Peaks, trails not a racecourse

“Shortcutting causes erosion.”

Even a casual hiker who has set foot in the canyons of Grand Teton National Park is familiar with this message, posted on signs reminding visitors to stay on designated trails.

The National Park Service acted prudently when it cited this axiom in launching an investigation into an attempt by a Driggs, Idaho, runner to set a new record for the fastest ascent and descent of the Grand Teton. An inquiry by the Park Service led the arbiter of such feats of speed in the mountains, Fastest Known Time, to reject the attempt by Michelino Sunseri, who ran up and down the Grand in an astounding 2 hours, 50 minutes and 50 seconds — but cut a major switchback on the trail in doing so. Sunseri and his associates, who documented the feat after being denied a filming permit, could wind up being cited by park rangers for violating federal regulations.

Shortcutting literally causes erosion. But it also causes erosion of etiquette, safety and the national parks ideal.

On trails, those traveling downhill are supposed to yield to uphill travelers, a common courtesy in acknowledging the difficulty but also a measure of safety, given varying rates of speed on sometimes narrow or exposed passageways. Picture a visitor who has waited years to climb the Grand Teton, summoning all of the concentration and courage he or she can muster while navigating the crevices of the Owen Chimney at higher than 13,000 feet, when an approaching runner says, “Excuse me,” and hurriedly scrambles past.

National parks exist for the enjoyment of all, not just ultrarunners and other competitive athletes who would use the peaks and trails of our public lands as a racecourse or gym. Given the staggering increase in use of Teton park trails, the proliferation of social media “influencers” and lucrative sponsorship deals pro athletes can command from outdoor companies — trends accelerating in recent years — the Park Service should discourage attempts at achieving “fastest known times” on the lands it manages, if not ban the practice outright. Publicizing such feats can lead to real resource degradation. Witness “Insta Lake,” the heavily trammeled off-trail destination sought out for selfies and formerly known as Delta Lake.

Shortcutting also is symptomatic of a society constantly looking for the easy way out. John Muir, the forefather of the American wilderness movement, used to bristle at the term “hike” for moving through the mountains, let alone “run.” Muir preferred “saunter,” which he traced to French pilgrims saying they were headed “a la sainte terre,” the holy land. For Muir the mountains were holy, “and we ought to saunter through them reverently,” he said. Reverence is a quality all too lacking these days, as is discretion. There’s a long outlaw tradition in climbing, and while free spirits sometimes bypass trails, they smartly keep quiet.