Places Rated: Best and Worst Cities for Nature and Outdoor Recreation

I’ve been fortunate to have lived in a handful of cities in the United States that are truly “nature-friendly,” putting a priority on urban greenspace and wildlands. I have also lived in and visited cities that were not so eco-savvy. I would like to start a public ranking of cities based on criteria I shall explain here.

Meanwhile, I must issue a disclaimer that this is not currently a part of the official Places Rated books and website. In my humble opinion, it should be, and that is one of my goals.

What parameters am I using to come up with my rankings? One is number of parks per capita. This is already known thanks to the Trust for Public Lands, and as of 2011 Madison, Wisconsin is number one, followed by Cincinnati, Ohio. St. Petersburg, Anchorage, and Buffalo round out the top five.

Beyond simply parks, I take into account total greenspace, climate (Does the weather encourage people to go outdoors?), biodiversity, accessibility beyond personal transportation (Does public transit serve parks? Are there trails for bikes and pedestrians between parks?), urban planning, and diversity of funding for purchasing, developing, and maintaining parklands.

I can only speak to the places I have lived, so I hereby invite others to chime in with an assessment of their own hometown, based on their personal experience.

My personal rankings for Best Cities for Nature are (drumroll, please):

1. Cincinnati, Ohio
2. Colorado Springs, Colorado
3. Portland, Oregon

So far, my “Worst” list has only one city: Tucson, Arizona. You can read some of the reasons for my opinion in my blog entry ”The Trouble With Tucson.”

Now for a quick summary of why I hold the other three cities in such high esteem.
#1. Cincinnati, Ohio. I moved to Cincinnati in 1988 and resided there through most of 1999. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of relatively undisturbed greenspace for such a historically old city. The geographic location, situated on the Ohio River opposite northern Kentucky and adjacent to Indiana (the Miami River separates the two states), means very high biodiversity in the region. Eastern deciduous forests in general are rich in flora and fauna, but there is both a northern and southern influence here. The only habitats missing are non-riparian wetlands. Ponds are mostly on golf courses here, and artificial impoundments built for recreation do not support as much wildlife as natural lakes. Most city parks are easily accessible by public transportation. County parks are, unfortunately, not served by buses, with rare exceptions. The privately-owned Cincinnati Nature Center requires membership, and/or fees for entry. I have a real problem with that. Still, Cincinnati and Hamilton County love their parks and are dedicated to maintaining and even expanding them.

#2. Colorado Springs, Colorado. I moved to “The Springs” in October of 2011, but I can already tell that this city is special. Nowhere have I found park accessibility to be this easy. A system of regional trails would let me hike to Wyoming or New Mexico if I had a mind to do so. Buses serve most city parks or get you within spitting distance. The topography of the city, which ranges from high plains to high peaks, means an enormous diversity of habitats and therefore high biodiversity. I have found insects here that are common to Arizona, Oregon, and Ohio. Again, the only habitats lacking are standing waters, and there are fairly decent facsimiles of natural lakes and ponds anyway. A combination of government agencies and non-profit organizations are dedicated to preserving parks and securing new lands, too, though budgets are very tight here. Over 300 days of sunshine each year guarantee ample opportunity to get outside. Parks get an incredible amount of use, and trails have a lot of traffic, especially on weekends. Not only are hikers, runners, dog-walkers, and horse-riders likely to be encountered on the path, but mountain bikes as well on some trails. This multi-use mandate is something of a drawback in my own opinion as a wildlife-watcher, but it means high use and therefore a high priority among government officials. I’m a long way from having exhausted all the wild areas Colorado Springs has to offer, and that alone is exciting.

#3. Portland, Oregon. I spent the first twenty-seven years of my life in Portland and have been spoiled by that fact. Portland has raised zoning and urban planning to an art form. Bond issues for parks pass overwhelmingly when put on the ballot. Despite the truly rainy climate (not quantity, but sheer number of wet or dreary days), people go to parks in droves. Portland would be at the top of my list were it not for the dominant coniferous forest habitats that have such weak biodiversity. I found open areas like Oaks Bottom and Powell Butte to be more to my liking than Tryon Creek State Park (yes, there is a state park in the city limits!), or Forest Park. Still, parks are linked by the “40 Mile Loop,” or soon will be, as envisioned by the Olmstead brothers who conceived of Portland’s park system over a century ago.

Your turn! Tell me why your city should rank high or low using the criteria of parks with wild areas, urban planning, park use, biodiversity, climate, accessibility, and funding. I look forward to your replies, and will post the longer, more thoughtful ones as guest blogs.

Rea Farm ("The Beanery")

I have to thank Abigail Parker for her intimate knowledge of all the best places to go for birds and insects in the Cape May region of New Jersey. One of my favorite stops was at the Rea Farm, where we visited on October 17 of this year.

Actually, I should also thank Abby for letting Heidi Genter and myself be her guests, since Rea Farm is only open to members of the New Jersey Audubon Society. The site was once a working lima bean farm, hence the local name of “The Beanery.” The idle remains of the huge lima been shucking machines are a landmark for the parking area at the entrance to the birding area. They look like covered bridges to nowhere.

Property owners Les and Diane Rea decided to lease visitation rights to the Cape May Bird Observatory (a project of New Jersey Audubon) beginning in 1999, in the wake of sharply falling demand for lima beans. They also grow flowers, and run a nearby farmstand where you can purchase local fruits and vegetables.

The Beanery comprises 82 acres and is located near the very center of Cape Island. It is consistently the warmest place on the isle in late autumn. Migrating birds may linger there longer, among the fields, hedgerows, and swampy woodlands. The three fields, ringed with tractor paths, are the centerpiece of the farm. Several species of sparrows frequent the tall grass and autumn aster flowers, providing a real challenge for birders.

Then there are the raptors. Hawks, vultures, and even eagles like the immature Bald Eagle above can be seen daily over the fields as they rise on thermals in the afternoon. The unobscured skies over the fields and parking area afford great views of the soaring birds.

There is no shortage of insects, either, particularly Buckeye butterflies, their caterpillars, and chrysalids. At least they were very abundant during our visit.

Dragonflies forage over the fields as well, including the Common Green Darner, and Carolina Saddlebags (below).

The crops that are still grown feed grasshoppers as well as people, and while this Carolina Grasshopper found them tasty, I’m sure that such insects are not welcomed!

Rea Farm is yet another gem among the seemingly endless jewels that are Cape May birding areas. I can hardly wait to go back and visit during another season, to see what else calls the area home.

Resaca de la Palma State Park

The first stop on Bugguide’s “Texas Mini-Gathering” in early June was Resaca de la Palma State Park in Brownsville, Cameron County. The park is only three years old, but at 1200 acres it is the largest park in the World Birding Center contingent of south Texas parks.

Resaca is Spanish for an “oxbow lake,” a wetland cut off from a river that now takes a different path. The wetlands are being restored at Resaca de la Palma, but during the hot, dry season of late spring and summer, water is still scarce. What little water remains does attract a number of water birds such as the Least Grebe shown below.

Our party of three was given the royal treatment from naturalist Katherine Miller and her interns Cynthia and Ryan. We were taken on a tram ride (visualize an electric golf cart built for 8-10 passengers and no clubs) that covers 3.2 miles within the park, stopping anytime we spied something interesting. Cynthia found this spectacular, albeit deceased Beautiful Mesquite Borer, Callona rimosa as we went whizzing by at…about 2 mph.

The visitor center is surrounded by a garden that attracts a dazzling array of butterflies and other insects. One could easily just relax and stake out the bird feeders, too. In the heat and humidity it is a tempting option. Those who do wander the trails will find shade in most places, and be treated to wildlife such as armadillo, lizards, and toads. The trails are certainly used by nocturnal mammals, too, and they leave their, um, calling cards along the way. A pile of scat can be as attractive as a bouquet of flowers, though, as this pair of Mexican Bluewing butterflies attests.

Despite our arrival during the “off season,” the park had no shortage of things to offer and I encourage folks to pay a visit whenever they can. Amenities include eight miles of walking trails, and four wood platforms that each overlook a section of the four-mile Resaca. Watch for active oriole nests (in June at least). Keep an eye out for the large but shy Plain Chachalaca.

You’re likely to hear them more often than you see them. You might also be treated to a display from a Yellow-Crowned Night-Heron.

Many thanks again to Katherine for going out of her way for us (she even escorted us on a night hike). You will never get so much out of a $4.00 admission to anything. Note that your comfort will hinge a great deal on keeping well hydrated, tolerating annoying insects like eye gnats, and repelling chiggers with sulphur or another treatment.

Save the Scenic Santa Ritas

While enduring delays at the Houston airport on my way back to Tucson from south Texas on June 8, I had the good fortune to strike up a conversation with Joan Williams, who lives near Sonoita, Arizona. She is a mover and shaker in a grassroots effort to prevent a new mine from sprouting up in the very scenic Santa Rita Mountains. She convinced me to take action, and I urge you to do the same.

Southern Arizona is already studded with mines, and/or the scars left in their aftermath, and this one, proposed by Augusta Resource Corporation (a Canadian entity) and its subsidiary Rosemont Copper Company, would be a real eyesore and an environmental mess. It is certainly not an industry compatible with the ranching lifestyle currently enjoyed by residents of Santa Cruz County, or the eco-tourism industry. I can just imagine the next tour operator pointing out a bird sitting “right over there on that pile of tailings.”

The root of this current mess of public hearings, environmental impact statements, and other bureaucratic appeasement is the antiquated General Mining Law of 1872. As unimaginable as it seems, the price of staking a claim has not changed one cent since that date. You can still stake a claim for $2.50 to $5.00 an acre. Our current federal officials are loathe to impede corporate mining interests and have not acted to even reflect current prices for metals extracted from claims.

So, we are left to fight mining claims on a case-by-case basis, with little help from government. Enter Save the Scenic Santa Ritas and the Hilton Ranch Road Community Organization, both devoted to blocking the proposed mine. The groups have succeeded in mobilizing a large contingent of local residents, citizen activists, scientists, and other stakeholders. Victories have thus far amounted to delaying the endorsement of the mine through normal bureaucratic channels. This is a pretty mean feat considering the tactics of the opposition, which have included buying up domain names likely to be used by groups opposing the mine. Such “greenwashing” has become the norm for public relations by the natural resource extraction industry. Fortunately, you can’t fool all the people all of the time, and more and more citizens are waking up every day.

Please consider making a difference through public comments, support of Save the Scenic Santa Ritas, and other approaches. Paraphrasing a popular legal quote, “A threat to the natural environment anywhere is a threat to the natural environment everywhere.” It is true. How can we expect other nations to clean up their act when we refuse to clean up our own? Thank you.

Culture as Spectacle

Ecotourism is becoming increasingly popular, but in tandem with the benefits can come costs to the indigenous peoples that occupy the same areas as the wildlife that visitors flock to see. It occurs to me that, too often, we treat those “other” cultures as a form of wildlife, too, and this needs to stop.

I had visited this subject privately, when I began thinking of Native Americans, and how they have been so stereotyped, in both positive and negative ways, and how, ultimately, any stereotype is a negative because it so limits one’s perspective.

I was prompted to think about this again while viewing an installment of the PBS series Independent Lens, which aired a documentary called Milking the Rhino on April 7, 2009. Kenya and Namibia were the two sites profiled, each with issues surrounding the sharing of wildlife and land between tourists and native tribes.

Historically, White colonials in Africa prohibited natives from hunting wildlife, a resource that indigenous peoples were dependent upon, in part, for food. Instead, game safaris allowed White hunters to shoot trophy animals. Later, creating national parks meant relocating tribes wholesale. Sound familiar?

Today, many tribes earn their livelihood through farming, and grazing livestock, which are equally unwelcome pursuits in many wildlife preserves. Ecotourism services have sought to balance this effect by employing tribespersons as guides, interpretive naturalists, liaisons with the scientific community, and as workers in the hospitality industry of lodges and camps build for tourists; and by growing food crops in gardens to be shared with the locals. Still, resentment boils over.

A filmed discussion between the lead government official in charge of Namibian game parks, and the woman in charge of the ecotourist lodge, was telling. She was protesting that the local tribe would essentially turn its village into a “curio shop” in order to sell souvenirs to her visitors. “This is not what [my clients] expect” she intoned emphatically. Her message was clear. Visitors expected tribal peoples to behave naturally, just like the other animals they came to see.

Well, why shouldn’t the tribe be able to exploit the tourists? Seems the least they should be allowed to do in exchange for being exploited themselves. My mind drifts to what I imagine will ultimately happen to tribal customs and rituals. A choreographer from Broadway will be sent to Papua New Guinea to instruct the tribes in how to properly execute their native dances. Don’t forget the wardrobe assistant, either.

The tragedy, as I see it, is that in the act of providing entertainment services to tourists, tribes are corrupting their customs, stripping the meaning from their rituals, and we all lose when that happens. There is no reverence in culture as spectacle, no sacrifice demanded of passive observers. It is us westerners who need to change our expectations, and recognize our arrogance.

For more on Milking the Rhino, and to participate in the ongoing online discussion, please visit the Independent Lens website.