Heaven comes with blisters, poison ivy and mosquitoes

ON THE PACIFIC CREST TRAIL, CALIF. — This will make me sound grouchy and misanthropic, but I sometimes wonder if what makes America great isn’t so much its people as its trees and mountains.

In contrast to many advanced countries, we have a vast and spectacular publicly owned wilderness, mostly free and available to all.

The affluent have gated neighborhoods, private schools, backup generators and greater influence on elected officials. But our most awe-inspiring wild places have remained largely a public good to be shared by all, a bastion of equality.

My family and I have been backpacking on the Pacific Crest Trail through the Sierras north of Donner Pass, enjoying magnificent splendor that no billionaire is allowed to fence off. We all have equal access, at no charge.

Yet these public lands are at risk today. But first let me tell you about the Kristofs’ grand vacation. As we do each summer, we ran away from home to the mountains. We escaped the tether of email and cellphones.

We sleep under the stars rather than in a tent; if it rains we pull out a tarp to keep dry. Dawn wakes us up, we roll up our sleeping bags and plastic ground sheet, wolf down trail mix or granola bars and start down the path.

We stop for rest and meals wherever we fancy, chat as we walk, and when dusk comes we look for a flat spot and unroll our ground sheet and sleeping bags again.

Granted, we also moan about blisters. We whine a lot, but that builds family solidarity.

This is also a spiritual experience: It’s a chance to share a reverence for the ethereal scenery of America’s wild places.

The march of civilization has been about distancing ourselves from the raw power of nature. At home, we move the thermostat up or down by a degree, and we absorb the idea that we are lords of the universe. On the trail, we are either sweating or freezing, and it always feels as if the path is mainly uphill. Nature mocks us, usefully reminding us who’s boss. There are often charges to enter much-trafficked spots like Yellowstone or Yosemite, but the wilderness is mostly free to hikers.

This is our collective patrimony, a tribute to the wisdom of Theodore Roosevelt, Gifford Pinchot and other visionaries who preserved our wild places for the future. Thank God for them.

Because of the foresight of past generations, the federal government owns 1 million square miles, an area three times the size of California, Oregon and Washington combined.

More aggressively than past administrations, Trump is systematically handing over the United States’ public lands for private exploitation in ways that will scar the land forever.

A second challenge comes from our paralysis in the face of climate change, compounded by the Trump administration, and the risks this creates to our wilderness.

A warmer climate has led to droughts and to the 20-year spread of the mountain pine beetle, and a result is the death of vast swaths of Western forests.

When public lands are lost — or mined in ways that scar the landscape — something has been lost forever on our watch. A public good has been privatized, and our descendants have been robbed.

The wilderness nourishes our souls, if we let it.