WHAT PRICE ‘VICTORY?’
Dear Zephyr, So much stink has been made about draining Lake Powell
and restoring Glen Canyon, and perhaps it should be so. But it's
my feeling that the flood of people already coming to the canyon
country is causing and will cause a greater destruction than any
reservoir of water could ever do. Fragile places like the Grand Canyon
have already been over whelmed by a deluge of people numbering in
the millions.
Money hungry guides and eco hiking expeditions stop at nothing in
the name of beauty and solitude. Everything that is sacred and precious
has been and will be exploited for the price of a ticket called wilderness
and solitude. Fragile places like the Escalante River Canyon and
the San Rafael Swell are already bending under the weight of thousands
of hikers and campers who are trying to get away from it all. . ..soon
it will be untold millions. Guide companies, outdoor magazines, wilderness
books and yes-even newspapers have exploited and prostituted a fragile
landscape in the name of thing called the Red Rock Country.
I think of Katie Lee's old book called 10,000 God Damn Cattle and
think she should now write book called 10 Million God Damn People.
It's hard to watch such a beautiful place die . . .kudos to the Colorado
Plateau. "Call a place paradise . . . kiss it goodbye."
D.Hartley N.Arizona
LETTERS ABOUT ‘MAHBU’
Dear Jim Stiles,
Right on the money, honey! As usual. As a long time tree hugger,
I've cultivated some serious depression about the unnecessary polarization;
and I cringe when I see what some "nature lovers" do in
the backcountry.
I wonder if it isn't the degree of common ground that causes the
polarization. After all, marxists of various stripes spend more time
attacking each other than they do capitalism. Dare I say that more
christians have been killed by fellow christians? Often over trivial
points of doctrine or practice. It is the overwhelming similarities
that require the distinctions to be emphasized so bitterly. In time
the similarities are forgotten and you risk a straight jacket and
medication if you dare to bring it up. To all the earthie-hating
rednecks out there: I'm ready to talk and it seems as though the
Zephyr might serve as a place to start that dialogue.
I could never feel good about all the deforestation, open pit mines,
etc. But the mark of a true reformer is that they want to put themselves
out of business. I fear that some environmentalists want to remain
environmentalists. Personally, I could find something else to do.
Sincerely,
Matthew Haun
Salt Lake City
Jim,
The first time I almost almost went to Moab was in the summer of
1986, whenI was wandering around the west in my brand-new Mazda 323,
the first car I ever owned that I trusted to get me further west
than the flint hills of Kansas. Before that I relied on hitchiking
and bus rides for my annual pilgrimage beyond the hundredth meridian,
both modes of transit which led to frequent adventures with parole-jumpers
and perverts, not entirely unwelcome but unnerving enough to generally
motivate me to reach the end of the road (any road) as quickly as
possible and strike out with my back to the rest of humanity.
Anyway, on this trip me and my little car were enjoying the road
for its own sake (ah, the love-hate relationship with blacktop -
a topic for another letter) and I found myself gassing up in Crescent
Junction, at dusk. I don't remember much except the gas pumps were
still old-fashioned, with the flourescent lights on curved posts
over the pumps, and the Chinese Elms were sighing in the breeze.
It was a junction, so I was trying to decide which way to go, considering
heading up to Salt Lake, where I'd never been, or Moab, which I'd
never heard of. There were a couple of other guys there getting gas,
with plates from further east than mine. They said they'd just come
from Moab, and there was nothing there. I don't know what I could
have been thinking, but I took the other and drove almost all the
way to Evanston that night.
It was three years later when I finally wandered into the canyon
country, by way of the Weminuche Wilderness, stopping over at the
Needles District for awhile, moseying around, then making my way
in to Moab and its surrounds. My paltry prose cannot capture my reaction
to it all, and all I can say is I haven't been the same person since.
Within a couple years, I started graduate school at USU, living 30
miles west of Logan in a 1966 Marlette single-wide (another love-hate
story), enjoying the view of our alfalfa field and the cattle grazing
the Bear River bottoms below.
Visits to southeast Utah were frequent, mostly just wandering, but
also on the federal dime a few times, interviewing public health
workers and their clients, Old Westerners as you call them, as part
of a university research project. In Logan and smaller communities
nearby, training to become a psychologist, getting to know colleagues
and clients, Mormons, heathens, and everything in between. Being
blessed and fortunate with a wonderful wife, becoming an in-law among
the Dine' and both of us finally returning to the Reservation to
work. Old Westerners, New Westerners, students, visitors, and descendants
of the original inhabitants. I've tried to be a good listener among
them all.
Most regular people know there is something wrong, maybe they don't
know what it is but they look for answers anyway. Some people, both
Old and New Westerners, find answers on a personal level and carve
out a good life for themselves and their families, without being
seduced by corporate brainwashing or ideological extremism. Many
more are subjugated or manipulated by these tools of the tiny group
of the wealthiest ruling elite Americans. How do we find our answers
to this juggernaut, and take them beyond the personal level to the
community level, the regional level, and beyond? I don't know myself,
and one thing I've always appreciated about your stance, dear editor,
is that you don't purport to know either. But you just may have something
with this MAHBU idea. The Dalai Lama said, "Dialogue among people
is necessary to promote trust. It leads to better understanding and
to peace and harmony." If we were just to all start talking
and listening to one another, they might call it a movement. Count
me in.
Christopher Morris Shiprock, New Mexico
Jim-
In regards to MAHBU, thanks a lot. The West and its Anglo inhabitants
have always engaged in half-truths and inconsistencies, to the detriment
of the landscapes itself. From the paranoia that lead to the testing
of hundreds of nuclear weapons next door to the volatile and acerbic
barbs thrown indiscriminately by our favorite land-issues groups.
I used to call them public interest groups, but they have taken the
public out of their discourse, since in face to face meetings, they
would likely never use the terms and epithets they so freely launch
at each other in print and e-mail alerts, especially if they first
sat down and discussed their shared values as other members of the
public do when discussing their concerns. The refusal to tell the
truth to one another has hampered our ability as Westerners to move
from settlement to civilization with any consensus, plan or regard
for our neighbors. Communication among those with differing values
stops as soon as one participant attacks another’s value or
point of view. We will be forced to re-learn this lesson time and
time again, at the expense of losing control over the fate of our
landscapes to judicial decrees or the whims of revolving presidential
administrations. The solution lies in part in accepting competing
points of view as a part of the human landscape, not just tolerating
them.
This is not to say that we have to roll over and capitulate to all
the demands of those who we disagree with in regards to land use,
accessibility and recreation. But when we first recognize and identify
an inherent need for solitude as a restorative for our over-stimulated
minds, for example, we can then move onto discussion of how best
to manage and access the lands that provide such opportunities on
a level that leaves the name-calling and devaluation of opinions
behind in favor of real discourse and alternatives to the current
Gordian Knot that we are trying to unwind that is the future of life,
livelihoods and communities in the New West. Thanks for writing what
I have thought so many times in the last few years. My only wish
is that more people would adopt this MAHBU-stic approach to life
in the West.
Cheers-
Adam Shaw
Dear Jim:
I thought your article about MAHBU was excellent and reflects a
position I have taken for the past several years. I consider myself
an ""environmentalist"" but I have a problem
with the fact that so many of us are very quick to point the finger
of blame at the opposition without accepting responsibility for our
own part in the environmental problems.
I believe that consumption is the biggest contributor to our environmental
problems and, like it or not, money equals consumption. As citizens
of a country with the highest standard of living in the world, we
are all guilty of contributing to the degradation of our environment
and the more money one has, the more one consumes. Many pairs of
skiis, kayaks, roomfuls of climbing and backpacking gear, multiple
mountain or road bikes, gas guzzling sport utility vehicles, the
newest and latest in outdoor apparel, a home filled with Pottery
Barn furnishings, second homes or condos, are integral components
of the environmental issues we face. Unless environmentalists start
admitting their part in the problem, no one with opposing viewpoints
will ever listen and why should they? Sign me up for your organization!
Kathie Rivers
Dear Jim,
The time has come at long last to put my money where my mouth is.
With the imminent disappearance of Wildflower Magazine and the shrinking
of Wild Earth Magazine, there's very little left of my own personal
periodicals universe save The Zephyr. And if The Zephyr should blow
away in a Utah dust-storm, it won't be because I failed to give ŠŠ.
$99.99! So here's my check and my picture (it's 2 years old, but
what the hell, I've shaved since and got a smaller pair of spectacles,
big deal).
Please also sign me up as a heathen member of "Mormons & Heathens
for a Better Utah". My father has mentioned to me, on more than
one occasion, that Utah is the only place a Jew can be a Gentile.
This is not, of course, why I have frequented Utah over the years,
but the thought has never failed to amuse me. As a Gentile Heathen,
I would like to voice my support for the Zephyr, as opposed to writing
a check to do so (see paragraph 1).
Regarding the issues of concern to MAHBU, I think you have identified
the ultimate cause-of-it-all in a small advertisement box demonstrating
that the population of the United States has tripled over the course
of the last twenty years. Not only that, but in those twenty years,
some insidious developments occurred: the invention of the ATV and
the Mountain Bike.
When I first visited Moab in 1981, nobody had ever heard of a mountain
bike. ATVs did not exist either. There were, however, old-fashioned
jeep things around which no recreation juggernaut existed. Rock-climbing
was an esoteric sport pursued by only a few ardent enthusiasts. Snowmobiles
were stinky machines used by ranchers to herd wayward livestock in
Wyoming's snowy ranch country. The wide open west, however impacted,
was still pretty wide, still pretty open. It was, in essence, an
innocent time, the 'good old days' in many respects. Without having
ever heard of Moab before, I drove right up to Arches park, signed
up for a campsite and took a hike in Devil's Garden. There was a
little dirt-packed parking lot at the trailhead and maybe six parked
cars. How times have changed. Later on, when I despaired of the growing
crowds, I started exploring dirt roads for campsites.
Without ever having established a brand new car-camping campsite,
always using an established site that somebody else had earlier pioneered,
my original campsites are now BLM revegetation sites. I've had to
go farther and farther afield to locate the solitude that was once
so easy to acquire. Of course, you can only go so far before you
come back full-circle to where you started. The outback is only so
far out there. My experience is hardly unique. There are simply three
times as many people as there used to be and interest in outdoor
recreational activity has probably increased a hundred-fold. But
the resource remains the same. There are only so many canyons in
canyon country, so many mountains in the high country, so many rivers
to run. It's not just about our ability to find solitude, though.
The environment is suffering and that suffering has long-term effects
such as the loss of biodiversity, atmospheric ozone depletion, endemic
extinction and environmentally-induced disease. Just as there are
only so many canyons to go around, there is only so much fresh water
and productive farmland on the face of planet earth and only so much
that technology can do to increase production of such resources,
despite the ever-growing increase in demand. Obviously there is a
population issue to address, but many think that the solutions to
these problems are not about population numbers, but rather about
consumption patterns.
Consumption patterns are, indeed, problematic. If every human being
on the planet consumed at the rate we Americans do, the ecological
collapse would happen tomorrow. Even if we continue to conserve and
reduce consumption, the numbers of consumers keeps growing. At the
current rate of growth, our sheer numbers will always out-strip any
improvement in conservation.
I'll be the first to admit that I access the outdoors environment
via an automobile. I participate in modern society and use computers,
televisions, guitar amplifiers, backpack stoves, compact disc players,
lawn-mower and, yes, automobiles. How long would it take me to walk
from Boulder, Colorado to Moab, Utah anyway? We human animals love
our technologies. So much so, in fact, that, as a collective, we
are depending on technology to solve our problems for us. But technology's
ability to keep up with the growth of human numbers has already been
superseded by those very numbers. We can conserve resources, reduce
consumption and pollution, doing all those environmentally correct
things that we know are ethically responsible, yet we're playing
a losing hand if we fail to tackle the population issue.
If we could but reduce the population, we wouldn't need technology
to solve our conundrums for us. We could keep our technologies, as
damaging as they might be, if only we reduced our numbers to a level
that recognized the carrying capacity of the environment for human
beings and their industrial culture. As scientist Al Bartlett has
often asked, is there a single environmental problem that wouldn't
be that much closer to solution if human numbers were reduced?
Same thing goes for the canyon country. There's just too many dad-blamed
homo sapiens littering the landscape! If this opinion makes me a
misanthrope, sign me,
Evan Cantor
Boulder, CO
REMEMBERING THE GOOD OLD DAYS
Jim Stiles-
Just received the April/May edition of the Zephyr and experienced
a sudden attack of nostalgia for Moab and the high desert country.
My late in-laws, Ray and Ethel Scovil, were long time denizens of
the area years ago. They owned the Porcupine Ranch. (Don’’t
know what it’’s called now.) To get there you crossed
the river and just before you came into town you took a hard left.
You hugged the river for what seemed like forever on a washboard
road. Eventually you climbed over a bluff and gazed down into Castle
Valley. From that point it was just a few miles through that valley
of majestic red rock formations to an old cottonwood tree. It marked
the way over an impossible rutted road through National Forest land
to a magical little haven we called "the ranch".
Ray Scovil died in Moab in 1972. It was the last time my wife, Sylvia, and
I were ever there. We keep promising ourselves that one day we will come back
and maybe even visit the old ranch but, we just haven't made it yet. From time
to time Sam and Adrien Taylor of the Times Independent were so very kind in
sending us a copy of their paper so that we wouldn't lose touch. It did help
to preserve memories of Moab, the fantastic countryside and, of course, some
of Ray and Ethel's friends. As you may know Ray provided some of the local
color back in the daysof the "uranium boom". Among his ventures he
included a small restaurant then called "The Red Door". It was situated
in an alley off the main drag. I’’m not sure the alley ever had
a name. He was both "chef" as well as the local Justice Of The Peace.
I remember those precious moments for laughter at someone else’’s
expense when Ray was forced to "hold court"in his kitchen. He would
be standing in front of a huge tome (the court docket) while busily broiling
steaks and fries on the side. He’‘d have a highway cop standing
beside him while a totally bewildered driver who’d been cited for speeding
would be standing in front of them. I kept thinking, "only in Moab!".
One summer John Wayne happened to be filming there and was having dinner at "The
Red Door" when a highway cop brought some poor guy he'd cited in for a
hearing and sentencing. Ray whipped off his kitchen apron, opened his docket
and fined the guy- all in about the time it takes to tell this story. Wayne
was so impressed with this example of "frontier justice" that he
and Ray became good friends thereafter.
Ah well! I can go on and on! Just wanted to say thanks for the copy
of the Zephyr. We still do think of Moab and the role it played in
our lives. Best of luck!
Sal and Sylvia Tedesco
THANK YOU JENNIFER SPEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dear Jim, I was at Main Street Bagels in Grand Junction and grabbed
a copy of The Canyon Country Zephyr to read with my coffee. I read
your "Take It or Leave It" column and enjoyed the recap
of your 15 years publishing the Zephyr. Your "Top 10 High Points" were
an interesting and amusing commentary of how Moab and the environmental
battles have changed over the years. My husband and I first encountered
Moab during the summer of 1970 when it was the nearest "civilization" to
a field camp we were living in at Circle Cliffs, four hours away
(Hanksville was closer to us, but was not civilized at all - although
it was very interesting.). That summer the Redrock Country burned
itself into our very souls, so when we retired in 1996 we chose to
be near it in Grand Junction. That brings me to Jennifer Speers.
Several years ago my husband and I were driving to Moab on Utah 128,
one of the prettiest drives in the country, when we happened upon
the abomination of development at Dewey Bridge. We were stunned that
expensive homes were going to be plopped into this very scenic and
historic valley. Once the first house was erected we felt all was
lost. We just didn't know what to do and assumed that people in Utah
had either not attempted to stop the development or had lost the
battle.
When I read #10 in your list of "Top 10 High Points" I
could hardly believe what Jennifer Speers had done. I had become
completely cynical that today's wealthy Americans would ever realize
their responsibilities to those of us who helped create their wealth
in the first place. In my book "weasel" is an excellent
term for people such as Ken Lay and his ilk. After all, how many
homes are necessary (he was reported to have 6)? He and other rich
weasels like him never seem to know when they have "enough".
So when I learned that Jennifer Speers had purchased all the lots
in the subdivision and had torn down the house that had been built,
I was ecstatic and astonished. To also buy the Proudfoot Bend Ranch
so cows rather than condos would be on the land was truly wonderful.
I look forward to driving down to Moab and seeing NOTHING on the
subdivision property.
If there is any way you can extend my thanks to this remarkable
woman I hope you will do so. She may be wealthy, but she is definitely
not a weasel. I hope her actions will be publicised widely as an
example of the sort of things other wealthy people should be doing.
Best Wishes for another interesting 15 years of publishing the Zephyr.
Sandra Hood
Grand Jct, CO