Passing the torch

Let me start off by saying how much I enjoyed last week’s “La Vida” by Burt Baldwin. When I was asked to forego my usual slot so a guest contributor could share a story about his old friend Ed Abbey, I was happy to oblige. I’m a student of Abbey’s, and to picture him hanging out for a book presentation at Maria’s followed by a couple beers at a local bar makes him even more real to me.

I was too young to meet Abbey in the flesh, but I know his soul because of Desert Solitaire. That book; oh, that book. It could make you fall in love with the desert without ever having laid eyes on it. If you’ve spent any time in the red rock desert around Moab and its beauty speaks to you (it doesn’t speak to everyone), Desert Solitaire confirms those notions. It motivates the reader to fight for and protect it from the evil forces that want to develop it or take it out of public hands.

In my college days in Gunnison, I was spoon fed Abbey. I took semesters off, living in a tent. These were the post 9-11, George W. Bush days. I considered Bush “The Second Most Evil Person in the World,” right after Osama Bin Laden, for his ignoramus gusto.

His “fool me once” aphorism, which was recently sampled by rapper J. Cole, summed it all up: he was the stupidest person alive, and he was the leader of the free world.

Living in a tent with nearly nothing to my name, I saw the world as black and white. I wrote editorials about politics and got in fights with conservative writers backing Bush and his vision for revenge.

After I graduated, I realized the world is more gray than black and white. That solider going to war, well, he’s just a guy with a job and a family to provide for. And the coal miner? Same thing, just another person trying to put food on the table.

My mom usually leans Democratic and my dad leans Republican. Yet, my parents get along better than any couple I’ve ever met. Perhaps what I learned is that I’d rather find common ground than focus on where we disagree. But, it seems there is no place for that in modern America.

However, something is happening now that makes me want to get involved again. To not just be the happy medium guy, but to actually fight the good fight. The environmental leaders born of the social movements in the late 1960s are dying. People like The North Face founder Doug Tompkins, who passed away in December but spent the majority of the last part of his life protecting wild lands in Patagonia. “If you’re not willing to take the political heat, then you shouldn’t get into the game of land conservation,” he was quoted as saying in the New York Times. 

When I was in college and angry at this troubled world, I thought my passion would lead to environmental and social change. Now that I’m older, I realize money and power are two other essential elements. Tompkins and his peer Yvon Chouinard, founder of Patagonia, have been able to make significant contributions to the environmental movement because they have the money to put behind it. Guys who once lived with little money, in the dirt, became millionaires, and their deep connection to nature inspired them to give back.

Late one night last week, I was thinking about Tompkins and Chouinard, and an obligation to follow in their footsteps. I wrote out my thoughts and concerns to my friend Stacy Bare, a climber and veteran who works for the Sierra Club. Bare is getting to be a bit of a celebrity in the outdoor world, recently doing a trip with Alex Honnold to Angola, where they installed solar panels and of course, did some climbing. This was the first of his travels to countries where he served in the military for a project called “Make Adventure Not War.” (I should add Honnold’s passion for activism and his foundation are just as impressive as his free solo climbing.)

A couple days earlier, Bare’s new baby girl, Wilder, was born, and he had written me an email. “In a way the torch doesn’t get passed does it? We just have to pick it up when others fall and charge ahead,” he wrote. “My friend and I were talking about that when it came to the passing of Doug Tompkins, and you wonder, how do we replace those guys?”

While these thoughts were swirling around my head, something else happened: Rep. Rob Bishop, R-Utah, released his Utah Public Lands Initiative. In short, the proposal directs a lot of interest to energy development, grazing and motorized use without taking into account the incredible climbing and nonmotorized recreation in the area. What that means for lovers of the red rock desert is that viewsheds could be impacted, motorized use could take precedence over human-powered activities, and getting funding to improve trails or conserve additional places could be challenging. It’s no surprise that conservation and recreation groups, including the Access Fund, American Alpine Club and Outdoor Alliance are rallying to fight the initiative.

But where to focus one’s energy in fighting this terrible proposal? One answer is to write the White House and Center for Environmental Equality and express how important these areas are. There are other, better, ideas for the land, like designating the Inter-Tribal Bear’s Ears National Monument proposal, which President Obama could potentially do before he leaves office. (However, the current draft is not exactly specific on policies for climbing and other recreational activities.) Additionally, the Bureau of Land Management is working on its own strategy for managing lands in southeastern Utah, with an update to its Master Leasing Plan (MLP), which is done every 25 years.

One thing is for sure, though. Change in the desert we love so much is inevitable. 

As always, there’s more to the story, but alas, I’m out of space. And now all that swirls in my head is how Abbey closed Desert Solitaire, “The desert will still be here in the spring. And then comes another thought. When I return will I be the same? Will anything ever be quite the same again? If I return.”

– Luke Mehall