I was once deemed the expert of a backpacking excursion, too. My dad used to pick me up from elementary school (which was an environmental science charter school in Oregon) and take me hiking or disc golfing or foraging through the woods. He told me to keep up or I'd get left behind.
By 2020 I had gone on a few backpacking trips but all of them were routed around Forest Service cabins. I always carried a tent but never used it until this trip with my dear friend, Rachid. He relied on me. I've always been an outdoorsman. After a few rugged miles we reached our destination for the night in the Spanish Peaks. We chose a place to set up camp then walked back down a little ways to hang our food, as good outdoorsmen do. It was almost dark. Across the basin we saw a dark figure waltz along the treeline. All evening we'd been yelling, "Hey, bear!" An encounter with a bear had been reported earlier that week. We were camped above where we saw what we thought was a bear and decided we shouldn't hike back out. So we stayed up all night, petrified that our first "real" backpacking trip would be our last.
We were up with the sun and already packed up when my friend took a phone call (he's a hot shot lighting designer and must always be reachable). To maximize his reception, he stood on a boulder on a hill just above where we'd been camping. On the other side of the boulder there was a person who had slept in his hammock the night before, surrounded by his snacks and a tiny smolder of a fire. We took every precaution while some dirt bag decided to luxuriously lounge just 50 feet away from us. Angry and under slept, we huffed and puffed back down the mountain. Less than a mile down, I quickly call my dog back to me and tell Rachid to grab his bear spray. There was a mountain lion on trail in front of us. My outdoorsman confidence had been rocked for eight hours straight before, but in the matter of four seconds, my title was restored. I was always prepared. The lion let us be. We made it home safely. I've always been an outdoorsman. Now I continue to work on my bravery.
Well, there was the time two summers ago that Gwen and I did not properly assemble our inflatable kayak and sank in Lower Saranac Lake, where Bob Marshall's family once had its "camp." Fortunately it was warm, the shallows were near, and we enjoy each other's company even when dragging a soggy, floppy boat-thing along the shore.
I am not sure that gives me any connection to Bob Marshall, who is prominent (hard to avoid, really) in Adirondack outdoor history. But of the Wilderness Society's founders, I think he best represents the question of the relationship of wealth and wilderness. I have two questions for John. First, did he radiate his privilege? Which I guess, is a question about what he was like in person? Second, did the privilege afforded by wealth contribute to his failures?
I get the sense that he wore his privilege well. He liked to travel, and go out on fancy dates, and he joined the Cosmos Club, but he treated his guides well. Even those who think his socialism was misguided would see it as honorable and well-meaning. He seemed to delight in his earthier Western colleagues, and they seemed to treat him as a typical (not overly privileged) Eastern tenderfoot.
His mistakes arose from cutting corners. Developing policies correctly -- in collaboration with the tribes -- would have taken forever, and he was impatient. I don't want to minimize the costs of those mistakes, especially to previously-marginalized people. But I do think they're the sorts of mistakes that many of us might have made.
One does not has to be wealthhy to be impatient. And he was part of a time - the New Deal - when plenty of other comfortable (though I think he was more than comfortable) young and not so young white guys were impatiently trying to remake the world. His were not the only corners cut, and not the only mistakes to impact people living on the edges. All in all, I prefer the idealism (naive as it may have been) of the New Deal, when we behaved as if positive change was possible,
Thanks for your questions and perspectives! I agree this is the challenge for our (all?) times: How do we encourage young idealists to reshape the world while also acknowledging and fixing the harms of past such efforts while also not giving in to depression or nihilism. Your own career is a fine example of that. :)
I was once deemed the expert of a backpacking excursion, too. My dad used to pick me up from elementary school (which was an environmental science charter school in Oregon) and take me hiking or disc golfing or foraging through the woods. He told me to keep up or I'd get left behind.
By 2020 I had gone on a few backpacking trips but all of them were routed around Forest Service cabins. I always carried a tent but never used it until this trip with my dear friend, Rachid. He relied on me. I've always been an outdoorsman. After a few rugged miles we reached our destination for the night in the Spanish Peaks. We chose a place to set up camp then walked back down a little ways to hang our food, as good outdoorsmen do. It was almost dark. Across the basin we saw a dark figure waltz along the treeline. All evening we'd been yelling, "Hey, bear!" An encounter with a bear had been reported earlier that week. We were camped above where we saw what we thought was a bear and decided we shouldn't hike back out. So we stayed up all night, petrified that our first "real" backpacking trip would be our last.
We were up with the sun and already packed up when my friend took a phone call (he's a hot shot lighting designer and must always be reachable). To maximize his reception, he stood on a boulder on a hill just above where we'd been camping. On the other side of the boulder there was a person who had slept in his hammock the night before, surrounded by his snacks and a tiny smolder of a fire. We took every precaution while some dirt bag decided to luxuriously lounge just 50 feet away from us. Angry and under slept, we huffed and puffed back down the mountain. Less than a mile down, I quickly call my dog back to me and tell Rachid to grab his bear spray. There was a mountain lion on trail in front of us. My outdoorsman confidence had been rocked for eight hours straight before, but in the matter of four seconds, my title was restored. I was always prepared. The lion let us be. We made it home safely. I've always been an outdoorsman. Now I continue to work on my bravery.
Well, there was the time two summers ago that Gwen and I did not properly assemble our inflatable kayak and sank in Lower Saranac Lake, where Bob Marshall's family once had its "camp." Fortunately it was warm, the shallows were near, and we enjoy each other's company even when dragging a soggy, floppy boat-thing along the shore.
I am not sure that gives me any connection to Bob Marshall, who is prominent (hard to avoid, really) in Adirondack outdoor history. But of the Wilderness Society's founders, I think he best represents the question of the relationship of wealth and wilderness. I have two questions for John. First, did he radiate his privilege? Which I guess, is a question about what he was like in person? Second, did the privilege afforded by wealth contribute to his failures?
I get the sense that he wore his privilege well. He liked to travel, and go out on fancy dates, and he joined the Cosmos Club, but he treated his guides well. Even those who think his socialism was misguided would see it as honorable and well-meaning. He seemed to delight in his earthier Western colleagues, and they seemed to treat him as a typical (not overly privileged) Eastern tenderfoot.
His mistakes arose from cutting corners. Developing policies correctly -- in collaboration with the tribes -- would have taken forever, and he was impatient. I don't want to minimize the costs of those mistakes, especially to previously-marginalized people. But I do think they're the sorts of mistakes that many of us might have made.
Thanks for your answers.
One does not has to be wealthhy to be impatient. And he was part of a time - the New Deal - when plenty of other comfortable (though I think he was more than comfortable) young and not so young white guys were impatiently trying to remake the world. His were not the only corners cut, and not the only mistakes to impact people living on the edges. All in all, I prefer the idealism (naive as it may have been) of the New Deal, when we behaved as if positive change was possible,
Thanks for your questions and perspectives! I agree this is the challenge for our (all?) times: How do we encourage young idealists to reshape the world while also acknowledging and fixing the harms of past such efforts while also not giving in to depression or nihilism. Your own career is a fine example of that. :)