On the drive home I brooded about it. What bothered me most was not that some people were so thoughtless or destructive, but that the people who had made those tracks might not even have known they were doing wrong: the old signage was gone, a casualty of sun and pervasive high winds in that remote place. Just as more and more people were visiting these badlands, there was now no reminder left of their status: A Wilderness Study Area (WSA), just short of actual wilderness status, but subject to some of the same rules. No mechanized vehicles are allowed, including cars, trucks, all terrain vehicles, dirt bikes, and mountain bikes. I've seen the tracks of bicycles and photographer's wheeled carts in the Bisti, and those ruts were still visible years later. Leave nothing but footprints, folks, and even try to keep those to the minimum. These places are fragile beyond belief!

Two weeks later I visited the BLM offices in Farmington, New Mexico. They signed me in as a guest, and one of their employees (I wish I had gotten her name) spent a good amount of time with me. She showed me maps and other documents, and assured me that the person who dealt with the badlands was in a meeting at the time, but he would certainly be informed of my concerns. I had done what I could, I supposed, but left unsure that I had really accomplished anything.

Two months after that I returned to Ah-shi-sle-pah and got a small but early Christmas present. The BLM had installed signs out near the county road. Bureaucracy lumbers along, but many of these government employees care about the same things you and I care about. And they work for you, so let them know what you think, hopefully in a constructive manner. You have nothing to lose but time, and everything to gain.

There are many unnamed badlands out there to explore, but please check the status of the land before traipsing in. The BLM has maps showing who controls what, and there are patches of tribal land and private land out there that you should know the status of before entering.