Radical environmentalism

On page 75 in Wandering Home, McKibben discusses the radical environmental group Earth First ! that emerged in 1979.  He also describes how the group was launched on top of Glen Canyon Dam when they “unrolled a massive plastic crack down its face, symbolizing their hope that it would soon disappear.”  Personally, I think this demonstration was a great way (even though it was illegal) to protest the concrete plug in the dam – it got the message out in a clear, creative way, and no object or person was hurt.

Unfortunately, radical environmental groups like Earth First! do not always employ creative, nonviolent ways to get their messages out.  Often these groups practice eco-terrorism consisting of arson, equipment disabling, and tree spiking. I understand feeling passionate about something and wanting to protest and fight for what you believe in but I sometimes think about how radical environmentalism might be hurting the environment in many ways. For example, it is environmentally counterproductive to arson a factory in the name of Mother Nature because not only are you destroying usable materials and creating a lot of pollution but also because the company you are protesting against will most likely use up even more natural resources to rebuild whatever you have destroyed. Radical environmentalism definitely has its pros and cons; I am unsure which outweighs the other.

Who deserves a hike?

Today I did something that I have done many times before, but for the first time after reading the words of Bill McKibben; I climbed a mountain. Sleeping Giant, a mountain located in Hamden, Connecticut has about 30 miles of hiking trails and a breathtaking view of Quinnipiac University (if you know which trails to take). Walking up the trails on a Sunday it was a bit crowded, noisy even at some points which made me think about all the side comments Bill McKibben would have been making in his book had he been in my position. Even though we took the blue trail, which is considered the most difficult terrain, there always seemed to be another person within view or earshot. I love hiking and any outdoor activity really and this made me think if there had ever been a time I had done something without the company of others or the comfort of strangers out on a similar adventure in the way Bikk McKibben had. Thinking of his perspective on others made me angry while reading his book. He seemed so judgmental of anyone who didn’t live up to his standard of natural living. To me it seemed a little bit like he was trying to win a contest to be the most “natural” human being, or the most respectful of nature, whatever that means. I especially didn’t like how he judged people for the square footage of their homes, or people who inhabited the Adirondacks while he himself had double the square footage by owning two homes and also resided in the Adirondacks. I respect his dedication and knowledge but the feeling that he would judge my way of life as not natural enough to enjoy the Adirondacks and other parts of nature was something I found off putting in his writing.

One of the themes that continues to show up in Wandering Home is "hyperindividualism." McKibben describes it as an extreme selfishness which includes an inherent disregard for not only other people but the natural environment; McKibben also refers to hyperindividualism as being new or "of our time" (21). This made me think about selfishness and even broader about human nature. I found myself disagreeing with McKibben's concept that hyperindividualism is novel or unique to modern times. I argue that selfishness or hyperindividualism is something innate and inherent to human nature and man's will to survive. As such, I argue that hyperindividualism has persisted in mankind since the dawn of time, but what has changed in the last 50 years is the scale at which selfishness can be expressed. The scale can been seen early in Wandering Home when McKibben talks about the gigantic house that he passes in the quaint town of Lincoln that looks like it was dropped down by a "spaceship" (21). When you multiply this ability to flaunt one's selfishness at an unprecedented materialistic scale by the millions of people that live in a capitalist society based on continuous growth and an economy that can provide these people with the extravagant materials to flaunt themselves, you get a level of collective hyperindividualism that explains mankind's destruction of the natural world and of each other. In Wandering Home, McKibben is very critical of the destructive power of collective hyperindividualism and I like that about his writing.

Mirror Houses

In class we discussed so called "wild places", and the irony of protecting them. Protecting our wild places involves identifying them and spreading awareness and information on how to keep them wild. Often times, the romanticized talk about these pristine corners of our planet attracts visitors, who, longing to see the world in its purest form, ultimately degrade it little by little just by visiting. So what happens when people decide to build a house and stay for good? Is there a code, moral or otherwise, that everyone building should follow? How do we honor the hippies idea of a home while also allowing the wall street CEO to build to her heart's content? Lastly, what should be considered offensive or inappropriate? A rolling lawn? A house with three stories? While we call the Adirondacks wilderness, we still reside in them, which makes houses inevitable. Personally, after a strenuous hike, it wouldn't be my first choice to look out over the valley and the distant ranges to stand in awe of... a perfectly mowed lawn. Perhaps, some people disagree, and want nothing more than to see the way humans are able to conquer even wild land. I don't know the solution, I'm not even convinced that there is a way for humans to live in harmony with nature and with each other, seeing as we have already spent years expanding, glancing over conservation the first time round. We are now forced to reverse our learned habits in order to reach our goal of keeping wilderness wild.
Here's an idea:
http://www.today.com/home/see-these-mirrored-buildings-blend-their-surroundings-1D79970121

Super Marcy

A graduate of Hamilton was visiting this weekend, and she told me about a trip she led as a camp counselor this summer in the Adirondacks that reminded me a lot of Wandering Home. She "Super Marcy," which is a hike from Long Pond in Willsboro, NY, to the peak of Marcy. The hike is 76 miles and takes about 5 days. One of the reasons the camp organizes the hike is because it's the way hiking was traditionally done. 

Let me explain. Now, when we want to hike a mountain, we drive up to the bottom, park, get out, and hike it. This was not always the case. One used to have to hike many days before even attempting a mountain. We still see this occur in particularly remote places (think: Everest, the middle of nowhere Alaska, etc.), but, for the most part, you can get A LOT closer to the peak you want to conquer. And this has definitely changed hiking. People do not cover as much land on foot anymore, which is something we saw in Wandering Home.

This trip is an important tradition because it connects the campers to the land in a way they might not feel if they just drove into the High Peaks area. They are given the opportunity that McKibben had to see how the land changes. They saw Marcy grow closer and closer until they were at the top looking down (at where they had come from). It sounded like a really amazing and challenging trip.

Also, fun fact: some of the roads they followed were the same ones Bill McKibben named in his book. 

I Love Skiing, But

Bill McKibben wanders through the mountains of the northeast, but while he stops at farms and wineries, schools and cafes, he never touches upon the impact of ski resorts. Skiing is an omnipresent industry in the Green Mountains, and imprinted in the perception of Vermont even more so than local farming and environmental consciousness. Ski areas dot cover Vermont in almost every region of the state – even McKibben’s ideological center Middlebury College runs it’s own ski area – and his the first stop in the book, Mt. Abe, is adjacent to Lincoln Peak, the site of Sugarbush Ski Resort. I can’t quite decide myself the environmental impact of ski resorts. On one hand, they do clear some trees and draw the masses into the mountains in great number. However, ski areas rely on the maintaining the surrounding natural area, both for marketing and athletic purposes: cleared land makes for an a-typical skiing experience and inhibits backcountry enthusiasts. The presence of a ski resort also protects the wilderness from the timber and mining industries, both of which have decidedly greater and longer lasting impacts on the native ecosystem.

My greatest concern regarding ski resorts is the increased traffic into delicate and diminishing alpine zones. The delicate flora of the alpine zone typically grow low to the ground and are hidden beneath northeastern snows, which can total over 300 inches per year in some places. Skiers can cut, crush and otherwise interrupt these endangered species at a much greater rate than backpackers thanks to high-speed ski lifts, which can shuttle around 12,000 people into these fragile regions each hour. Whiteface Mountain in the High Peaks of the Adirondack Park even has a road that runs directly to the summit of the mountain from the highway below. Congestion of that intensity doubtlessly has an impact on the region unmentioned on McKibben’s journey, despite his proximity to the issue.

The Beauty of Regrowth Forests

During class on Wednesday we discussed how the majority of the Adirondacks are not virgin forests, but regrowth forests that have been restored after human’s use of the land. While browsing through the daily Adirondack Almanac news journal I read an article by a man named Dave Gibson, a conservationist and writer deeply interested in the Adirondack region. His article was a personal story in which Gibson and his wife purchased the lot next to his home to save it from being logged, subdivided, and sold to developers. This lot was largely logged in the 1850’s, but has since recovered. Gibson has fond, personal memories of the lot behind his home. He states:

“To me, the hill is of last ice age, 10,000 years passed.  It is a humbling hill that puts humans in our proper place and perspective. The top of the hill was owned by our neighbor and it would have been bulldozed away for housing.  Soon we will own it. We want this hill and the forest on all sides of it to continue on the path of recovery, and of shared memories, an inspired statement of hope that others may add to in future. Our goal is that it outlasts us and becomes what it wants to be.”

This passage struck me as very similar to McKibben’s view of the regrown forests. Bill McKibben states that one of the amazing parts of the Adirondack wilderness is that “no place on the planet has restored itself so thoroughly in the last century” (McKibben 120).  He believes the forest’s ability to persevere over human destruction shows the true power of nature. Both of these environmental writers also know that we must use the forest’s resources in a sustainable way. However, I agree with Gibson in that if we have the capability to halt the logging and developing of a regrowth forest, even though it is not a virgin forest, we should. A virgin forest is remarkable for the fact that it has been saved from human interference. However, these regrown forests McKibben and Gibson write of are remarkable in a different way. They allow us to see how environments change and adapt to our interference and eventually return to a state we call wilderness.

Link to Dave Gibson's article: http://www.adirondackalmanack.com/2014/09/conserving-land-a-personal-story.html?utm_source=Adirondack+Explorer+%26+Adirondack+Almanack&utm_campaign=55dae8c4c1-Adirondack_Almanack_RSS_EMAIL_CAMPAIGN&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_b49eb0d11b-55dae8c4c1-47315509