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Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Are trappers the new keystone predator?



Trappers get a bad rap.  If we learned anything from 101 Dalmatians, we know that killing cute, fuzzy animals to make coats is a bad thing.  Many environmentalists these days oppose any “tampering” with nature (including raiding the forests and trapping aforementioned cute animals). The danger with this logic derives from the fact that the Adirondack’s ecosystem has already been sufficiently tampered with to the extent that it cannot control itself.  The Adirondacks have lost their keystone predators.

During the colonization of the Adirondacks, the traditional European land ethic encouraged subjugating the wilderness, giving the settlers carte blanche to dispose of any less than desirable aspects of their new home.  This included killing predators such as mountain lions and wolves, keystone predators that kept the natural order by maintaining populations of smaller mammals such as beaver and deer.  In fact, the meager town budgets of the initial settlements funded two projects: constructing roads and paying bounties on the heads of the predators.

In that day and age, trapping for most people was an essential source of income to supplement their less than sufficient harvests.  Famous trappers were even lauded for their outlandish accomplishments, representing the reliance on and respect for trapping.  The days plenty did not last, and even with the keystone predators gone, people hunted the Adirondacks out of game.

In the last hundred years, however, with the founding of the park and decline in trapping as a profession, the small mammal populations (most notoriously the beaver) have been making a comeback—too much of a comeback.  With secondary growth in abandoned agricultural fields, deer populations are exploding, munching up a good portion of the understory.  A rise in beaver populations, too, has seen detrimental effects on the environment as they completely reroute streams, in extreme cases forcing them into an entirely new watershed.

Trappers today, therefore, play a crucial role in maintaining small mammal populations as they grow unchecked.  The State of New York recognizes trappers’ ecological importance in the Adirondacks.  It also realizes that selling native pelts to China does not bode well with the general American public, so they are taking steps to improve the image of the trappers.

The fact remains that without the existence of a keystone predator, an ecosystem will collapse from overconsumption of resources by exploding populations at the bottom of the food chain.  Some argue for the reintroduction of wolves into the park, but this suggestion meets fierce resistance from not only the trappers, but also hunters and natives to the park.  Conservationist movements within the park have never succeeded without the support of these groups.  Thus, we are faced with a difficult choice: do we allow trappers to act as a keystone species, or do we attempt to restore the pre-colonial Adirondack ecosystem by reintroducing predators?  If the former, what happens when fashion trends shift and furs no longer provide a viable income or incentive for the trappers?

All ecosystems need a keystone predator.  Do we trust ourselves to perform such crucial functions within an ecosystem?  Is such micromanagement sustainable?

Source: The Adirondacks: a History of America's First Wilderness, by Paul Schneider.

The Stance on Hunting

Back in the first half of the 19th century, residents of upstate New York lauded the professions of trapping and hunting because of the threat animals posed to human and livestock safety. According to Schneider, “the government in Albany considered it in the interest of all the residents of New York to eliminate the top (nonhuman) predators from the remaining wilderness” (82). Hunting was a lucrative profession at this time, because hunters could ask the local government for payment when they brought in large game, like bears and wolves. In addition to men who claimed hunting as their profession, the sport was also one of the most common sources of meat for families living in the Adirondacks.
Regulation of hunting in the Adirondacks did not begin until 1885; hunters were required to have a license for the first time (called a “tag”) and there were laws on which game you could hunt and when. The organization that regulated the laws was the Forest Preserve Advisory Board, which is now the DEC (Department of Environmental Conservation).
The DEC website has charts of fishing licenses, hunting licenses, trapping licenses, and big game licenses per year since 2008. The number of licenses sold to individuals in New York is declining each year.
In the 1800s, not many people considered how we were impacting the ecosystem with the removal of so many animals. No one felt guilty for killing animals for their fur or meat. Schneider has a great comment about hunting on page 83 when he says, “the debate… was more often about manliness than environmental responsibility or humanitarian concern”. Society has different morals today than it did in the 1800s. It seems like the morals shifted between the first and second half of the 1800s themselves, with the creation of hunting laws. Today hunting seems to go against the conscience of many Americans, as reflected by the decline in registered hunters.

This picture is from the DEC hunting gallery on their website. The woman had just shot her first deer and she was accompanied by her husband (2013).
Although many people still enjoy the sport of hunting, its popularity is declining, which is going to impact the populations of game in the Adirondacks. Hopefully, if hunting declines at this rate, the ecosystem will balance itself out in the next few decades, but I have a feeling we humans won’t be able to resist interfering with the population of wild animals.

Sources: The Adirondacks  by Paul Schneider, The Adirondack Museum website: http://www.adkmuseum.org/about_us/adirondack_journal/?id=269, the DEC website: http://www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/hunting.html



Ties Between the Interior and Exterior


As I read Bill McKibben’s foreword of The Adirondack Atlas, a particular statement caught my attention; one which mentioned that the interior of the park is economically and geographically tied to the exterior of the park. This piece of information made me think about the interconnectedness of those who live inside and outside of the park. Today we can easily travel to a national or state park and treat these areas as vacation spots; places that we like to think are remote and separated from the outside world which we are trying to escape. We can easily find somewhere to buy food and stay overnight in a close vicinity, features which we never doubt will be there because we are used to quick and easy access in today’s society. However, keeping in mind Bill McKibben’s statement as I read Phillip Terrie’s Contested Terrain, I could easily see how accurate this idea was during the early days of settlement in this wilderness.

When settlers first moved into the Adirondacks, many believed that a society of agrarian farmers would eventually develop and allow them to be self-sustaining. After many determined attempts to cultivate the land, many settler’s eventually moved on to new locations, or accepted that they would have to learn new skills to survive. Even at this earlier state of the park’s development, settler’s realized that it was very hard to be self-sufficient in the Adirondacks; the interior needed to be tied to the exterior. 

As the park has continued to develop, this idea of interconnectedness has become even more relevant. Tourism has slowly replaced earlier sources of income such as trapping, farming and mining. Lodges opened and recreational sports guides became more popular. Although these vacation spots seem to be removed from the rest of the world, they are entirely dependent on the outside world. Without tourists there would not be as many lodges, guides, and restaurants. As a result there would also be less interest in preserving a park that our society does not feel personally tied to. Although we may like to romanticize the Adirondacks as an isolated wilderness, we cannot ignore the dependence this park has on the outside world. As tourism increases is this dependence actually more detrimental than helpful to the park? Perhaps a balance of interests is the only solution to this debate.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Hudson River School: A Glance Into a Mindset


        In reading Philip G. Terrie's Contested Terrain, I came across a mention of the Hudson River School, a topic I had learned about as sophomore in high school. I was in a class called American Studies, which drew on forms of art in the United States (paintings, film, writing, etc.) to reflect the ideas, trends, and conflicts of the time. The Hudson River School was among some of the first topics covered in the course and one that stuck with me for some reason or another. A smaller version of Thomas Cole's The Oxbow (shown below) hung in a classroom where I frequently had English classes. It was my hope that I would revisit the topic in this course and suddenly the Hudson River School is more relevant than I could have imagined.  


        Hudson River School paintings portray an awe-inspiring nature, often using humans and their creations (i.e. cities) as points of comparison. Searching 'Hudson River School' on Google Images quickly relays this idea. A typical painting might show mountains rising in the distance with human in the foreground absolutely dwarfed and made powerless by the surrounding landscape. In the painting above, Cole paints himself in and, if you can see him (bottom, center), he appears minuscule and insignificant in the context of the scene.
        I took a quick look at The Oxbow and Hudson River School articles on Wikipedia to remind myself of the topics. The overview section at the top of The Oxbow page mentioned that "It has been interpreted as a confrontation between wilderness and civilization, " which triggered really strong connections to our classes thus far. The Hudson River School illustrates nature as a dominating power, one which ultimately wins out. This is particularly shown in paintings where destroyed cities (for whatever reason) are enveloped by greenery.  While the sense of awe remains today when we hike up a mountain, the fear, for many, seems to have diminished. People are no longer driven away by the myths and mysteries of the mountains. The idea of a struggle between man and nature is still very really, but has taken a different context. As we discuss this context further, I hope to utilize the Hudson River School as a point of comparison for the ideas and realities of each respective time. 

Note: The Oxbow is actually a painting of the Connecticut River Valley - I used it as an example, because of personal relevance. The Hudson River School drew inspiration from the Hudson River Valley and the surrounding areas, including the Adirondacks.

Sources Consulted:
Contested Terrain, Philip G. Terrie
Wikipedia - The Oxbow
Google Images - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b1/Cole_Thomas_The_Oxbow_(The_Connecticut_River_near_Northampton_1836).jpg

Forever Wild... or Temporarily Different?

After reading Bill McKibben’s Wandering Home, there was one quote that, for me, embodied the importance of studying the Adirondacks.  McKibben states, “’Forever wild,’ as the New York constitution puts it, even if ‘wild’ means a little less than it used to, and if ‘forever’ seems somewhat shorter” (McKibben, 104).  The term “forever wild,” both a commonly used term in Adirondack readings, and the namesake for this blog, comes from Article 14 of the New York State Constitution, which states, “The lands of the state, now owned or hereafter acquired, constituting the forest preserve as now fixed by law, shall be forever kept as wild forest lands.”

McKibben’s aforementioned statement alludes to a struggle that both he and many other Adirondack authors have attempted to answer, which made me begin to wonder: what exactly does it mean to be “forever wild”?  Can it have the same meaning since it was enacted 120 years ago?  As both McKibben and many of the other authors have explained, and I have come to realize, this question is anything but simple.  Jerry Jenkins, author of The Adirondack Atlas provides an insight into one of the major complexities regarding this question.  Jenkins states, “...the park now has three constituencies - those who see it as a home, as a playground, and as a wilderness - and each has a vision of the future that to some extent threatens and excludes the others” (Jenkins, 2).  Jenkins’ example addresses McKibben’s question of how long this ambiguous “forever” will last, as proclaimed by the New York State Constitution.

Even though Jenkins and McKibben suggest, through these two quotes, a more pessimistic opinion on what “forever” might mean, there is no real clarity for what it means to be “wild.”  However, I think that this ambiguity is fitting, not only for the law, but also for students, visitors, and residents of the Adirondack Park.  On my Pre-Orientation trip in the Adirondacks, I went canoeing on the St. Regis Lake.  This trip was my first time to the Adirondacks.  On our first day of paddling, it dawned on me that there was something intrinsically different about this place.  I cannot specify exactly what this “difference” is, as I was only there for four days, though even in that time, I was able to identify the uniqueness of the park, which McKibben along with so many others to write, revisit, and love this special park.

I am excited to delve deeper into these concepts throughout this semester, and hope that by the end of the semester, I will have formulated my own opinion of what it means to be “forever wild,” and to identify what exactly is so enchanting about this park.


Sources:

New York State Constitution Article 14: http://www.dec.ny.gov/lands/55849.html

McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk across America's Most Hopeful Landscape. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 2014. 104. Print.


Jenkins, Jerry, and Andy Keal. The Adirondack Atlas: A Geographic Portrait of the Adirondack Park. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse UP, 2004. 2. Print.