Morton opens mountain to the masses
My column today:
Hugh Morton was my kind of environmentalist. He made it easy for more people to see and feel for themselves what's so important about preserving nature's most awesome handiwork.
That might be seen as a contradiction by those who think a wilderness should be unspoiled, practically untouched, remote, even inaccessible to all but a few.
What was one of the first things Morton did when he inherited magnificent Grandfather Mountain in 1952? He built a road to the top and let visitors drive to the summit for a dollar a car. ...
It's an irony. Morton owned a private park that he opened to the public. Over the years, millions of people have ascended to his mile-high visitors center and swinging bridge in the comfort of their automobiles. Meanwhile, only a fraction as many venture into the publicly owned wilderness areas that grace the North Carolina mountains. For people unable to hike, the back-country landscapes might as well be on the moon.
Of course, there's no true wilderness experience on Grandfather Mountain. Even the trails are carefully maintained and equipped with ladders and cables to help hikers safely climb and descend the steepest cliffs.
They're plenty rugged enough for me. Many times, I've hiked five or six hours along the high ridges and been very glad I began at the parking lot, elevation 5,300 feet, rather than at the base of the mountain a couple of thousand feet below. It was also nice to follow a well-marked trail and to know that, if I fell and broke my leg, help wouldn't be far away.
The human imprint hasn't detracted from nature's grandeur on Grandfather Mountain. Every turn in the trail affords a new and more spectacular view. Equally elevating is the wind that never seems to run out of breath but occasionally shows off its gusty strength, reminding interlopers what real power feels like. At those times when it roars, it becomes positively maniacal.
Without Morton's road, and open gate at the bottom of it, fewer would feel the majesty of mountain air in motion. Fewer still would set foot on Calloway Peak, at 5,964 feet the highest point in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Morton added other attractions: the swinging bridge, the animal habitats, the nature center, picnic areas. He created a family attraction, and at current rates charged a family of four close to $50 -- depending on the ages of the kids -- to get in.
Exploitation? No way. It has to cost a fortune to maintain the facilities he built there. Besides, Grandfather Mountain delivers a bargain, both for its natural wonders and its man-made additions.
Morton found the perfect blend. His enhancements served two purposes: access and education.
The only way most people will ever reach a mountaintop is by road. And even a lot of them won't pay the price unless they think they'll get more for their money than a pretty view. Morton and his mountain gave them an experience they could remember. For many, it might have been venturing out over the swinging bridge on a breezy day. For others, maybe seeing black bears for the first time outside a zoo. For some, perhaps picking wild blackberries from a bush right next to their roadside picnic table.
He also made it possible for them to learn something while they were there -- about air pollution, wildlife, preserving scenic vistas, the threat of overdevelopment. It would be hard for anyone to spend a day at Grandfather Mountain and not gain an appreciation for the unique qualities of a highland ecosystem and a desire to keep it unspoiled forever.
Maybe, to a purist, it was spoiled by the mere presence of so many people and the fact that they could get there so easily.
Purists wouldn't build a road to the mountaintop and keep captive animals or mark a trail for unskilled hikers. They'd leave it all as God made it.
We need places like that, even if few people ever see them.
But I'm thankful to Hugh Morton for letting me, and so many others, share his special place. Otherwise, I never would have come to love the mountains so well.
Comments (3)
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Doug! I wish you would do a story on Chinney Rock, same type by a private family.....
Posted on June 7, 2006 8:22 AM
Chimney Rock is another favorite place of mine, except the traffic through Lake Lure on a summer weekend can be frustrating.
Chimney Rock was the locale for many of the scenes in "Last of the Mohicans." More significantly, to me, it was the place where my wife and I went on our first date, way back in 1976.
Posted on June 7, 2006 8:43 AM
You are certainly right on the traffic Doug only in the summer it is horrific everyday both in Lake Lure and in Chimney Rock. Reminds me a little of Gatlinburg 50 years ago only not quite as big.
Unfortunately Chimney Rock may soon be the only recreational area left open to the public if the "leeches" who have taken over the area have their way. Already they have put into motion an attempt to close the lake to all but those who live on its shores or are members of one of the exclusive clubs.
What a shame to allow that to happen.
Posted on June 7, 2006 10:38 AM