While boys my age huddled in their bedroom closets sneaking peeks at scantily-clothed women, I nurtured fantasies of another sort. “State Capitol Building,” (city, state), I’d write. “Dear Sir: Please send me information about your state for my school project. Sincerely yours, Nancy Werking.”
In return for my effort and three-cent stamps provided by my parents, I received brochures from nearly every state. I filed the materials alphabetically in a cardboard box, stored in my bedroom closet.
It was the second state, Arizona, that most captured my imagination. (Alaska hadn’t yet been admitted.) Arizona’s P.R. materials had glossy photographs of rugged mountain peaks, varieties of cacti, Native Americans engaging in rituals. Colors were the browns and oranges of the earth, and turquoise.
I’ve just returned from seventeen days in Arizona. While Facebook friends back home complained about frigid temperatures, I absorbed the warmth of the Arizona sun. My husband and I hiked in the desert and visited old Spanish missions. Every morning I ate breakfast out on the balcony of our little efficiency apartment.
It wasn’t my first trip to Arizona, but the first time I’ve considered how my travels impact the environment.
My husband and I flew round trip from Charlotte, NC, to Tucson, AZ. “According to the Department of Energy, an airplane emits 21 pounds of carbon dioxide per gallon of A-1 jet fuel it burns. If we need 6,900 gallons to fly a full plane round trip New York to Phoenix, that’s an emission of nearly 145,000 pounds of carbon dioxide” (http://gscleanenergy.blogspot.com/2013/04/how-much-gas-does-it-take-to-fly-you.html).
We rented a car. Budget upgraded us to a Chevrolet Impala, which gets about 22 miles per gallon in combined city/country driving. We drove an average of eighty miles a day, each day burning around four gallons of gasoline. Don’t ask me how, but a gallon of gasoline produces about 20 pounds of carbon dioxide.
Then there’s the issue of water. By definition a desert receives little rainfall. Yet, like the nearly million people living in the Tucson area, we regularly showered, flushed the toilet, washed our dishes, and did a few loads of laundry.
I’ve been fortunate to visit Europe, Africa, and Asia. I’ve been exposed to other cultures and have loved the people everywhere I’ve gone.
But for the sake of the planet, I may have to give up travel.
On the other hand, the U.S. is in a de-regulation mood. If so few care about Earth’s destruction, why should I?
(Nancy Werking Poling is author of a new book, “Before It Was Legal: a black-white marriage (1945-1987),” available where books are sold.)
Nancy Werking Poling 
You’ve illustrated a basic truth that we seldom think about. Thank you.
It’s a devil’s dilemma, however. Are you seriously thinking of giving up travel?
In any case, minding the true cost of our actions is so very important.
No, I’m not about to give up travel. It enriches my life in so many ways.
Your wisdom is something I think about even when traveling locally. On the other hand, living in a closet doesn’t work either. I think there is a balance for us to maintain. And with the reduction in flights available, it shows people in general are reducing their travel. On the other hand, cruise ships keep getting bigger and certainly pollute our oceans. I go back to balance and enjoying a modicum of balance in life.
Yes, balance.
There’s also the value of travel: meeting people of different backgrounds, for example. I especially enjoy learning about the history of a locale.