Visiting a national park lately is like watching a toddler hug a kitten.
It is both heart-warming and harrowing. The child's squeezes convey their love and delight. Yet, you know their enthusiasm could inadvertently hurt the kitten.
There's a whole lotta love for national parks these days. According to National Park Service data, the number of annual visits grew by 19 percent from 2013 to 2023. And it's safe to say the parks are feeling the squeeze.
That was particularly evident during a visit April and I made to Pinnacles National Park in Central California over a recent holiday weekend. We arrived on a Sunday morning before 9:30 to find rangers blocking the park's east-side road. The trailhead parking lots already had reached capacity, so they pointed us to an overflow lot where we needed to park before boarding a shuttle bus.
Neither of us remembered shuttle buses during our last visit, which was more than a few years ago. The wait wasn't bad, and it was an easy ride to the Bear Gulch Nature Center where we disembarked to begin our hike.
On the trail, Pinnacles felt more like a theme park than a national park. There were groups ahead of us, behind us and passing us as we made our way to Bear Gulch Reservoir via Moses Spring Trail and the Bear Gulch Caves Trail.
The caves are among the chief reasons the park is so popular - and they don't disappoint. Sunlight penetrates some places, illuminating green moss carpeting the red rocks. But in others, you need a flashlight to pick your way forward. Stairs hewn into the rock and sturdy handrails help guide you along the path. In the darkness, water gurgles over boulders below. The stream is consistently audible, but not often visible.
We emerged to find the reservoir surrounded by groups of hikers taking a break to soak in the sun.
The scene looks like a studio backlot. The pond-size reservoir is surrounded by red rock features that vary in shape from boulders to vertical fins. They loom above the surrounding oak scrub and manzanita, as well as the tall pines that somehow manage to take root among the rocks.
After taking our own break, we headed down the 1.2-mile Rim Trail to complete our hike as a loop. The trail provided a look down into the gulch that we had traversed on our way up. It was a little less crowded at first. But then we rounded a corner to find multiple sets of parents helping their toddlers take a pee break.
Oddly, they weren't the only ones we saw that morning heeding nature's call in plain sight. On our way to the park, we drove by a woman squatting on the roadside next to her Tesla with her pants around her ankles in plain view of passing drivers.
While questionable visitor behavior seems to be a regular part of the national park experience now, you can still count on the parks to deliver what they always have - those moments of unexpected magic.
On our way back to the shuttle stop, we saw a family standing still just off the trail. Mom, dad and kids watched what looked to be a juvenile deer moving through the grass just a few steps from them.
It walked unhurriedly, glancing over its shoulder to train its large dark eyes on them. Content with their distance, it kept the same indifferent pace while it crossed the trail and then ambled across the nearby road before wandering into the treeline.
It was a good reminder that our national parks, like kittens, are meant to be enjoyed. And, even when clumsily handled, they never fail to delight.
Eric Harnish lives in Castaic.

Pinnacles National Park
nps.gov/pinn