Park Perspectives:

Ecotourism at home and abroad

Monkey

By TOM WOODMAN

As I’m writing these sentences  I’m sitting outside a cabana high in the Maya Mountains of western Belize. Across the river in front of me, clouds slide down the face of limestone cliffs. The rainforest that blankets these mountains is clamorous in the early morning with the whine of cicadas, the calls of countless birds, and the faint roar of distant howler monkeys.

Jeannie and I are on vacation, an ecotour that will include rainforest walks, cave exploration, and paddle trips. We will peer through dense foliage at Toucans, crane our necks to watch monkeys move through the trees, and follow the snuffling progress of dozens of coatis, looking like a cross between supersized possums and raccoons as they nose the ground for food.

Even though I live in an Adirondack environment of equal beauty, there’s something special about being in this Neotropical forest. Being here recharges the spirit and renews the sense of wonder that discovering nature imparts.

Renewal, in several senses, is what lies at the heart of ecotourism. Individual tourists experience the powerful renewal of a fresh and exciting relationship with nature. In many cases, the natural world itself is renewed as people and governments work to restore it and protect it as a resource to draw visitors.

White-tailed doe by Gerry LemmoNow, as I write these next sentences two weeks later I’m back home and have just returned to the office from a lunchtime walk. As I descended a wooded path a white-tailed doe stepped onto the trail ahead of me. No more than ten yards away she regarded me calmly, then moved back under the trees. Thinking she had run off I started down the path again but realized she was still there. She stood in the understory, arching her neck to chew on the leaves above her. She was unconcerned about my presence. Her only precaution was to flex a foreleg as if poising for flight while she resumed her lunch.

This moment was special, a close, intimate encounter with nature. Special, but not exceptional. We encounter deer commonly in the Adirondacks, to the point that some consider them a nuisance. (Not me. I try to deter them from munching our gardens, yes. But I’m always happy to see deer.)

This experience had its counterpart on our Central American trip. At Yaxha, an ancient Maya city in Guatemala, we stood by a temple and watched a troop of spider monkeys move through the forest. As they sped through the canopy, they came to a large gap separating them from the next trees.

One after another, they would swing to the end of a long branch, bounce it up and down like a diving board, and launch themselves across the gap, grabbing the branches of a tree at least thirty feet away and scrambling on.

For us this was a magical moment that will remain in our memory. For the guides and the temple watchmen, it was a regular sight, special but not unusual, rewarding as much for the wonder it brought their visitors as for its charm to them.

Placing ourselves in an unfamiliar environment brought it alive for us, just as a city dweller sees things with new eyes when they venture to the Adirondacks. For many who travel to our Park, encountering a deer is as magical as our time with the spider monkeys. It has the same power to refresh the spirit and establish a lasting connection with the natural world.

The tourism industry in the Adirondacks, of course, has long recognized the restorative power of the wild experience and has practiced forms of ecotourism, usually without calling it that. But it hasn’t fully developed the potential of ecotourism to be a larger part of its identity as a destination and a bigger share of the tourist business.

Belize, like Costa Rica and other special natural areas, are making big commitments to the concept, preserving large amounts of their lands. They do this not only for the intrinsic value of conservation but as a bet that the natural wonders they save (or restore) will become economic drivers to lift the standard of living of the local residents. If that succeeds, the economic interest, in turn, becomes a driver for natural preservation in regions where there many threats to the environment.

There are various levels of the ecotour experience. In the Maya Mountains, we stayed in a rustic lodge immersed in the wild. It generates its own power with microturbines turned by water falling from a mountain spring and grows its own organic food. The lack of the usual resort amenities is part of the attraction. Other lodges offer higher levels of creature comfort, groom their grounds, and attract visitors who want a luxe side to their wild experience. These places, too, bring visitors into nature, introduce them to exotic experiences, and often send them home with a deeper appreciation of wild nature and a commitment to keep it safe.

So the details of what constitutes ecotourism vary, but they share some important principles. As expressed by the United Nations and other international groups, eco-tours should:

• Provide significant benefits to local residents, especially good work at fair pay.

• Contribute to the sustainable management of natural resources.

• Incorporate environmental education for tourists and residents.

• Manage tours to minimize negative impacts on the environment and local culture.

In the Adirondacks we benefit from decades of effort to preserve the natural wonders that draw millions of visitors a year. Already outfitters, lodges, and guides offer some of the experiences that attract ecotourists. With a concerted, regional effort to develop a larger culture of ecotourism here, and given the concentration of potential customers within easy travel, there’s no reason the Adirondacks can’t become as well known for ecotourism as international destinations like Costa Rica or Belize.