The great pine log doors are stained the traditional deep brown of the Park Service. They are brass-bound, lichen-covered and flanked by towering cottonwoods. Inscribed deeply into the milled wooden beams are the words:
US Park Service
High Uintas Primitive Area
Underneath on a plastic sign hammered to the beams are the words:
--DANGER--
US Park Service Wilderness Area
Unauthorized persons
moving within Park Boundaries are illegal
AND SUBJECT TO LIFE-THREATENING HAZARDS
No Trespassing. Convicted trespassers are subject to
a maximum fine of $1,000,000 and up to five years in prison.
Out of place is the hustle and bustle in front of the gate. There are two cinemobiles, half a dozen trucks sprouting satellite link-ups, an antique Humvee, and ten late model off-terrain vehicles. Overhead, keeping carefully outside the park boundary, are two quietized helicopters and the Goodyear blimp. Inside the boundary, drifting lazily on the breezes, are two hawks and two Park Service drones. The media folk have clustered an almost-respectful distance from the gate and are being held at bay by a dozen Park Service rangers.
The oddest vehicle is the one in the center of the cluster: A black limousine pulling a horse trailer. Out of the limousine and into the center of all this commotion strides Big Jim Steed. Jim is 180 cm tall and ramrod straight. His weight is hard to tell under all the clothing and supplies, but he moves dexterously without stumbling or a hint of lugging. As he approaches the gate, he doffs his helmet for the cameras. His hair is dark and neat, the nose straight, the smile wide, the teeth white and even.
As he checks his equipment, an announcer drones in front of him.
“This is Chet Bradley. Welcome to Wilderness 2053. This year we will be visiting the High Uintas Primitive Area. An unusual choice, one that hasn’t been visited since 2039.
“This ecopreserve, like all the others in the Park Service Primitive Department, is set aside to be untouched and undisturbed by people … ” Chet Bradley frowned slightly. “I mean … beings of Homo sapiens descent. It is large enough to be a self-sustaining ecosystem, over five hundred square miles in this case, spanning from Interstate 80 in Wyoming on the north side through the foothills outside Duchesne, Roosevelt, and Vernal in Utah on the south, and from Flaming Gorge on the east to Kamas on the west. The mandate of its caretakers is to keep it as pristine, untouched wilderness and they take this mandate seriously. To fill you in about this policy, we’ve invited Richard Moonan, director of the Park Service, to say a few words.”
Moonan, resplendent in his Park Service best, continues. “Thank you, Chet. To keep our American wilderness pristine, only one person may enter any of the 364 Primitive Departments each year. To be fair about it, that person is selected by national lottery. The person is selected a year in advance so they may undergo the intensive training it requires to enter a wilderness.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moonan. This year that being of Homo sapiens descent is Jim Steed, who is standing behind me. I will now see if we can take a moment of his time while he’s busy with his last-minute preparations to give us his feelings about being the one person … being … that will enter the Park Service Primitive areas this year.
“Jim, this certainly must be an exciting moment for you.”
“Yes, Chet, it certainly is. I’m honored that I can represent the American people and excited that I’ll be the one to actually see the wilderness in person this year.”
“Jim, how did you make your selection of the High Uintas?”
“Well, Chet, there were a couple reasons. The High Uintas offer some exciting terrain. They’re the only place in the US that has a whole plateau of terrain at about 4,000 meters, not just a few peaks. Second, it hasn’t been visited since 2039.”
“That’s fourteen years.”
“That’s right. And third, I was born near here and raised in Vernal, a town that’s situated on the south boundary … ” There’s scattered applause and cheers from the circle of on onlookers. “I used to sit on the backside of Red Mountain and stare up at the Uintas … dreaming of this day.”
“Well, congratulations, Jim. There we have it, folks. A dream come true. Let’s let Jim get on his way.”
Jim does get on his way—after four more interviews with other headliners of the media pool. The Olympics are big, but the Wilderness Event is all-American; the anchorbeings love the patriotic overtones.
In between interviews, Jim consults with Olson, a gray-haired, medium-height man with a slightly bent body, simple clothes, and a leathery face.
There’s another flurry as Celeste, Jim’s horse for this adventure, is taken from the trailer. “Celeste; how did you come up with that name for her, Jim?” asks one of the anchors.
“I meditated, and it came to me,” says Jim as he throws the high-tech saddle on her back and adds the other high-tech rigging. Last of which is her “wilderness skirt”—a device designed to simultaneously wipe out her tracks and catch her droppings. The horse’s natural motion will spread the droppings over the skirt and air-dry them so they can be used for the evening’s fuel.
Jim dons his helmet and leads Celeste to the heavy door. The Park Service Honorary Gate Keeper approaches. Applause rings out for the gray-haired, slightly sagging Arnold Schwarzenegger, assisted by Al Gore—who looks like he keeps a Dorian Gray portrait in his attic, being nearly unchanged since his election in 2016. Arnold officially checks Jim’s credentials while the press watches on.
“Good luck, Jim.” Arnold hands over the three “beepers”.
“I’ll be back,” replies Jim with a wink.
The beepers are transponders that authorize Jim to be inside the wilderness boundaries. There are three just to be sure that one will always be working. Arnold checks to make sure Jim’s own “wilderness skirt” will adequately brush out tracks in soft earth, then he opens the massive door and Jim strides through beside Celeste. The door slams shut with a deep boom and Jim is alone in the wilderness.