignment during the early-access period. (The number of available slots isn’t mentioned, so I’m not sure it qualifies as a lottery.) From a thru-hiking perspective, there’s also a restrictive “Limit of 16 miles per day for advance reservations.”

I understand that the NPS doesn’t want people biting off more than they can chew, but GNP has more than enough constraints already. Thru-hikers who’d otherwise have shorter itineraries are speed-limited, and occupy coveted space in tiny campgrounds.

In the end, the date I was randomly assigned wasn’t too bad: 40% of the early-access period elapsed before I could make a reservation. The system allows you to check availability before your assigned date, and I found several options one day prior to mine. Less than 24 hours later it was my turn, and I booked a week’s worth of campsites. There’s room for three more people on the permit, so I’ll head over to the Facebook CDT group to see if there’s any interest.

Threading the needle.

My point, at last

This July, I’ll hike north through GNP, filling in my missing CDT miles from two years ago. At the border, I’ll head west on the Pacific Northwest Trail (PNT). My anticipation is already building, even though I’ve only just started planning. The PNT has a reputation for being a challenge to navigate in places, so my first task has been to familiarize myself with the route. Few things will cause you to regress faster than the sudden realization, in the middle of nowhere, that you aren’t where you thought and have no idea where you went wrong. I recommend it only if you want a vivid flashback to being four years old, lost in a supermarket. So, in addition to my phone, I’ll be taking my Garmin. It’ll be loaded with the relevant maps, tracks, and mile markers. (Regarding the data: I did put some thought into the process.)

I’d like to take a moment to thank the USFS and NPS staff in advance. In my experience, they’re friendly, knowledgeable and eager to help. In contrast, every immigration official I ever spoke to was, judging by their mood, having the worst day ever. I think it serves to highlight the exemplary attitude of USFS and NPS employees. My commiserations to all those who recently lost their jobs, and everyone who has a heavier workload as a result. My thanks also to the (literal) firefighters. I’m sure it’ll be a busy summer.

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