Let Them Step On Used Needles

Last weekend, while on a run with Levi, I wheeled the jogging stroller right through a pile of open syringes. The stroller – a heavy-duty B.O.B. brand, worth every penny – didn’t flinch. I realized what I’d done after I crunched a couple with my sneaker, but after establishing that nothing was punctured, I continued on my merry way. (This story has a happy ending. Well, sort of.)

Surviving a run through our neighborhood.

During the remainder of the run (ok, ok. . . it was technically a jog, even before the needle incident), I was reminded of a book I read last fall, Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv. The book presents the compelling theory that children need to enjoy physical connection with nature in order to reach their full potential in all things. In a nutshell, Louv observes that after a certain age, children want to be plugged in, and as electrical outlets are generally inside, kids these days do not have a strong connection to the Great Outdoors. I loved the book because it reinforced what I had always considered a universal truth: that one of our basic human needs is to feel connected to the living, breathing world around us.

Among the many excellent points Louv makes in the book is: “Expeditions to the mountains or national parks often pale, in a child’s eyes, in comparison to the mysteries of the ravine at the end of the cul-de-sac.” This is a comforting theory to people who are daunted by the thought of taking their wee ones on day trips to the mountains. Considering how much strategizing is required for a simple trip to Target, preparing for a hike in the mountains can seem like a monstrous undertaking. (During our first summer of hiking with Levi, I seriously considered renting a mule.)

The problem I brooded on during the last leg of my jog was that I don’t live on a cul-de-sac. And honestly, I don’t think I’d want Levi playing in a ravine, even if there was one, in the neighborhood I live in.

A year and a half ago, the Menauls moved to the city of Burien, which is just south of Seattle. Those of you familiar with “B-Town” are, by extension, also familiar with the love/hate relationship one can have with fringe-city life. (I often toy with the idea of dropping The Wee Wanderer and writing exclusively about the goings on at our beloved Fred Meyer, considered by many to be the epicenter of Burien life. Every time I leave Freddy’s I feel at once proud and disgusted to be a member of the human race. But I digress.) After reading Louv’s book, I tried to imagine Levi playing in the gutter on 136th Street (the closest thing we have to a ravine around here), fashioning toy boats out of beer cans and hypodermic needles, maybe using a surgical glove for the sail. . . Ah, the simple pleasures of childhood!

Burien may not have ravines, but it’s got some rad highway overpasses.

The ravine theory simply doesn’t work for our part of B-Town.

But, to be honest, Louv is right: we don’t have to escape Burien to get our Vitamin N. We can access the Great Outdoors on a daily basis without a huge day trip or the fear of being stabbed with a syringe. With a little bit of investigating, I found sizeable green spaces – North SeaTac Park and the semi-secret Indian Trail are two of our favorite hangouts – only a couple miles away from home. (I respect arguments that syringes might be found in North SeaTac Park, but I’ve never seen one. Dog poop? Absolutely. Broken glass? Aplenty. But needles? Never.)

N SeaTac Park, our stomping grounds (Be careful where you stomp.)

Even closer to home, we decided to bring the Great Outdoors to our backyard. Last Spring, we bought a bunch of logs from a guy on Craig’s List, and constructed our own little adventure playground behind the house. (The occasional beer can might find its way onto the premises, but that’s about as sketchy as it gets.) Now, we don’t even have to leave our property to get our Vitamin N.

After finishing Last Child in the Woods, I was inspired, so I also read Let Them Be Eaten By Bears, a book by Peter Hoffmeister that takes its title from Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire: “A venturesome minority will always be eager to set off on their own, and no obstacle should be placed in their path; let them take risks, for godsake, let them get lost, sunburnt, stranded, drowned, eaten by bears, buried alive under avalanches – that is the right and privilege of any free American.”

At the time of this writing, given the Coronavirus pandemic, there are even more “obstacles” facing the free spirits of children. It will be tempting in the coming weeks to let our children plug in and stay safe. It will be a challenge to remain a part of that “venturesome minority,” when taking a risk includes letting kids be within 6 feet of each other. (Ever try telling a 3-year-old to keep his hands to himself? Not gonna happen, people.)

Staying physically safe is everyone’s top priority now. But for our mental health, let’s get creative about ways to get our kids (and our grownups!) outside as often as possible. It’s more important than ever. And at least here in B-Town, we don’t have to worry about being eaten by bears; avoiding used syringes is our “right and privilege” around here.

Stay safe, friends!

Keeping his hands to himself at the N SeaTac BMX Park