The Evolving Relationship of Man and Nature in the Adirondacks

The relationship between man and nature is not constant and is always in flux. I saw this changing dynamic especially exemplified in the Adirondacks. Although white settlers only arrived in large numbers less than 500 years ago, the public opinion on the park has changed drastically during this time. I found it interesting that in each century people viewed the Adirondack differently than the last and that how we, as a society, view the wilderness is subject to change. This change gives me hope for both the future of the Adirondacks and the health of our planet as well. In many ways, I saw what happened in the Adirondacks as a model for the rest of America to follow, to bring us, once more, in touch with nature.


Paul Schneider notes how peoples views have changed in his book The Adirondacks: A History of America's First Wilderness. He writes that during its early history, the Adirondacks were mostly ignored by white settlers in colonial times because lands were more fertile in the surrounding lowlands. Even the Indians left the Adirondacks mostly devoid of people and although they trapped in the area they lived mostly in the valleys rather than the mountains. Later with the expansion of the fur trade, trappers began to move into the region and saw potential to exploit its richness of pelts. As speculation began in the area after the Revolutionary war, people bought large tracts of land in the park from the state of New York and people began to settle in the area. Following the early settlement came a period of larger scale exploitation of the Adirondack's natural resources, which were seen as virtually limitless. However, they weren't and the environmental impact became very visible in certain areas as loggers, miners and settlers cut down virgin forest and set up the machines of industry.


Today, the Adirondacks are still exploited for their natural resources. People still live, mine and log in the park; however, the opinion of the park has changed and many of the areas where human impact were present are starting to revert back to wilderness. People see the park in two ways now, both as a resource to be exploited and as something that is valuable to preserve. This duality reflects a fundamental shift in the way man relates to nature and offers a hopeful solution to follow in the future.


Works Cited:
Scheider, Paul. The Adirondacks: A History of America's First Wilderness. New York: H. Holt, 1998. Print. 

Ode to the Natives

In Bill McKibben’s Wandering Home, he speaks longingly of a society that’s able to exist in a mutually beneficial relationship with the land rather than the parasitic one our current society participates in today. His prospective tone reveals that he imagines this society as yet to arrive. In that sense, it’s clear he views this potential future relationship as a positive progression. Perhaps then, the boon of ‘progress’ the Adirondacks experienced at the hands of European settlers, while deemed ‘progress,’ may not have necessarily been positive. As McKibben looks forward to the formation of this coexisting society, we should all look backwards for the inspiration.

Native Americans throughout North America operated with knowledge of the potential hazards of our current parasitism. Their notion of their people’s collective involvement in ‘The Great Long House’ illuminates a key distinction in approach to the earth’s resources between mutualism and parasitism. Because they viewed themselves as inhabitants within the ecosystem rather than apart from it, they recognized that they were not impervious to the consequences of abuse. The European approach stands directly opposite and positions mankind as only part-time visitors in the wilderness. This perceived temporary involvement in the ecosystem led to a dynamic in which the wilderness existed only to provide resources. After these resources were harvested, Europeans left the wilderness to return home, or at least thought of it that way. In reality, there really is but one ‘Great Long House’ and no one lives outside of it. These dueling approaches to nature explain the Native’s sustainable hunting and farming practices as well as the European method of plunder.

Upon realizing the wisdom of the Native lifestyle, their eradication stands as an egregious error in development. If McKibben is right in believing that mutualism is the true example of progress then perhaps the wrong way of life won. The irony becomes apparent when it is said that the Europeans brought along progress and catapulted society forward. It may be justified when we feel a sense of stupidity upon realizing that those ‘savages’ had it figured out all along.

Works Cited:

McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk Across America’s Most Hopeful Landscape. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2005. Print.

Scheider, Paul. The Adirondacks: A History of America's First Wilderness. New York: H. Holt, 1998. Print. 

Industry Has Won. So Far.

           In Terrie’s Contested Terrain, the quote that most impacts me comes early in the book:

Developing in Europe during the last decades of the eighteenth century and responding to the wrenching cultural, social, and environmental changes effected by industrialization, romanticism found modern (especially urban) life to be inherently stressful, corrupting, debilitating, and spiritually enervating. The antidote to these widely perceived evils of modernity was a retreat to nature. Where the modern city seemed a pit of iniquity and woe, nature was a fount of divine virtue and regenerative power. (Terrie, 8)

When I read this excerpt, I was quite alarmed. Broadly speaking, the Industrial Revolution was during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Terrie mentions that the anti-industrial sentiment to which he refers in this passage was already prevalent during the “last decades of the eighteenth century.” I was shocked when I thought about the timeline associated with this statement, as it indicates that much of the Industrial Revolution occurred during a time when people viewed industrialization and modernity negatively. In fact, due to Terrie’s mention of modernity’s status as a “widely perceived evil,” it would naturally follow that modernization would not continue to occur. However, industrialization and modernization obviously did continue, and at a staggering rate no less.

            How exactly then, can people in this day and age be expected to protect the environment when previous generations elected to do just the opposite at such a crucial point in history, despite their desire to experience nature? How can our generation hope to be environmentally friendly when urban areas are often not seen as evil, but rather as birthplaces of opportunity? Before reading the aforementioned excerpt in Contested Terrain, I assumed that nature was undervalued during the time of the Industrial Revolution, and it was simply ignorance that allowed people to make decisions that degraded the planet to such a great extent. I thought that because people today understand the importance of protecting the Earth, we would have a chance at changing the course of history, and we would be able to start an environmental revolution simply because we are passionate and better informed. However, the fact that the Industrial Revolution occurred during a time when nature was valued so highly completely undermines my understanding of environmental history and the present state of environmentalism.

            I still do hope and believe that this generation can make a significant change in the way our world operates in order to protect the environment. I maintain hope that this will happen simply because it must in order to keep our planet habitable. We live in a starkly different world than the one in which the Adirondacks were discovered. Our world is degraded and on a path to becoming an inhospitable wasteland if changes are not made in the way humans live. I do believe that this generation will make significant progress in the realm of environmental protection, but after reading parts of Contested Terrain, I now feel that necessity will be the main driver of progress as opposed to good intentions. Nonetheless, progress is progress, and I hope to be a part of the environmental revolution that I am sure will soon be in full force.

Citations:

Terrie, Philip G. Contested Terrain: A New History of Nature and People in the Adirondacks. Blue Mountain Lake, NY: Adirondack Museum, 1997. Print.

Hyper-individualism

In Wandering Home, Bill McKibben discusses his great dislike for a giant house that overlooks his town. He says, “As I walk, my eye keeps returning to a hilltop overlooking the town, where some outlander has cleared a patch and then, as if from a spaceship, plunked down a “home” huge enough to be a junior high school” (McKibben 21). McKibben says that when he thinks about this unnecessarily large house he can feel himself “starting to heat up from the inside” (21). This immediately reminded me of an issue in my town over this past summer that ignited a very similar response in my community.

In my hometown—Cohasset, MA—there’s an area called James’ Island that’s right on the water. The land is actually more of a peninsula than an island, and it juts into what is called Little Harbor, one of the most desirable places to live. For years it was just a wooded area—not exactly conservation land, but thought to be unbuildable—therefore leaving no reason for the town to buy it to protect it. However, over the summer a family bought the land and made plans to build a five bedroom 7,823-square-foot mansion on the seven-acre lot. The blueprints of the house sparked an outrage from the neighbors and a lot of my town, leading the community to make a Facebook page titled “Save James Island” in protest. My town really came together over the issue, bringing widespread attention and creating town meetings to discuss it. One neighbor said in an interview that, “This new mega mansion home site will destroy beautiful wetlands, beautiful trees, a bird sanctuary, and a wildlife sanctuary…Little Harbor’s eco-culture will be completely destroyed forever” (Seltz). The objections focused on the ecological damage the house could cause and allegations that the design of the house would not meet conservation standards.

People are often driven by their own interests, not stopping to think about the effects their actions can have on others. McKibben says that it’s this “hyper-individualism that thinks nothing of ruining everyone else’s view with a house four times too large for any conceivable purpose” (McKibben 21). The family in my town was not thinking of the effects their ‘dream’ home would have on the surrounding community. They planned to build the three-story mansion on the high point of the island, ruining the view of the harbor for all surrounding houses. One neighbor complained that it would be “the equivalent of a seven-story Taj Mahal for 20 families to look at for the rest of their lives” (Seltz). It would have been less of an outrage if the family had been more considerate of the neighbors and environment by building their incredibly large dream house somewhere else, or at least on another part of the property where it would have fewer effects. 

On September 4^th, my town held the final meeting about the issue. Cohasset voted to decline the family’s plans of construction. So at least for now James’ Island is saved from the “hyper-individualism” that is so prevalent today.

Citations:

McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk across America's Most Hopeful Landscape,    Vermont's Champlain Valley and New York's Adirondacks. New York: Crown Journeys, 2005. Print.

Seltz, Johanna. "Cohasset Family’s Plan to Build ‘dream Home’." BostonGlobe.com. Boston Globe, 7 Aug. 2015. Web. 10 Sept. 2015.             <https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/regionals/south/2015/08/07/cohasset-  family-plan-build-dream-home-runs-against-neighbors-view/VjgDK4wTjX8PHwzA7duOwO/story.html>.

Hello to CSAs

While Paul Schneider’s book The Adirondacks: A History of America’s First Wilderness  presents a pessimistic view about farming in the Adirondacks with one of its chapters titled “Farewell to Farms," Essex Farm proves successful farming in the Adirondacks is still possible.  Last semester at Hamilton, the owners of Essex farm, Mark and Kristin Kimball, talked about their unique farming methods (which includes the use of eight draft horses).  The Kimballs adopted a “triple bottom line” view on sustainability.  They argue that in order for a farm to be successful, it must be sustainable on three different fronts: economically, socially, and environmentally.  Economic sustainability refers to the money going into and out of the farm - in other words, turning a profit.  Social sustainability involves maintaining healthy relationships with those living in the community around the farm. The final element of “the triple bottom line,” environmental sustainability, is incredibly difficult to achieve.  The assurance that land, air, and water are not damaged during the farming process is something that sets the Kimball's farm apart from most.  They do not use pesticides, herbicides, or synthetic fertilizer. Additionally, they stray away from the use of machines powered by fossil fuels, instead powering their farm with only three tractors, ten full-time farmers, solar panels, and draft horses. Although some may see their methods of farming as “antiquated” or “unrealistic,” Essex is able to provide a full diet year round to over 300 people! 

Fascinated and inspired by their talk, I decided to read Kristin’s book The Dirty Life. (Which is amazing. 10/10. Would recommend.)  Importance of community is a theme that is interwoven throughout the book.  Neighbors helped the Kimball’s vision of the farm come to fruition by offering advice, tools, and, quite literally, a helping hand.  Without community, the farm would probably not even exist, as it is a CSA.  CSA, or community supported agriculture, operates in a way that allows the consumer to buy fresh, local food directly from the farmer. The customer pays a fee upfront, and for the entirety of the year, they can collect their share of locally grown, organic food weekly. This system allots farmers the necessary capital at the beginning of the year, while allowing consumers access to fresh, local food.

Essex Farm truly embodies the idea of sustainability, and it is my hope that they are pioneers and not just an anomaly.

Works Cited:
Essex Farm CSA. Essex Farm CSA. 2015. Web. 9 September 2015. http://www.essexfarmcsa.com/

Kimball, Kristin. The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love. 1st Scribner trade pbk. ed. New York: Scribner, 2011.

Vermonter Gaining New Perspective

            Growing up on the right side of the lake in the Champlain Valley of Vermont I never developed an appreciation for the Adirondacks that one might expect.  As someone who has an appreciation for the outdoors, enjoyed skiing in the winter, and hiking in the summertime it surprises me that one of the country’s largest national parks never jumped out as a place to explore.  Although I had often traveled through or around the Adirondacks they always failed to be anything more than a good view to look at from across the Lake. 

            My interest was sparked in my first companionless drive from my home in the Northwest corner of Vermont down to the vast abyss that is central New York.  By entering Hamilton’s address in to my GPS I am given three route options to take.  I made the easy choice of choosing the shortest route unknowing at the time of the wilderness I was about to encounter.  In a time when almost everybody’s cell phone seems to be there life line I would be lying if I didn’t notice my loss of cell reception for the extent of my 2-3 hour trip through the park.  Falling in to at least one of Bill Mckibben’s stereotypes of Vermonters being “Saab-driving, goat-cheese-eating Democrats” (18) I was worried that my old car would leave me stranded in the high peaks area with no reception to call for a tow.

            I’ve since gotten past the uneasy feeling of not having the phone a friend option and have grown to enjoy my trip of solitude through the park.  Although my route takes me a different way each time as I follow the little blue line on my GPS I find myself becoming familiar with few of the landmarks I seem to always pass over.  There are also times I need to look down at my phone and make sure it’s still navigating as I find myself on a road that I have never been on before. 

            Reading Mckibben’s experience of hiking from Mt. Abraham across the Lake in to the Adirondacks I can understand what he is saying when he mentions the difference of visiting a place by foot and by car.  For me, until somewhat recently I have made the trek in haste, anxious to get to school and get out of the car.  By doing this I was unable to truly visit with the park and enjoy what it has to offer.   Going forward I plan to build time in to my trips and take further detours in to the wilderness.  Because a hike from home to Hamilton is out of the question, a leisurely drive will have to due for now.

            Since arriving in New York I have been able to gain a new perspective on the Adirondacks.  The mountains have become more than the cool back drop that we watch the sun fall behind from the shores of Vermont.  I look forward to learning more about the culture and the history of this region which will make my trips between school and home that much more meaningful.  It is surprising to me that so many people take the national treasure that is the Adirondack Park for granted although I myself was guilty of just that.

View of the Adirondacks from Burlington, VT

Photo Source: http://runawayjuno.com/runaway-specials/runaway-to-sisters-city/runaway-to-sister%E2%80%99s-city-burlington-vermont-by-gray-cargill/

Works Cited:
McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk Across America’s Most Hopeful Landscape. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2005. Print.

Farming in the Adirondacks

One message I thought McKibben and Schneider made clear in their works was that it is hard to farm in the Adirondacks. Short growing seasons, and poor soil make only about 10 percent of land in the park farmable. Schneider dedicates a whole chapter (Farewell to Farms) to listing all the farms that have failed in just one town; a glimpse into the hardship of trying to live off the land. McKibben's hike meanders through long forgotten orchards and decaying foundations of farms that attempted to survive in the harsh climate of the park. The overall theme was that many tried but most failed at trying to cultivate the land in the Adirondacks. Most farmers in the park found they had no other option but to move out of the Adirondacks and try again somewhere else. 

After this notion was discussed at length both in the books and in class, imagine my surprise when I saw a whole section devoted to food in the Adirondack Almanack. Surely someone forgot to tell these food contributors that farming in the Adirondacks is rarely successful? Curious, I went to explore this section of the blog, and to be honest I did not expect to find much. I was pleasantly surprised to see numerous posts. 

Amy Ivy, a Regional Vegetable and Berry Specialist for the Cornell Cooperative Extensions and the Eastern New York Commercial Horticulture Program, writes a post every month. Her posts range from tips on deadheading for local gardening enthusiasts to how to keep blights that could kill a vegetable crop from spreading. There are also not one, but two posts on how to harvest cattails. A plant I never would have consider edible is in fact a reliable source for carbohydrates and protein. You can eat the roots, young shoots, or the thick 'cattail' part of the plant. It can be boiled, baked, or (the roots) can be dried and ground to be used as a flour substitute. Apparently, boiled cattail with butter tastes like corn on the cob. Who would have known? There is no shortage on articles about food in the Almanack.

The tone about food on the Adirondack Almanack is much different than what we have been reading about. It is hopeful, confident, and resourceful. Contributors to the Almanack not only see possibilities within the park but have learned from past farmers. Farming in the Adirondacks is not big-scale farming that we see elsewhere in the US (and that was once tried in the park). Farmers in the Adirondacks run small scale operations but they are making the most out of what they have. For some this means learning all the uses of a cattail plant. Others have taken advantage of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) which lets locals purchase a share of a farm's crop, and every week they are supplied with whatever is being grown. This not only helps farmers distribute their crops locally, but it also helps get the community involved. 

Farming in the Adirondacks is evolving. It is still hard but not impossible. People are still trying. I think this speaks to McKibben's remarks that people who live in this part of the country are among some of the most resilient. They will always keep trying to find a way to make a living. 



Works Cited:

Chase, Diane. "A Bountiful Adirondack Harvest With A Local CSA" Adirondack Almanack Accessed: Sept 9th 2015. http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2015/08/bountiful-adirondack-harvest-local-csa.html

Hetzler, Paul. "Cattails: A Culinary Tale of Nine Lives" Adirondack Almanack Accessed: Sept 9th 2015. http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2015/07/cattails-culinary-tale-nine-lives.html

Ivy, Amy. "Amy Ivy: August in the Garden" Adirondack Almanack Accessed: Sept 9th 2015.http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2015/08/amy-ivy-august-garden.html

McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk Across America’s Most Hopeful Landscape. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2005. Print.

Scheider, Paul. The Adirondacks: A History of America's First Wilderness. New York: H. Holt, 1998. Print. 

Relating to McKibben

This past weekend (and every summer for the past twenty years of my life) I visited my Grandmother’s house on the St. Lawrence River. While the St. Lawrence River is technically outside of the boundaries of the Adirondack region, I still feel that many of my experiences at the river are similar to McKibben’s experiences in the Adirondacks, as we both have very special relationships with these places. 

In the opening pages of his book Wandering Home, McKibben relays his experience seeing the view from the top of a peak on the first evening of his hike, “All at once it struck me, struck me hard, that this was one of those few scenes I would replay in my head when I someday lay dying” (14). While I have never seen a seven layer rainbow, I feel like I completely understand McKibben’s statement. Whether it is waking up to a perfectly calm morning, feeling the wind whip my hair on a boat ride, or having a massive thunderstorm quickly clear to reveal a stunning sunset – the sights I have seen at the river truly seem like they are from another world. In fact, whenever anyone arrives at the river, my Nana greets them with her signature line, “Welcome to paradise!” While to some, paradise may be found in the exotic lands of Hawaii and other tropical islands, to me, paradise is the simplicity and beauty found at the river. 

Sunset view from the boathouse

I appreciate the simplicity of life at the river, and it really is a “kingdom of my memories” (148). While McKibben remembers the place where he and his daughter encountered a bear, I remember the rock where my sister slipped on my birthday and sliced her knee open – she still has a large scar today. I remember rowing to a nearby island with my cousin when I was ten years old and getting stuck in a strong wind – my uncle had to come rescue us and towed us back behind his boat. And I remember almost getting my hair seared off after a grease fire lit on our old fashioned wood fired griddle during a cookout breakfast. Even the little things that have happened to me at the river mean so much just because of what a special place it is. 

However, similarly to McKibben, the changes that happen to our “paradise” can be difficult to grasp. A few years ago, a family bought the island across from us and built a new road and bridge to connect his island to land, as well as a large boathouse right on the point of the island, right in the middle of our view of the sunset. Like McKibben, we questioned, “the hyperindividualism that thinks nothing of ruining everyone else’s view” (21). Luckily for us, the boathouse did not turn out to be as bad as we had imagined, and while the bridge is quite large, we have adapted to its presence. However, I can’t help but imagine another scenario that could have turned out like McKibben’s with their new constructions ruining the view for everyone. 

The Bridge that didn't turn out to be so bad after all

I love the river for its beauty, history, and its community, the same way that McKibben values the Adirondacks for these same reasons. I hope that it never changes because I want my children and grandchildren to be able to experience the same joy and love that the river has brought and will continue to bring me over the years.

This is still the original boathouse from 1912

All Photos are my own

Works Cited:
McKibben, Bill. Wandering Home: A Long Walk Across America’s Most Hopeful Landscape. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2005. Print.

Effect of the 1980 Winter Olympics

In 1980, Lake Placid hosted the XII Winter Olympic Games. Although the Games may best be known for the U.S. Men’s Hockey team’s stunning upset of the Soviet squad (and eventual capture of the Gold medal), the Games significantly affected the Adirondacks in general, and the High Peaks region specifically. The Games had an enormous economic, environmental, and cultural impact on the region, effects that began as soon as the International Olympic Committee announced that the United States – and Lake Placid – had won the rights to host the 1980 Winter Olympiad.

As soon as the announcement was made, lodging, restaurant, and other hospitality businesses bought land and built new facilities and upgraded old ones to accommodate the expected influx of spectators. This dramatically drove up real estate prices, increased employment and wages, and sparked an economy that usually does not see much tourism in the dead of winter. For example, employees were hired to build the arenas, staff events, provide security, and maintain the both the Olympic venues and hotels and restaurants. Further spurring economic development, the United States Olympic Committee decided to build a permanent Winter Training Center by the lake (in large part because of the success of the 1980 Games). Although the 1980 Games certainly helped the regional economy immediately, the media’s coverage of both the Games and the state of the art facilities that were built to host them (and to lodge and feed both athletes and spectators) have enabled the region to remain prosperous in the 35 years since the Games ended. The widespread television coverage of the 1980’s Games showed Lake Placid’s beauty to the much of the nation while the added facilitates have provided athletes (Olympic, professional, and amateur) with areas to practice their skills and to compete in regularly scheduled events. As a result tourism has almost doubled in the region since the Games occurred.

Nevertheless, despite all the economic benefits that the Games brought (and continue to bring), these benefits did not come without negative social, cultural, and environmental costs as the Games led to a tremendous increase in the human activity in the largest publically protected area in the U.S. The added tourism has disrupted a quiet region, and increased traffic, congestion, and pollution of the air and water. Protected land has been converted into arenas and resorts, creating a miniature metropolis out of what used to be a small town. The negative consequences of that human activity continue to show the ever-long struggle between economic gains and environmental degradation, creating an outcome that is still debated.

In the final analysis, some people believe the Games were as much a curse on the region’s character as they were a cure for the region’s pre-existing economic woes. As a singer of the period once lamented above mankind’s ability to disrupt and degrade the things we claim to cherish most: “they paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”

Reilly, Kimberly. "The Olympics' Impact on Lake Placid." Adiorndack Almanack 
     (2014): n. pag. Print.

The Livestock Guardian Dog: A Tool for Conservation

    Livestock guardian dogs have been used by humans for thousands of years, all across the globe. In Turkey there is the Akbash, in Portugal the Estrella Mountain Dog, in France and Spain the Great Pyrenees, and so on. Each group of farmers and herders has a certain breed of dog that has developed with their lifestyle and these dogs live to protect the owners' livelihoods. However, livestock guardian dogs do more than protect the culture and occupation of the humans they work with. By chasing away or confronting wild predators that threaten the sheep (or goats, or cattle, etc.), the dogs protect the endangered predators from the guns and poison of the humans who sometimes would have no choice but to resort to violence.
     An example of this phenomenon at work is in the wide open steppes of Mongolia. Here the traditional dog is called the Bankhar, and unlike most livestock guardian dogs that have been selectively bred, the Bankhar is a "land race". This means that the dogs evolved with the landscape, environment, and humans, and thus are even more adapted to the ecosystem in which they work.

Livestock grazing on the Mongolian steppes

In Mongolia, 40% of the country's population are livestock herders leading a nomadic lifestyle in the grasslands, deserts, and hills of Mongolia. The sheep, goats, cows, or yaks that graze throughout the steppes represent the nomads' entire income (in the form of milk, wool, and meat). Harsh, merciless winters and brutal summers caused by global warming can sometimes cause a herder to lose his or her whole flock, which they cannot afford.
     These herders also share the steppes with predators such as the Mongolian Wolf (a grey wolf sometimes called the Tibetan Wolf) and the elusive Snow Leopard, another threat to the traditional herding lifestyle. These carnivores have taken to attacking herds of livestock because their usual prey, such as the gazelles that used to bound across the steppes in huge numbers, have been over hunted by humans. To protect their herds, Mongolians will often shoot wolves on sight or leave out poisoned bait that snow leopards will often die from. The mongolian wolves, a threatened species, as well as the endangered snow leopards, suffer just as much from the human-predator conflict they are caught up in.

Arslan means "lion" in Mongolian, a name that suits this Bankhar dog well

     A solution to this conflict, of course, are the afore mentioned Bankhar livestock guardian dogs, animals that live to scare off wolves and leopards and even the eagles and vultures that prey on lambs and kids. However, the average nomadic family earns three dollars a day, and cannot afford to buy these dogs from pricey breeders in the city. This is where a non-profit organization called The Mongolian Bankhar Dog Project (MBDP) comes in. This project, which I have been working with for the past year, has gathered strong, healthy Bankhar from around Mongolia and bred them to produce the ideal livestock guardian dogs, which are then trained at their facilities and are given away to Mongolians throughout the steppes. The project also is performing research at the same time as bringing dogs to families in need, and we have placed a couple puppies with the Snow Leopard Trust who are using them to see the most effective way of decreasing snow leopard-human conflict.
(To learn more about how to help The Mongolian Bankhar Dog Project, click here.)

One of the puppies just after he was given to his new family by the MBDP

A Bankhar dog protecting a lamb and a child

    In closing, though Mongolia is far far away from the Adirondacks, the same conflicts take place, and the same solutions are used to survive as herders and farmers in a wild environment. Livestock guardian dogs are at work in many farms throughout the Adirondack Park. While there are no longer any wolves in the park, coyotes, foxes, hawks, bobcats and other predators still threaten livestock, so dogs are very much needed in some areas. The farmers of Mace Chasm Farm in Keeseville, NY  for example have two Great Pyrenees dogs that protect their sheep, cows, pigs, and chickens. The dogs are a traditional, predator-friendly solution for farmers and herders from Keane Valley to the South Gobi Aimag, and plus, though livestock guardian dogs are working dogs, it doesn't mean they can't be one of your best friends at the same time.

Thank you for reading!

Photos by Soyolbolod Serguleng