“...so one day my mother sat me down and explained that I couldn't become an explorer because everything in the world had already been discovered. I'd been born in the wrong century, and I felt cheated.” – Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children
I’ve always been an explorer, whether or not I use the term formally. One year ago, I sat in an environmental history class with a professor and former National Park Ranger who thoughtfully and enthusiastically shared her knowledge of, in part, the history of the National Park Service. Her enthusiasm matched my interest, and I am now interning at America’s first national monument.
Just a week ago, I arrived in Wyoming after a long, miserable trip from upstate New York. My roommate picked me up at a small county airport about an hour away from Devils Tower National Monument. I was exhausted and it was the middle of the night, but I still managed to gasp when I saw the shadow of the tower against the purple-y night sky. My roommate probably thought my excitement was a little ridiculous, but I couldn’t hide how cool I thought the view was.
I still think the tower at night is better than in the daytime. During the day, you see what you expect. It looks just like what you see in the pictures (actually, it’s much better, but the details are the same). But, when you visit the tower at night, you just see this mass of darkness against the best view of the Milky Way ever. It’s something you can’t photograph and expect to be the same.
The best part of it all is that you can see the tower at night. Not just the rangers. Not just the raccoons that freak me out. Not just me. Anyone can see it or any national park because it’s not just my tower or the state of Wyoming’s tower. It’s public land. I am still getting over the fact that we can all be here whenever we want because it is all ours.
--
I’ve only been here a week, so I kind of am still in vacation mode. Every morning while I’m opening the Visitor Center, I see the tourists sleepily emerge from their warm cars and gasp at the height of the tower. If I didn’t walk to work, I would be doing the exact same thing. I just can’t believe that something so amazing can actually exist. When I take the trail home from work, I can’t believe the red rocks and winding river are actually there. The only thing tethering me down to the real world is the massive amount of paperwork I’ve had to do this week.
Which leads me to the actual work part of this: there is a lot of it. I intern 8-hour days like a real adult and have lots of paperwork. I have to cook my own food (help, mom and dad!). I give (and plan) tower walks and short talks and evening programs just like the Rangers. I work in the Visitor Center. I rove the trails. But, still, it doesn’t feel like any job I’m used to. It may be because it’s the first week, or it may be because I’m in one of America’s amazing parks and monuments.
Whatever the case, I could never have imagined this is what I would be doing for the summer. I never want to stop exploring the boulder field and the red beds and the prairie grass fields. I never want to stop the alertness I have while hiking to watch for rattle snakes. I never want to stop telling people about the geology and history and culture of the Black Hills and the high plains. It may be the new job high, but I feel like I’m on a vacation, and I never want it to end.
-Alexa.
