Photo courtesy of Ian Brickey
The last few weeks have been challenging for all of us as we work to stop the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic. One of the most visible responses to the pandemic has been physical distancing, often in the form of keeping six feet of distance between people and staying at home/avoiding public places, which is essential to stopping the spread of COVID-19. More than half of all residents of the United States have been ordered to stay at home. This can be challenging when your interests or work focuses on the outdoors. During this time, many of us at the Sierra Club are reflecting on how staying at home is making us reconsider what the outdoors mean to us.
Has physical distancing made you reconsider what the outdoors mean to you? We want to hear from you. Send us your stories through this online form.
Karlie D.: Not being able to ski and go rock climbing right now has led to a mix of grief, missing those activities, and also acknowledging my privilege -- I'm so grateful for the experiences I have had skiing and rock climbing. On the other hand, I've started to appreciate my nearby nature areas more than ever and the green space that is a 5- to 10-minute walk from my house. I'm also grateful to be moving to a house with a backyard in a few days -- I've lived in apartments for the last 12 years and haven't had a backyard in that amount of time. A backyard is another privilege that I know a lot of folks don't have -- and I'm grateful that my family (including our dog!) will have a backyard to enjoy while physical distancing.
Sierra Club staff member Karlie skiing last year. Photo courtesy of Karlie Drutz
Mel M.: I've been thinking a bunch about previous multiday river trips -- 11 days on the Zambezi River, 18- and 21-day trips through the Grand Canyon, and many trips in Idaho. Being in those spaces reminds me of how magnificent nature is. How rivers run regardless of what humans do. Rivers treat humans equitably, even the humans that cause them so much harm. Living with wind, sun, rain, and animals. I love getting in the flow of opening and shutting my eyes with the movement of the sun. The rhythm 16 people can find working together to set up camp, take down camp, pack rafts, navigate the river, and care for one another. I find myself thinking about the laughter shared by friends over a fire pan. The conversations on the spectrum from deep to nonsensical. Sharing a boat all day and barely speaking a word because the beauty around us is so captivating. The triumph over self-doubt as I run a rapid that scares me. But mostly, when I think of these trips, my heart feels joy and love. And excitement for when I'll be able to share another river with my river family.
Garrett D.: Physical distancing and time in quarantine has reinforced for me that the outdoors is a teacher for all of us. Nature is our original teacher and there is much more for us to learn. This health crisis is rooted in our relationship with the planet and it is imperative that we heed what the earth has to tell us.
Ian B.: My partner and I went on a trip to Westmoreland State Park in Virginia with some friends in February. It’s hard to believe that trip was barely a month ago, and it feels like so much has changed. It has meant, however, that I’ve had time to think about that trip and the others we’ve undertaken as a group. They’ve all been special, and I’ve realized it’s because of the sense of camaraderie that being outdoors engenders. When the closest you can get with friends and loved ones is through virtual hangouts, being able to look back on these moments of joy and friendship provides a great sense of comfort -- and motivation to plan the next journey.
Rob V.: After nearly three weeks of physical distancing, it has become even more apparent to me how much of a privilege it is to have access to outdoor spaces. Outdoor access is a fundamental human right that is connected to our mental and physical well-being. Unfortunately, in practice, access is a privilege in this country. I live in an apartment and do not have access to outdoor space at home like a backyard, balcony, or front porch. My ability to enjoy DC’s beautiful, albeit brief, spring weather is limited to walks with my dog. I am fortunate enough to have five public parks within several blocks of my place, but they have been dangerously crowded lately. It is also a privilege that I can afford an aboveground unit with plenty of windows, so it could be worse. I could live in a basement unit with no sunlight, or I could be homeless and not have the safety of any shelter during a global pandemic. We will get through this. When we come out the other side, I hope we remember how critical outdoor access is -- from national parks and wilderness areas to our homes and communities -- to our mind, body, and soul.