America Got a New National Park. Your Scratch-Off Poster Isn’t the Only Thing That Changed.
Somewhere in America, a national park completist just looked at their fully scratched-off NP poster and sighed.
On October 20, Chiricahua National Monument became Chiricahua National Park—America’s 64th national park and its first new one since New River Gorge received the title in 2020.
That sounds like uncomplicated good news, right? A remarkable place received greater national recognition. Bipartisan legislation passed. People who have worked for years to elevate Chiricahua finally get to celebrate.
And, yes, a whole lot of scratch-off posters are suddenly out of date, including mine.
But the change means more than a new sign at the entrance—and less than the phrase “new national park” might suggest.
First, Meet America’s “New” Old Park
Chiricahua National Park protects approximately 12,000 acres in southeastern Arizona, where grassland, desert, and forest ecosystems collide in what ecologists call a sky island.
The landscape is famous for its rhyolite pinnacles, balanced rocks, and narrow passageways. They look like someone handed geology a box of building blocks and walked away for 27 million years.
The park sits at the crossroads of four major biological regions and contains more than 1,000 plant species. Deer and wild turkeys are relatively common; coatis, black bears, bobcats, and mountain lions are among the more elusive residents. The surrounding Chiricahua Mountains are also considered one of the country’s premier birding destinations.
And then there are the nights. Chiricahua has been an International Dark Sky Park since 2021, recognized for both the quality of its night sky and its commitment to protecting it.
None of this suddenly became important when the president signed the bill. Chiricahua had been a national monument since 1924. It was already managed by the National Park Service. Its rocks, wildlife, trails, and cultural resources were already federally protected.
The new law does not add acreage. It does not change the park’s ownership or management. It does not arrive with a generous new budget tucked under its arm.
So what does it do?
A National Park Is More Than a Fancier Designation
Presidents under the Antiquities Act can establish national monuments. The same law does not clearly say whether later presidents may shrink or eliminate them—an omission now at the center of major fights over places such as Bears Ears and Grand Staircase–Escalante.
National parks, however, are created by Congress. Changing that status generally requires Congress to act again.
That gives Chiricahua’s new title a measure of permanence that matters, especially at a time when the boundaries and futures of national monuments can swing between administrations.
The Chiricahua National Park Act also directs the Interior Department to protect traditional cultural and religious sites, consult with affiliated Tribal nations, and maintain Tribal access for customary activities. Limited areas may be closed temporarily when necessary to protect those practices.
That provision matters because this is not merely an interesting formation of rocks. It is part of the homeland of the Chiricahua Apache, whose history includes forced removal from the landscape now being celebrated.
A national park story that begins with volcanic eruptions but leaves out the people removed from the land is not the whole story.
The New Title Comes With a Spotlight—but No New Staff
“National park” is one of the most powerful tourism labels in America. People plan vacations around it. They collect stamps, check boxes, and—yes—scratch parks off posters.
That attention can benefit nearby communities and help more people understand why Chiricahua deserves protection. It can also bring more cars, heavier trail use, additional campground demand, and greater pressure on wildlife, cultural sites, and dark skies.
Before the redesignation, Chiricahua received only about 60,000 visitors annually. That could change quickly.
What has not changed is the park’s annual budget. The legislation provides no automatic increase in staffing or operating money—even as the National Park Service faces workforce reductions and deferred maintenance across the system.
A national park designation is a spotlight. It is not a staffing plan.
That does not make the designation empty. It means the celebration should include asking whether the Park Service will have enough rangers, maintenance workers, interpreters, and scientists to care for all 64 parks.
Field Tip: Put It on the List, Not the Rush
If Chiricahua has just landed on your wanderlist, excellent. It’s been on mine too. But “new national park” does not mean we all need to race there immediately. Visit during a quieter season or weekday if you can. Check current National Park Service guidance before going. Stay on established trails, respect cultural closures, and keep artificial light to a minimum after dark.
Spend money in nearby communities. Learn whose homeland you are visiting. Treat the park like a living place—not a collectible.
That may be the real promise of the new designation: not simply that more people will go, but that more people will understand what is there and feel invested in protecting it.
So, Is This Cause for Celebration?
I think it is.
A landscape with extraordinary geology, biodiversity, cultural importance, and genuinely dark skies has received a more durable designation. Bipartisan support for public lands is worth noticing when it happens. So is legislation that explicitly protects Tribal access.
But celebrating a new national park cannot mean ignoring the old problem: America is very good at giving magnificent places new titles and considerably less reliable about supplying the people and money required to care for them.
Go ahead and buy the updated scratch-off poster.
Then ask Congress to fund the places printed on it.
Author Kayt Myers is a volunteer DarkSky International Advocate.
Field Trip participates in Covering Climate Now’s 89 Percent Project, which reports on the overwhelming global majority that wants stronger climate action.
