Our Abstract Wild by Mike Howe (Gustavus Adolphus College)
*While Mike wrote this blog weeks ago, a busy schedule of early morning bird surveys, academics, and the occasional Patagonian cultural experience (all subjects of future blogs) has kept us from posting Mike’s work until now. More to come soon from a busy and happy group of students in Chile!
Due to the nature of our program, our blogging capabilities are quite sporadic and sometimes we can write a new blog within a few days of each other, while at other times we cannot find the time for a few weeks. Since this post is the former, there is not a wealth of new events to discuss, so I will expound upon the academic side of our program, the “real” reason we are in Patagonia. After introductions to classes over the course of a few days during our stay in Monreal, we were all quite anxious to begin learning about more engaging and interesting material. One of the first topics we covered was Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK), which is knowledge of the land that is passed down through generations. Conservationists can thus work in close collaboration with indigenous peoples to develop a plan that not only can be more effective, but also can be cognizant of historical land use practices so that conservation plans can help protect land important to a people. The readings and lectures we had on TEK prompted some interesting discussions about conservation, the importance of preserving indigenous cultures, and how TEK can be a powerful tool to complement conservation.
Additionally, we have taken a few opportunities to do natural history readings. These readings so far have included “The Round River” by Aldo Leopold, “The Abstract Wild” by Jack Turner, and a paper about education by David Orr. Rather than individually reading these articles, we sit in a circle and pass the reading around, reading it aloud. This gives us the ability to reflect on the readings and better enjoy them. Our discussions after the reading have been quite enjoyable and bring up interesting philosophical questions that we can mull over. I find myself thinking about the last two readings, especially. The paper by Jack Turner was provocative, as he argued that the concept of the wild is merely a social construct, and that few “wild” places exist today. We are lucky to be in perhaps one of the few remaining wild places. While there are signs of past human land use, and we sometimes hike on trails, we frequently see a wild place with wildlife interacting with each other in a way that is reminiscent of something that would be on National Geographic. Even in our camp, we can see guanacos furiously chasing each other and males fighting to gain dominance. We have a rare opportunity to observe a landscape swiftly on its way to recovery after years of grazing. This land is a wild place.
The opportunity to see a landscape with massive enduring features (mountain slopes, river valleys, cliffs, etc.) is a rare privilege. Even if climate change plays a role in great local extinctions, these enduring features will persist and provide a framework for succession to occur and new organisms to dominate the landscape. For me, the importance to preserve land outweighs the importance of preserving individual species. While the guanaco, flamingo, or the puma may or may not become extinct one day, the slopes leading up to Tamango, the Rio Chacabuco, and the wide expanse in between will continue to support many organisms. Landscape scale conservation, the protection of huge tracts of land, seems to be the future of conservation. Highly fragmented habitats, such as the ones I am familiar with in Minnesota, have less potential for conservation especially when populations suffer from common small populations effects (inbreeding depression, allele fixing, etc.) Working on a landscape scale conservation project is a completely different and unique experience. It not only provides hope for future conservation projects, but also yields a learning experience and framework for future endeavors.
After a rather heavy blog post, I have to write about some of the fun things we have done the past few days. A few days ago, we hiked down to the Chacabuco River, which entailed a nearly two-hour adventure bush whacking across the Patagonian steppe. Upon arriving at the river, a few of us (Neely, Becky, & I) waded into the cold river. Like many other rivers down here, the water was a pale bluish green color, a sign that the stream is laden with sediment. During our hike back to Los West Winds, we could see the peaks of at least eight mountains rising from the steppe. Needless to say, the view was amazing. After a day of rest, (and waiting for Iris to return from Coyhaique) we again traveled down to the river, but this time the weather was more amenable to swimming. We swam in the swift, pale river, allowing the current to sweep us off our feet for a stretch. It was great to float down the river! After getting to swim, we sat on the rocky bank of the river and did another natural history reading, this time “The Naturalist”. While I personally did not enjoy the reading as much as some of the others, it was met with a positive reception from most of the group. When we returned to camp, we were visited for dinner by Bryan Lobel, who is an urban planner doing pro bono work for Conversacion Patagonica (CP). He described some of the future plans CP has for the park as well as gave us some advice for our upcoming hike on the Aviles Trail, which we will be doing sometime in late-February. Hopefully, this weekend we will get to travel to Cohraine because apparently there is some sort of festival, but with Clifford (our big red truck) in the mechanic’s yard, we might have to postpone our trip. If the trip doesn’t work out, a weekend full of birding and surveys doesn’t sound too bad! Either way, we will surely have another new, rewarding, experience.
Well, that is it for this blog post! Peace from the Patagonian steppe and Los West Winds!