Atop one of the highest peaks in the eastern United States sits a picturesque example of what America’s national parks could be—if only the government hadn’t effectively outlawed commerce within their boundaries.
This is LeConte Lodge, built in 1926 and accessible only by a series of hiking trails that wind up the side of 6,500-foot Mt. LeConte. The Tennessee lodge exists only because it was grandfathered in when the boundaries of Great Smoky Mountains National Park were drawn in 1934. Farmers, logging companies, and other property owners in the area were given the boot. Thankfully, the lodge was allowed to stay.
Nearly a century later, it’s time for the federal government to recognize private investment need not be at odds with the goal of protecting nature for future generations. Ending the National Park Service (NPS) will mean more facilities like LeConte Lodge can thrive—and entice more Americans to experience the most beautiful parts of the country in new ways.
For hikers, a trip to LeConte Lodge is like a step back through time. There’s no electricity or running water, but a full meal and a real bed sure beats dehydrated backpacking food and sleeping on the ground. For the price of an overnight stay in one of LeConte’s dozen or so cabins, guests get a full dinner—including generous servings of wine, coffee, and dessert—and a hot breakfast to send them on their way. (Since you’re surely wondering: The food and linens are delivered periodically by a team of llamas.)
Facilities like this are an oddity in America, though it will sound more familiar to anyone who has hiked in the Alps, which are riddled with lodges that offer backpackers warm meals and beds in exchange for a fee. How can it be that we’ve allowed the Europeans to surpass us when it comes to outdoorsy capitalism?
Some of the blame falls on mistakes that were made long ago, like the forced displacement of the farmers and homesteaders in the land now occupied by Great Smoky Mountains National Park and Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. Had they been allowed to stay, some might have converted their land to provide services and accommodations to the hikers and other visitors wandering the newly built trails nearby. Again, Europe offers a real-world example of what that might look like: In Italy’s Puez- Geisler Nature Park, you’ll stumble upon grazing cattle and can stop for a bite to eat at privately owned refugio that operate within the park’s boundaries.
That error can’t be undone at this point, but rethinking how to best manage America’s national parks could help alleviate the snarled traffic and shortage of facilities that are evident at many of them—to say nothing of the $22 billion maintenance backlog that the NPS reported this summer.
It’s true there are some luxury accommodations available within America’s National Parks, like the famous Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone. Or maybe you’ll be lucky enough to nab a permit for one of the limited campsites. More likely, a trip to a national park means schlepping yourself back to an Airbnb or hotel in some nearby town that largely exists to provide the services effectively outlawed within the park itself (such as Moab, Utah, which sits just outside the Arches and Canyonlands parks).
It doesn’t have to be this way. There is incredible demand for stays at LeConte—the lodge’s reservation list opens for the following year each November, and it fills to capacity within days. Miss that window, and you’ll have to hope to nab a spot off the waiting list. (That’s how a friend and I finally got to visit earlier this year.)
The free market could and would support more of these lodges—there are already some on private land along the Appalachian Trail in New Hampshire, and another chain of them exists in Colorado. But similar services cannot exist within America’s national parks because the National Park Service would not allow a place like LeConte Lodge to open today.
This is the perfect time to rethink how such parks should work. The NPS reported more than 325 million visitors last year, nearly a record high. The growing appeal of America’s glorious outdoor spaces is undeniable. But the federal government’s fiscal problems mean there is likely to be less and less funding available for the national parks, even as they deal with maintenance issues and overcrowding.
In short, the NPS will have a hard time maintaining its current level of service in the years ahead, even as it already feels like the parks could offer so much more.
One possible answer? Some states and other parts of the federal government have privatized parts of their public spaces in order to offload maintenance costs and expand their facilities. The U.S. Forest Service (USFS), which manages 193 million acres of federal land (bigger than Texas), has been offloading day-to-day management of campgrounds, marinas, and other facilities since the 1990s. The USFS has more flexibility in managing its lands because, from the outset, the agency has operated under a mandate to allow multiple uses. The USFS is charged with balancing the interests of preservation, recreation, and commercial activities, such as logging and grazing. Within the NPS, however, preservation is paramount, even when other uses wouldn’t cause environmental degradation.
The result has not been the stuff of environmentalist nightmares. Instead, the contracts handed out to the private concessionaires that operate on USFS land limit what the private managers can charge, restrict what they can build, and require them to uphold the conservation mission. Using land and protecting it for future generations need not be an either-or proposition, as any responsible person understands.
So abolish the NPS, let the USFS manage the lands currently within the NPS portfolio, and give the agency the power to offload responsibilities to contractors and nonprofits that can be trusted to respect the environment while expanding the services and activities available to visitors.
Allowing the private sector to operate more services would also free the parks from being pawns in future government shutdowns. Why should politicians who can’t manage a budget be allowed to cancel your weekend camping trip?
Abolishing the NPS and revising how America’s most beautiful public lands are protected would create more ways for Americans to interact with some of the best parts of the country. And it might allow for more great establishments like LeConte Lodge—funded by the guests that stay there, and not dependent on taxpayers. Because great experiences deserve to be duplicated.
