Dear Sundog,

Some friends and I recently booked a big house for a mountain biking trip. It wasn鈥檛 cheap: $800 per-person for the week, and we reserved months in advance, with a strict no-cancellation policy. Since then I broke my collarbone and can鈥檛 ride my bike. I told my friends that I can鈥檛 come and that I don’t want to pay. My injury has cost me thousands in medical bills and missed work. I鈥檓 also bummed to be missing this upcoming trip. They don鈥檛 want to pay extra for my empty room. One of them suggested that I go anyway, even if I can鈥檛 ride. 鈥� Reader

Dear Reader,

On the surface this quandary is simple: you basically entered into a contract with the homeowner to pay the rental fee, knowing that with the cancellation policy, you鈥檇 have to pay even if you didn鈥檛 attend. By that standard, you should simply cough up the dough. If it would be enjoyable to hobble around a rental house while your pals ride bikes, then do it. If not, stay home.

But this situation is complicated. Our human relationships are not merely financial. The people demanding that you fulfill your promise aren鈥檛 bots or banks or faceless property managers: they are your friends. They are under no ethical obligation to bail鈥攐r buy鈥攜ou out of your commitment, and yet, if they refuse, it would certainly be worth examining the true depths of their friendship.

I would like to think that a friendship is built on a stronger foundation. Friends might be willing to make a sacrifice for one of the group who has fallen on hard times. This would be quite different if you鈥檇 merely changed your mind about the trip or got too busy with work. Then they could rightfully tell you to go pound sand.

But what you describe appears to be a legitimate hardship, and you鈥檇 not be crazy to hope your friends would step up. I suppose I am also considering that people who pay $100 per night each to go mountain biking (instead of, say, camping out) are fairly comfortable financially. I assume they could feasibly pay a bit more (or invite someone else to take your place).

厂耻苍诲辞驳鈥檚 verdict: ask your friends to cover your costs. If they refuse, pay what you owe and consider finding new friends.

In a recent column, Sundog discussed the question of homeless people camping on public lands, determining that he himself would not take action to evict. One reader opined that reporting such campers was actually the ethical move:

The bourgeoisie don’t accept everyone. That is a fact鈥攈aving compassion and patience for people disregarded by society is a spiritual endeavor not suitable for everyone. Having experienced violence inflicted on me that was initiated by a local newspaper article that declared war on homeless tents, and having my home of 6 months destroyed and stolen within one day, I understand the trauma inflicted by societal norms. My camp was clean and tidy yet was gone nonetheless because of a front page headline that enabled any citizen to destroy my camp and tent. That is all.

Another reader took the position that compassion trumped legality:

I would definitely work with the Forest Service/ BLM and local police to alert them to the presence of a camp, and to schedule it to be cleared after fair warning. These are much like graffiti, they spread if left unmitigated. It鈥檚 not OK and violates local and federal laws. We live near Alpine, Wyoming, on the Palisades Reservoir where seasonal construction workers live and camp way past the maximum permitted stay. Even if left clean in the fall/winter, the continuous occupancy damages the site. Cat holes with human excrement from months of use don鈥檛 go away and leach into the reservoir. Many camps aren鈥檛 left clean, and they are scary as heck to walk/ run/ bike near ruining the co-existence with local home owners and family weekend campers. So yes, you are entirely justified and, in my option, compelled to report illegal camping. Leave a note, then call the authorities.

A different but related column asked if we should report to police if we found someone squatting in a vacant Airbnb. Sundog told the questioner she was not ethically bound to report this. A reader disagreed:

No offense. Read the article. Definitely see both or all three sides of the argument. Not in agreement though.

I live in Whitefish, Montana Between the pandemic and the TV series Yellowstone, Whitefish, Bozeman and most of western Montana have been inundated with people moving here or buying up properties.

It鈥檚 both flattering and annoying. I wasn鈥檛 born here, but I have owned property here for 35 years, before Ted Turner and so many affluent people came. So I consider this to be my home, and myself to be almost native. So I can see why locals are upset: higher taxes, lack of affordable housing, etc.. But two wrongs don鈥檛 make a right.

If you see a crime, you say something. It doesn鈥檛 matter if it鈥檚 someone illegally parking in a handicapped spot, squatting in a vacant rental or abusing their dog, child, etc. Apathy and lack of respect for others or their property and the rule of law is never acceptable. That鈥檚 what is happening everywhere nowadays鈥攅specially our politicians (both parties) and their lack of accountability for their actions.

It鈥檚 just my opinion. I don鈥檛 have to like someone before I would do the right thing. And the right thing would be to make sure the squatters know there are consequences for their actions.

Mark Sundeen teaches environmental writing at the University of Montana.听Got a question or a response? Email sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

The post Should I Pay My Friends for a Vacation I Can No Longer Attend? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

This winter a woman in Steamboat Springs spotted an elk on her property. When she went out to take a picture, the animal startled and ran into a gully where it got stuck in snow up to its neck. Convinced the , she called game wardens, who told her to leave the animal alone. By morning, she鈥檇 gathered friends to dig it out, but it died before they could help.

The story illustrates a longstanding ethical dilemma. Many people, guided by truly good intentions, can鈥檛 stand to see an animal die, especially if their own actions鈥攍ike approaching the elk to take a picture鈥攁re what led to its predicament.听 Even land managers will occasionally try to rehabilitate an animal that鈥檚 been hit by a car. However, this way of thinking is a slippery slope. A reasonable person could make the case that most frontcountry animal injuries are in some way caused by humans鈥攚hether that鈥檚 due to our encroachment on habitat, or climate change applying new and deadly pressure. But regardless of the cause of injury, wildlife professionals鈥攊ncluding rangers and wardens鈥攁re pretty firm about letting nature take its course, even if that means the animal dies. After all, when one beast falls, another is fed.

It鈥檚 tempting to set such a black-and-white rule. It鈥檚 even more tempting to Monday-morning quarterback. Take one infamous case in which a do-gooder came across a lone shivering baby bison in Yellowstone. He loaded it into the back of his SUV and brought it to the rangers. As it turned out, the baby wasn鈥檛 actually abandoned. But now that it had taken a joyride in a Toyota Sequoia, its mother wouldn鈥檛 take it back, and given the near certainty of its violent death in the jaws of a predator, rangers instead chose to euthanize it. The good Samaritan was fined $119 for his efforts, and his empathy got the bison killed. Critics decried the driver. They also called the case clear-cut, even though it may not have been to the do-gooder at the time.

Other cases are much murkier. My wife worked for years as a field biologist. On one gig, her team was installing small sections of fence around young aspen trees in the backcountry of a national park to cage them off and test how much elk were browsing. But one day a rutting elk scooped up the metal fencing with its antlers where it got entangled. When the cage then flopped onto the elk鈥檚 back, it started, and sprinted out, thinking it was being attacked by some beast it could not see.

What to do? Obviously this was a case where human activity had put the elk in danger. It had no hope of removing the cage from its antlers. The researchers dropped their work and ran after the elk, also radioing game wardens to explain the situation. By the time the wardens arrived with their tranquilizer darts, the elk had wisely waded into the middle of the river鈥攖his is how the animals escape predators. To tranquilize the elk in the river would cause it to drown. So everyone sat down and waited an hour or so. Finally when the elk emerged, they tranquilized it, and were able to remove the metal cage and let the elk go on its merry way. A successful outcome. And yet one might wonder how many federal dollars were spent on this single mission, and astutely note that this kind of treatment must be the exception, not the rule.

So here鈥檚 another case from my wife鈥檚 annals of animal rescue. She and her partner were live-trapping mice for another experiment. But somehow two ground squirrels found their way into the traps. In the cold Montana summer night, they鈥檇 gone into torpor, a sort of short-term hibernation from hypothermia and dehydration. Left to the elements, the squirrels would probably have died. So these young wildlife-lovers took action: They unzipped parkas and each placed a squirrel against their belly to warm them up. It seemed sensible enough. But as they hiked on to the next trap her friend began to wonder aloud. 鈥淚 think there鈥檚 something dangerous about squirrels, but I can鈥檛 quite recall what it is.鈥� He snapped his fingers. 鈥淣ow I remember: They carry bubonic plague!鈥�

The thought of a sharp-fanged and sharp-clawed rodent coming back to life in immediate proximity to their internal organs made the two rethink their plan. So they returned to their truck, and lay the two squirrels on the driver鈥檚 seat where the early morning sunlight through the windshield heated the torpored furballs. They shut the door and went back to work. Returning a few hours later, the creatures were. . . gone? Later when they returned the truck to the yard, the mechanics discovered the squirrels had somehow found their way out of the cab and into the undercarriage. While the mechanic was able to dislodge the animals, it鈥檚 safe to say that this intervention may not have served the squirrels well.

I think it鈥檚 worth discussing how these rescue attempts affect humans, too. Compared with a century or two ago, humans now have virtually no contact with non-domesticated animals. (We have very little contact with farm animals, either.) And I think if we believe that other species have a right to exist, then it might be useful鈥攅ven profound鈥攖o once in a while brush up against them. I don鈥檛 accept the view that 鈥渢he environment鈥� is entirely separate from civilization, or that humans should never disturb or visit it. I tend to think humans can鈥攁nd should鈥攈ave some sort of connection to other species besides donating money to some group that will protect them. Practicing kindness to another species is important. And while I get that it鈥檚 possible that our kindness may actually harm that species, it鈥檚 important to try (within reason), nonetheless. It reminds us that we, too, are part of creation.

Here鈥檚 an analogy. In the modern welfare state, citizens basically agree to pay taxes in order to distribute their wealth to those who need it. This approach has in many European nations. But it also relieves many individuals from the ancient act of charity鈥攐f offering an actual hand to the poor, tired, and downtrodden. So while this technocratic approach produces better results (look at the in the United States compared to Europe) something immeasurable is lost when so many people no longer feel the need to give personally to those in need. When such contributions are just deducted from your paycheck, we become disconnected from the act of charity. We lose the opportunity to give back in the way that that is taught by most world religions, as well as the sort of social-class intermingling that might, in theory, make for better democracies.

To bring the analogy back to animals: wildlife professionals have determined that regular humans should leave nature alone. Let the rangers and wardens figure it out, they say. And yet, some basic part of our humanity is lost if, coming upon a bird with a broken wing, we just walk past, thinking, I must not meddle with the environment. But always deferring to the government professionals can place us in an ethically dubious position. We may end up feeling powerless, unable to perform an instinctual act of kindness. At some level, training ourselves to turn a blind eye to pain has to be bad for the soul.

As for the woman who watched the elk die in the snowdrift near her house: I understand why the warden advised her to leave the animal alone. Elk can be dangerous if they feel they are in danger, striking with their huge hooves and potentially endangering their human rescuers. In any case, the agencies decided to let the elk die, and it did. My point isn鈥檛 to say the agencies made the wrong decision, just that their decision doesn鈥檛 appear to be ethically superior to that of the woman who eventually (and unsuccessfully) attempted to save it.

I also feel that her instinct to try to gather her neighbors to dig out the elk would likely have forged a connection to the nonhuman world that is rare and precious. Remember that humans lived for millennia in intimacy with wild animals, both as hunters and as prey. Maybe we are safer if we stay away from injured animals. But surely something has been lost by rupturing that connection.

Finally, most people who鈥檝e been watching the state of the planet for the past decades are feeling a strong sense of guilt. Humans are causing the extinction of hundreds of other species. It may be easy to ridicule the man who packed a baby bison into his car. It may not have been an educated decision, or even necessarily the right one. But let鈥檚 not belittle his motives.

Mark Sundeen teaches environmental writing at the University of Montana. Got an ethical question of quandary of your own? Send it to sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com.

The post When Is It OK to Rescue a Wild Animal? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: My buddies and I have been mountain biking together for more than 20 years. We鈥檙e not racers, but we ride hard and push each other. A few years back, one of the guys had a hip replacement and could no longer keep up, so he got an e-mountain bike. It was the right call to keep the gang together, even though it limited our access to trails that allow e-bikes. So we started poaching some trails that were off-limits to e-bikes: no one really noticed one electric bicycle in the middle of our pack, and besides, there鈥檚 not much enforcement.

Then, as Mr. Hip began to recover, he started leaving us in the dust. This prompted two of the fully healthy guys to switch over to e-bikes so they could stay out front with him. Now these rides are no longer fun for me, partly because I can鈥檛 keep up, and partly because I feel bad about taking e-bike riders on trails where they鈥檙e not allowed. I鈥檓 not sure how to change it without either being a dick and telling my friends how to act, or being a poor sport and dropping out. 鈥擲lippery Slope

Dear SLOPE,

There are two separate ethical questions here. The first is whether it鈥檚 okay to poach trails that are closed to e-bikes. Of course it鈥檚 illegal, but Sundog doesn鈥檛 always consider an act unethical merely because the state forbids it. You indeed make a good point that Mr. Hip, with his partial disability, is doing no real harm, and I accept that the good of allowing him to regain his health with his friends is of real value. It would be more ethical, of course, if your group chose to ride only on trails open to e-bikes; especially as e-bikes get bigger, heavier, faster鈥攁nd begin to resemble what they literally are, which is motorcycles鈥攖hey should not go on a non-motorized biking trail. But the occasional poach is perhaps no great sin, more akin to driving over the speed limit than, say, starting a forest fire. If Sundog chanced upon a middle-aged dude recovering from surgery riding his e-bike in the wrong place, I might be more inclined to applaud him than scorn him.

But as your name implies, it鈥檚 a slippery slope! Mr. Hip鈥檚 decision has enabled your friends to also break the rules. They of course are weenies, for whom there will be no sympathy from Sundog鈥攎uch less the community of riders who are likely to bite their heads off.

The second and deeper question, which applies to Mr. Hip and your other friends鈥攁nd to all mountain bikers鈥攊s this sense of entitlement, which comes across like this: I should be free to do what I want to do on public lands. Naturally this freedom has been enabled by the lack of law enforcement that you mention. Mr. Hip might say that he used to be able to ride this trail when he was younger and healthier, so isn鈥檛 it fine to use a small assist to stay in shape? Fair enough. But then the other friends might say that they used to be the fastest in their group, and if Mr. Hip has a motor, then why not them, too?

It echoes the debate that upended sport climbing a generation ago. Some bold and brilliant climber established a route on lead in pure style with minimal protection. Now nobody else could repeat the route because it was too dangerous. Well, reasoned the sport climbers, if we rappelled down and placed a few solid bolts, then a lot more people could enjoy this climb! Now those trad climbers who value pure form feel a bit like the Amish, clip-clopping around town in their horse-drawn buggies, the rest of the world scratching their heads at their ethical decisions from another century.

It’s true that, on some trails鈥攕pecifically those that get wet and muddy鈥攅-bikes can cause more erosion than a regular bike, particularly heavier e-bikes with a throttle. But in other places, that鈥檚 not a major concern, and I think those who oppose e-bikes on trails should admit that our chief complaint isn鈥檛 that the bikes are bad for the land, it鈥檚 just that they are annoying to those of us who choose to ride in 鈥減ure鈥� form.

In the future, non-motorized mountain bikes may seem quaint and obsolete. But for now, Slippery Slope, I think you need to tell your healthy friends to stop riding e-bikes where they don鈥檛 belong. If they agree, then your rides will once again be fun for you. If they refuse, and this breaks up the old gang, then at least you鈥檒l know it wasn鈥檛 because of your being too afraid to state your beliefs.

厂耻苍诲辞驳鈥檚 about people who leave dog poops in plastic bags on the trail elicited all sorts of passionate opinions. Sundog suggested that once you get a quarter of a mile from the trailhead, you could just kick the poop or nudge it off the trail with a stick. One reader disagreed strongly:

Let me relate to you why all dog poop needs to be removed, not just kicked off the trail. I was riding my bike on a recreation/bike trail. I got nailed by a hornet. Thinking there might be a nest near the spot I got stung, I returned with a can of spray, to take care of the nest. There was no nest, it was a pile of dog poop with hornets on it. The next day I had to take off work and go to the doctor’s office. My leg around the sting was an angry red color. It was very infected, from the dog-pooped hornet sting. Cost me a round of antibiotics, missed work, expense of doctor and prescription, all because of dog poop a few feet from the trail. I say all dog poop needs to be removed.

Others suggested practical alternatives:

I live in Summit County, Colorado, where dog shit bags are an epic problem. When I first moved here, I was one of those kick-it-off-the trail-in-the-leaves guys. I鈥檝e spent most of my life in Arkansas and Missouri, where poop in the leaves degrades pretty quickly. That’s not the case at high altitude in dry Colorado. So I started bringing along bags, and I’d leave them by the trail, then pick them up on my way out. Well, most of the time I did鈥擨 might have forgotten one. Then reading social media here, I became aware of how seeing and smelling a fresh poop bag ruined the hiking experience for others. And then it ruined it for me, where at times within the first 400 yards of a trailhead, you’ll come across dozens of bags. So then I read a handy 国产吃瓜黑料 magazine gear blurb about the Turdle Bag, which was supposed to hold in the smell so you could pack out your poop. Only it didn’t quite work. My point is: me and my Labrador retrievers Copper and Elbert wrestled with this issue for months, if not years.

Finally, I figured it out: an empty plastic jar will hold the poop smell in 100 percent until you get home. I mean, after you bag it and jar it, you can put your nose right up to the lid and smell…nothing. The small Talenti gelato jar (473ml) will hold about two Labrador or human poops. The large jar will hold more like five. Bonus: it comes filled with gelato you get to eat before your first use! Another option is the Skippy peanut butter jar鈥攂ut it takes a lot longer to empty!

My family even went so far as to take five jars with us on a two-night, three-day camping trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. You should have seen how delighted the ranger was when I told her we were going to 鈥淧oop it out, Pack it out.鈥�

Mark Sundeen teaches environmental writing at the University of Montana. He does not own an e-bike, but he might consider one in a few years. Got a question of your own? Send it to sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

The post My Cycling Buddies Bought E-Bikes. Now I Can鈥檛 Keep Up. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: I鈥檝e always been an environmentalist and lived as close to nature as possible. Years ago I was lucky enough to buy a parcel that borders on public land near a river. I鈥檝e designed and built a dream house that allows me to feel like I鈥檓 a part of the natural surroundings. The house is not visible from the river; I intentionally left the bottomlands untouched. My house fits the landscape and accentuates the natural features, and is honestly nicer to look at than the junk cars and trashed mobile home that I hauled away years ago.

People have historically crossed this land to reach the river. They park at a dead end which is technically my land and walk through the floodplain. When I first bought the land, which used to be part of a ranch, local kids would ride dirt bikes and shoot paintballs down there, and I spent a lot of time and money cleaning up after them and blocking the unofficial roads. I鈥檝e restored ecological systems and habitat for wild animals. I鈥檝e put up signs making it clear that it鈥檚 OK for fishermen to walk through my land to reach the river and for mountain bikers to connect to the larger trail system. And yet people keep tearing down the signs, and driving four-wheelers into my woods, and destroying the place I鈥檓 trying to restore and protect. They complained to my face and in letters to the newspaper that I was ruining a public place鈥攅ven though I own it.

They鈥檝e gone to the zoning board to complain about me, accusing me of technicalities over parking spaces, setbacks, even water quality of the nearby stream. I鈥檝e done everything by the book to protect nature, and still people treat me like I鈥檓 trying to sink the Exxon Valdez here. I feel my next step will be to block access completely: build a fence and put up No Parking signs. My vision for this place did not include a damn parking lot! I feel my next option is to start having cars towed, which I think will be the beginning of a long war with strangers that I鈥檓 not sure I can win. Am I the asshole?
鈥�Nature Is My Back Yard (NIMBY)

Dear NIMBY,

I鈥檓 sorry people aren鈥檛 respecting your property, especially when you think you all share values, that you should be on the same team. I also appreciate you building something that will blend into the landscape, instead of plunking down a scale-model Parthenon with marble columns and double-decker five-car garage to house your collection of off-road motorhomes.

I鈥檓 not the type of purist who wants no manmade structures in nature. From the adobe pueblos of New Mexico, to the whitewashed villages of Andalusia, to the mountain-top temples of Nepal, civilizations have long created architectural styles that don鈥檛 merely complement nature but, as Sundog would say, enhance it, by demonstrating the potential for humans and non-humans to live in harmony.

But, NIMBY, I鈥檓 going to venture that the kids racing their Razrs across your floodplain give zero shits about the temples of Nepal.

The first issue, I suppose, is legality, and you seem to be aware that the law is on your side. You can fence it all off, or even hire an armed militia to patrol your personal border. This nation鈥檚 legal system protects property rights鈥攁nd you will be breaking no law.

However, the deeper issue may not be trespassing: it鈥檚 that you want people鈥檚 approval for the architecturally and ecologically sound decisions you鈥檝e made. The bad news, NIMBY, is that you鈥檙e not going to get it. Based on your letter, I鈥檝e made a few assumptions about your socio-economic status. Although you bought a ranch, you鈥檙e not running cattle on it, nor earning a living by extracting some resource like timber or minerals from it. Second, even if your new house is modest and small, it surely cost a lot more money to build than the existing mobile home that you hauled to the dump.

I鈥檓 going to also assume鈥攎erely because your land is near a river where people come to fish鈥攖hat it鈥檚 shared something with the large swaths of the rural U.S. that abut recreational activities: in the past 20 years it鈥檚 become more crowded, popular, expensive, and filled with wealthy newcomers who don鈥檛 work in the traditional industries of mining, logging, farming and ranching.

I would invite you to interrogate your own belief that the work you鈥檙e doing on your property is for the benefit of nature. Nature may be somewhat indifferent. You are doing this for yourself, for your own sense of belonging on the land, and also for other humans, so that they might share and understand your vision. But how is preserving nature (from other people) all that different than locking up the land to build your own private paradise? These days, land conservation can feel a bit like feudalism, in which the wealthy hoard land for themselves. Of course, in old Europe the lord earned income by stealing the labor of his serfs who farmed his land. These days the lord doesn鈥檛 bother trying to make a buck on the earth; he earns his income in some distant industry鈥攆inance, technology, medicine, media, consulting (whatever that is)鈥攚hile keeping the land 鈥減ristine.鈥�

Are you the asshole? That depends on who you ask. Protecting trees and animals will make you a hero to a certain slice of the population. But if you block local people from the paths they鈥檝e walked for generations before you arrived, well, yes, they鈥檒l think you鈥檙e just another rich outsider locking up the land.

There is no easy decision. You believe that by cleaning up and protecting the natural world, you are implementing a more enlightened land ethic than the Genesis story in which Man holds dominion over all other species, and is free to use or misuse the land for whatever purpose suits him. But may I suggest that the land ethic of cultivating your own private garden is equally colonial, rooted perhaps in another Old Testament idea that Man is sinful but the Garden is perfect without him. Your house indicates that you are able to see beauty in nature not despite humankind, but because of it. I wonder if you can apply the same philosophy to the humans wandering through the woods that you now call your own.

Mark Sundeen once built a handsome shed that integrated with the natural landscape. Thus far it has attracted no trespassers or looky-loos.

The post I Built My Dream House in the Woods. My Neighbors Hate It. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog,听

Last September, in California鈥檚 Malibu Creek State Park, a mountain lion pounced on a five-year-old child. The father managed to save his kid by fighting off the cat, and soon after, officials euthanized the cougar. Isn鈥檛 this immoral and outrageous? The lion was behaving just as nature intended.听鈥� People against he Unethical Murder of Animals

Dear PUMA,

This is not the only recent alarming attack on humans by a cougar. In 2023, an eight-year-old boy was while camping with his family in Olympic National Park; his mom chased off the cat, and he escaped with minor injuries. Last April, two brothers were out in the Sierra Nevada foothills looking for shed antlers when they encountered a cougar. It attacked both young men, killing one.

As a professional arbiter of ethics, my job is to see at least two sides of any given issue. However, as the father of a five-year-old who I regularly take to the woods and canyons, I am unable to access the other side here, to find what John Keats might have called the 鈥渘egative capability鈥� to tolerate the mystery that falls outside of reason. My take is strictly Old Testament: I say smite the beast. If an animal tried to drag off my child, my notions of animal rights and equality among the species would go straight out the window. I would try to kill it even if it escaped, assuming that, if left to live, it would try the same thing again.

I seem to be in line among people in positions of responsibility鈥攁t the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, as well as wildlife advocacy groups. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 have a mountain lion jail,鈥� Beth Pratt, the California state director of the National Wildlife Federation, told the after the Malibu Creek incident. 鈥淎s much as it pains me, I think the officials made the right decision here.鈥�

The conundrum is not new. But we might say we鈥檝e had a respite. After a cougar killed a human in California in 1909, the state went more than 80 years without another fatality. In 1990, fearing the lion was going extinct, voters passed a ballot initiative to protect the animal. The past four decades have seen mountain lions acting more aggressively. Even so, it鈥檚 still a small number. According to the , there have been 26 verified cougar attacks on humans since 1986, four of them fatal.

These ethical dilemmas about what an animal is 鈥渁llowed鈥� to do pre-date the United States, of course. During the Middle Ages, animals were put on trial for crimes ranging from caterpillars stealing fruit to pigs who committed murder. 鈥淗ere were bears formally excommunicated from the Church,鈥� writes Mary Roach in her book Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law. 鈥淪lugs given three warnings to stop nettling farmers, under penalty of smiting.鈥�

And yet, buried in my psyche, was the belief that killing a cougar for being a cougar was just . . . wrong? I turned to an expert in the field to see what I was missing. Christopher Preston is a professor of environmental ethics at the University of Montana and author of the book . Because mountain lion attacks are still so rare, Preston thought there wasn鈥檛 much official protocol. Bears, however, attack more frequently. When a bear kills or eats a human, it will be euthanized. But if a bear attacks a person while demonstrating what authorities consider natural behavior, it will be spared. 鈥淚f you surprise a bear with cubs or on a kill, and it attacks you, then the bear can be let off,鈥� Preston told me. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not a pattern of behavior that demonstrates unnatural instincts.鈥�

It鈥檚 unclear if the behavior of the Malibu Creek cougar was natural.听 The event that you refer to, PUMA, involved a young lion approaching a group of humans in a picnic area and dragging off a child, a particularly brazen act. Yes, it鈥檚 perfectly natural for a mountain lion to haul off a smaller creature in hopes of dining on it. But, said Preston, this cougar had left its natural environment and entered a human environment: a picnic area in a state park. 鈥淲here do you draw the line when natural behavior starts to impact us pretty severely?鈥� he asked. We have no problem cracking down, he adds, when forms of life like bacteria and viruses exhibit their natural behavior of infecting our bodies.

Preston made another point: humans are constantly expressing their dominance over the natural world, and if we just kill anything that makes a problem with us, then we鈥檙e not learning anything. But in his opinion, even this line of reasoning doesn鈥檛 merit a puma pardon. 鈥淪omeone can feel sympathy for the lion for doing what lions do, but that probably won鈥檛 get you a non-shoot order.鈥�

鈥淲e need to dial back our dominance, but this case brings it into sharp contrast,鈥� said Preston. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how many environmental ethicists would say, 鈥榊es, let鈥檚 just let lions keep dragging kids out of picnic areas.鈥欌��

Preston and I decided to find out. He sent out a note to a handful of colleagues. The first to respond was Philip Cafaro, a professor of philosophy at Colorado State University:

The way I see it, mountain lions and people have a right to live in California (and elsewhere). But there are way too many people in CA (~ 40 million) and way too few mountain lions (probably less than 5,000). It鈥檚 way out of balance, way unjustly tilted toward us hogging most of the habitat and resources. So, speaking strictly to the justice of the situation, mountain lions that attack and even kill people should be left alone. We can spare a few people from our teeming hordes, while there are precious few pumas left.

But even he shied away from cougar clemency:

Pragmatically speaking, people are too selfish and cowardly to act ethically in such cases. So, the next best thing is let them kill some mountain lions in the hope that they will leave the rest alone.

A second Colorado State professor of philosophy, Katie McShane, raised other important questions, which perhaps explain why we no longer drag beasts before a judge and jury:

I鈥檓 not sure we blame animals very much at all; but in any case, killing the mountain lion isn鈥檛 conceived of as punishment, but rather, keeping people safe.

Maybe there鈥檚 an animal ethics question about whether killing the lion is the best way to protect people? Given mountain lion behavior, I can鈥檛 imagine that confinement would go well. Are there sanctuaries? I don鈥檛 know; they鈥檇 need to be huge. Anyway, my guess is that killing the mountain lion is the most humane option as well.

The short answer to that is, mountain lions require too much terrain to be placed in sanctuaries. And relocating an animal that鈥檚 attacked a human doesn鈥檛 mean it won鈥檛 attack again. I find myself agreeing that killing is the best option in this difficult situation.

Before Preston signed off, he also speculated that there might be something in the human psyche that calls for harsher punishments for pumas than for other predators鈥攂ears, for example. 鈥淭here is something singular about the lion,鈥� he said. 鈥淵ou get stalked. You don鈥檛 know it鈥檚 coming. Bears kind of look like people when they stand up on two legs, so we know what they are about. The lion occupies a different place in our cultural imagination: the stealthy undesirable ghost in the forest that we don鈥檛 want to empathize with.鈥�

Mark Sundeen lives in a canyon in Montana where cougar sightings are frequent, yet in his four decades of exploring and guiding in the West, he鈥檚 never seen one in the wild. Sundeen’s new book, 听comes out February 18.

The post Should We Spare a Cougar That Attacked a Child? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: Am I a jerk for not owning an electric vehicle yet? I live in a city, commute to work, and like to get outside. I have a decent car that gets decent mileage, but feel like I would be doing better for myself and the planet with an EV. Should I buy one? 鈥擫ooking for Environmental Alternatives that are Friendly

Dear LEAF,

Let鈥檚 say you鈥檙e the average American who commutes 42 miles per day round-trip to a job that you find moderately soul-sucking. Maybe your labor serves a corporation that enriches its execs and shareholders while doing ill in the world. Maybe you work for an idealistic school or nonprofit, but are expected to work nights or weekends without additional pay. Or perhaps you simply sense that your one and only life on this gorgeous Earth is slipping past while you compose reports and gaze at Zoom.

In any case, you want to lead a more principled and less wasteful life than your vocation allows鈥攜ou don鈥檛 want to be a jerk鈥攕o you upgrade your Corolla for an electric vehicle. Where will you find that $35K or $75K? If you can pull the funds directly from your savings or trust fund, then God bless you. Otherwise, you鈥檒l borrow the money and make a monthly payment. You鈥檒l have to keep doing your job in order to afford your green ride.

You will likely be paying interest to some bank. Will that bank use your hard-earned dollars to manifest a better society? More likely, their profits will go for millions in dividends to stock owners, or they鈥檒l be loaned out again to finance all kinds of hideous adventures, from oil pipelines across to deforesting the .

So by reducing your dependence on the gas station鈥攐ne tentacle of the fossil fuel industry鈥攜ou鈥檝e now become a partner to some other tentacle. Also, much of the electrical grid from which you鈥檒l power that EV is still burning coal and gas to make electricity, so unless you鈥檙e charging from your own rooftop panels, you haven鈥檛 fully escaped even one tentacle.

So, no, LEAF, you鈥檙e not a jerk should you choose a different path. And yes, if you鈥檙e buying a car鈥攅specially to replace a gasoline car鈥攊t should probably be an EV. But there are so many variables.

You will no doubt have heard about the of using rare-earth elements like cobalt and lithium for electric batteries. It鈥檚 true: mining is bad. But this alone is not a valid reason to pass on buying an EV. The damage required to extract these miracle elements is much smaller than the alternative鈥攄rilling for oil and gas, and digging coal to produce electricity. If you can鈥檛 stomach the exploitation of nature and humans that is inherent to the industrial economy, let me gently suggest that you make a more radical lifestyle change than getting an EV鈥攁nd try giving up your car altogether.

Sundog does not give advice he would not heed, so here鈥檚 my full disclosure: even I鈥攍iterally a professor of environmental studies鈥攄o not own an EV, not even a hybrid. My family鈥檚 fleet consists of a 2005 Toyota Tundra that gets an alarming 15 to 22 miles per gallon, and a 2012 Subaru Outback that does only slightly better at 21 to 28.

As a matter of principle, I don鈥檛 think the only way to save the planet is by transferring billions of dollars from regular citizens to the corporations that build cars. As a matter of budget, I have never owned a new car. All my vehicles have cost less than $10K, except the Outback, which was $16K. I鈥檝e actually never even sat in a Tesla, but I imagine driving one to be like having an orgasm while watching a looped clip of Elon Musk declaring: 鈥淚鈥檝e done more for the environment for any other single human on earth.鈥�

Let me state on the record that I love cars and trucks. They鈥檝e provided much joy in my life, usually along a lovely lonesome stretch of two-lane blacktop or at the terminus of some rutted old ranch road. But those sort of experiences likely account for less than one percent of overall driving. In the past century, we have built American cities to accommodate people using cars for the most mundane of outings like commuting, shopping, and bar-hopping. The tradeoff is not just carbon emissions and pollution, but also sprawl, isolation and streets unsafe for walking and biking.

Turns out that in cities built before the era of the automobile鈥攆rom New York to Barcelona to Kathmandu鈥攜ou can get around without a car. When you remove traffic jams, parking tickets, the endless search for a place to park, the glum designation of a sober driver, and the claustrophobia of being locked in a metal box, city living is just more . . . fun.

When Sundog and Lady Dog set out to design our own lives, it was not to be in some Old World capitol, but rather in a midsized city in the Rockies. We didn鈥檛 aspire merely to burn fewer fossil fuels: we wanted to free ourselves from our car. We bought a house less than a mile from the place we work, less than a mile from the center of town. Our kid goes to preschool two blocks from here. Now we get around mostly by foot and bike, and can walk to trails and a creek. Many days go by where our dented guzzlers sit on the street鈥攚e drive each vehicle about 5,000 miles per year, about a third of the of 13,500.

The downside is that the houses in this neighborhood are a century old, dilapidated, small, and expensive. It鈥檚 a bit of a whack-a-mole game: our heating bills are low because we live in 1,000 square feet, but we can鈥檛 afford solar panels or a heat pump. We don鈥檛 spend much money on gasoline, but we can鈥檛 afford an EV.

Had we decided to live 21 miles from our jobs, we might have had a big new well-designed home and a slick new EV. But we love walking and biking; we want to teach our son that he can do the same, and that his parents are not his chauffeurs.

So why do we bother owning cars at all? For one, Montana is a lovely place to live, but it sure costs a lot to leave. Cheap airfares are not really a thing here. Neither is public transportation. So if you want to take a family vacation within a 1,000-mile radius, you鈥檙e likely driving. We bought the Tundra during the pandemic to tow a camp trailer (our 鈥渙ffice鈥�) and to haul lumber while we built a permanent office. Now we use the truck for long river trips, which entail carrying heavy loads for hundreds of miles through remote areas and down rutted dirt roads.

I don鈥檛 know of any EV that could do this. The Subaru is the town errand runner, and also takes us down bumpy roads to lakes and up icy mountains to ski. If it bites the dust and the cost of used four-wheel-drive EVs drops below twenty grand, I鈥檇 be happy to upgrade.

None of this makes Sundog feel particularly righteous. My point is that choosing a car is not a stand-alone decision as you forge an ethical life.

Mark Sundeen teaches environmental writing at the University of Montana. Despite his fleet of internal combustion engines, he refuses to purchase a parking permit and therefore commutes on a 1974 Schwinn Continental, with a ski helmet in winter.

If you have an ethical question for Sundog, send it to sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

The post Am I a Jerk for Not Owning an Electric Car? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: We recently went to a wedding in a mountain resort town. We rented a condo online because the wedding hotel was fully booked. I had qualms because I know that people like us are driving up the cost of living for locals, but didn鈥檛 have a better option so I swallowed the qualms. After a flight delay we arrived a day late. We saw a beat-up car parked in the driveway. As we approached, two young guys who looked like climbing bums tossed some gear into the car, took a look at us, jumped in and drove off. My husband thought it was suspicious and asked me to jot down their license plate number, which I did. Inside the condo it was clear that these kids had spent the night. We called the host, who came over immediately, did a quick clean and changed the entry codes. He told us he was not the owner but a professional host who managed a dozen rentals in town. The actual owner lived out of state. It sat vacant during the off-season.

Later, the host messaged us to say that the owner had filed a police report and wanted our help to identify the squatters. My husband thinks we should hand over the license plate number. I disagree. I don鈥檛 have much sympathy for the absentee landlord. The kids hadn鈥檛 actually damaged the condo, and frankly it鈥檚 not my job to get them in trouble. Who鈥檚 right? 鈥擵ery Resistant to Bending Over for Real Estate Barons Exploiting Locals

Dear VRBO REBEL: First let me commend you and your husband鈥檚 coolheadedness: you did not gun down these trespassers in cold blood, which seems an increasingly common response in our country of stand-your-grounders. It appears you have an ounce or more compassion for these loafers even if they made you uncomfortable.

First, let鈥檚 agree that this owner is fully within his rights to press charges against these guys鈥攊f he can find them. They committed a crime against his property. Your ethical quandary, VRBO REBEL, is a more interesting one: must you be complicit in this version of criminal justice, especially when you see ethical qualms in the behavior of the victim. Indeed, the American justice system has long skewed to value property more highly than humanity. Here鈥檚 an example: in the days of the frontier, out-of-state cattle barons owned herds of cattle numbering in the thousands that they hired cowboys to tend. It鈥檚 worth mentioning that the steers and cows could only stay alive by munching off grasses on lands that did not belong to their owners. The herds were too big to manage, and invariably some cattle wandered off. Along comes some hungry cowpoke or Indigenous person who seizes a beef and slices it up for steaks. Now he鈥檚 a guilty of a hanging offense.

In today鈥檚 West, now that beef and lumber and mining are past their prime, the most precious commodity is real estate, specifically rentable residences near some National Park or other natural wonder. When the pandemic brought historically low interest rates, speculators could snap up these properties for far more than locals could afford, and still rent them short-term for enough to cover their historically low monthly mortgage payment. Fill the place with some blonde-wood Scandinavian furniture and patterned shower curtains from Target and voil脿: an investment that not only yields monthly dividends but will also presumably gain value over the years. The speculator wins, the visitors like yourself wins, while the actual town residents are squeezed.

Getting back to the cattle analogy, if an AirbnBaron owns so many rental properties that he can鈥檛 keep them properly protected from the scourge of townies, then so be it. I guess I don鈥檛 see using police work and courts to punish the interlopers as a particularly ethical use of taxpayer money. Just as the cattle baron should have hired more cowboys to guard his cows, so should the rental baron hire a rent-a-cop to patrol his vacant structure.

As for your own question about ratting out these dirtbags, VRBO REBEL, I say hell no. Collaborating with police was not in the agreement you signed. By paying your nightly fee, you have fulfilled your obligations, both legal and financial, to the condo owner. You are not ethically bound to join his posse and help him rope the rustlers. Burn that license plate number with a clean conscience.

Got a question of your own? Send it to听sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

(Photo: Mark Sundeen)

Mark Sundeen, aka Sundog, has done his fair share of squatting in vacant buildings, such as this cabin near Death Valley, circa 1998. He鈥檚 also had his share of strangers squatting in his un-winterized desert trailer. So it all sort of evens out?

The post Should I Help an Airbnb Owner Bust His Squatters? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: Floating down Desolation Canyon in Utah on a private trip, pulling the oars against the upstream wind, we were passed by commercial rafts lashed together buzzing their motors to snag the primo camps. I know it鈥檚 bad form for parties to send a boat ahead to steal a camp, but this situation just demanded some sort of justice. Is it OK to break the rules to combat the commercial guide domination? 鈥擯erplexed Rower Offended by Boating Ethics

Dear PROBE: As your letter notes, the practice of splitting up a river group to 鈥渃amp run鈥� downriver is morally murky. It breeds cutthroat competition, with boaters racing each other for a shady beach instead of chilling the F out while floating lazily down the current the way the Creator intended. On many permitted river sections, the practice is explicitly banned, enforced with the threat of a ticket written up by river rangers鈥攚hat Sundog used to call 鈥減addle pigs.鈥� What鈥檚 more, it鈥檚 downright foolhardy: if someone in the upstream group has a medical emergency, a blown valve, or simply can鈥檛 hack the wind, then some of the group may spend the night separated from food, groovers, and first-aid kits.

Yet 厂耻苍诲辞驳鈥檚 area of expertise is not legality or foolhardiness鈥攊t鈥檚 ethics鈥攁nd the fact of some activity being forbidden and stupid doesn鈥檛 make it unethical.

PROBE, these are desperate times trying to get to the river. The COVID recreation boom, combined with the online ease of applying for permits, has made it nigh impossible to win the 鈥渓ottery鈥� and float the big rivers. Perhaps this onerous process before the launch is what ratchets up the battle for the best camps. The behavior you describe by the commercial guides is, though not illegal, extremely irritating. Motoring past hard-working rowers and paddlers all but guarantees that the loudest polluters get the best camp. Ethical guides would cut their goddamn Evinrudes, and call out, 鈥淗ey, which camp were you hoping to reach tonight. We鈥檒l be happy to skip that one so you can have it.鈥�

Likely ain鈥檛 gonna happen. So we鈥檙e left with deciding how we can best behave. On canyons like the Gates of Lodore where sites are limited, boaters are required to sign up for camps and stick to that itinerary. Sundog finds this a Draconian fix, as it takes away from the sense of spontaneity and timeless drift that attracts him to rivers in the first place.

On the Salmon River, all parties are required to talk it out, perhaps hug, and decide who will camp where on which night. It鈥檚 a good idea. Sundog is aware of at least one instance in which commercial guides welched on their word and stole a camp from a private party, who made a point鈥攋ustified, I鈥檇 say鈥攐f repaying them in kind the following night. However these shenanigans are precisely what motivates the paddle pigs to write more rules and regulations.

In your case, PROBE, the best practice would be to flag down the motor-rig and have a conversation to try to avoid the steal in the first place. If that fails, and your camp is taken, I suppose it is ethical to break the rules in order to fight what is otherwise a losing battle. But it鈥檚 a slippery slope, because when you set out to grab a camp from an outfitter, you鈥檙e just as likely grabbing it from another private party in front of you, which makes you the jerk.

Your question does raise another issue, which is why are motors allowed on a stretch of river in a designated wilderness that for at least a portion is labeled Wild and Scenic. The most obvious answer is the first 25 miles of windy flatwater. Difficult, sure, but boaters without motors have made their way through for over a century now. The longer answer is that motors allow outfitters to sell the 86-mile canyon as a 5-day trip, while muscle-powered expeditions take a few days longer. There is some rich irony in the well-intentioned leave-no-tracers straining their dishwater to avoid contaminating the river while a few yards from shore outboard motors spew oil and gas directly into the fishes鈥� living room.

In a column about being a surfing tourist in Mexico, Sundog suggested re-examining our beliefs about globalization. A reader, Stan Weig, responded:

I was intrigued by your recent column on 鈥淵ankee Imperialism鈥� and Mexico travel, as I just returned from a five week drive to Cabo San Lucas and back. I have traveled to Baja since the 鈥�60s, in everything from a pickup camper to a really nice motorhome. And a 747.

While I respect the need to be nice to the subscribers that write in, I suggest your 鈥渕iddle-of-the-road鈥� was too soft on the self-centered Rich White Yankee Surfer guilt trip of your advice seeker.听

Not everybody likes the huge condos, raucous tourist bars and t-shirt shops of Cabo鈥擨 don鈥檛鈥攁nd if your reader doesn鈥檛 like it, don鈥檛 go. But it鈥檚 more about preferences than an ethical quandary about globalization. I don鈥檛 particularly care for Miami Beach either. However, San Juan de Cabo is just to the north of Cabo and has a very different vibe and a well preserved old town鈥攇o there and rest easy.听

Tourists are a cash crop, and the folks running the sushi restaurant that she deplores, renting the beach chairs, and driving her around in a rental car made in Mexico and owned by Mexicans, are local entrepreneurs raising and harvesting that crop. Indeed, one could argue that in the good old days when we traveled from the high ground of Yankee prosperity down to 鈥渦nspoiled鈥� poverty of Mexico we were taking advantage as well.

Your advice to research and support local business was right on. If she doesn鈥檛 want to support globalist capitalists, she ought to be doing that here at home too. By the way, the reader may not know that while development along the beach may have been built with expat dollars, the ownership is required to be at least 51 percent Mexican. And she may not be aware of the government mandated efforts to ensure that local interests are at least somewhat protected during development. For example, perhaps the nicest beach in the Cabo area for sunning, swimming, and snorkeling is Chileno Beach. Right next to it is a huge new (and expensive!) resort鈥攂ut access to the beach is free, there are nice restrooms, showers, and a lifeguard; and any of the locals that want to can take their kids and a cooler down to the beach for the day.

When we visited Todos Santos 35 years ago, the fabled Hotel California was shabby and in disrepair and all the side streets were pot holed dirt. Now the hotel is nice, locally run restaurants abound, local artists successfully compete with Made in China souvenir shops, and the streets are paved鈥攕o maybe tourism ain鈥檛 so bad.

Got a question of your own? Send it to听sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com.

Mark Sundeen, aka Sundog, worked as a river guide for 11 years. These days he thinks young guides have a bit of attitude that they own the whole river, and he is happy to poach their campsites if the situation warrants it.

The post The Battle for Campsites Is Out Of Hand. Is it Ever OK to Steal One? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: Decades ago I worked with a close friend as a river guide and we were both complete dirtbags, living in our cars during raft season then traveling around during the winter. Since then, I鈥檝e become financially successful and have a garage filled with rafts, kayaks, trailers, oars, paddles, and SUPs to prove it. My friend has worked as a freelancer and has always been candid about how difficult it is to pay his mortgage and make ends meet. At least once a year he asks to borrow a raft for a multi-day river trip (sometimes with me, sometimes not) and I鈥檝e always been happy to lend it to him. He takes good care of my equipment and repairs or replaces anything that gets damaged. I love to see him taking his children out on the river.

Recently after a few beers around the campfire, he revealed to me that for two decades he and his wife had each been socking away $6,000 each year into their IRAs and investing in tech stocks, and now have a portfolio valued at half a million dollars. Now I feel a bit tricked, like he had the cash to buy his own boat years ago but chose instead to save, and I鈥檇 be a dupe for continuing to lend him mine. What should I do? 鈥擫oaner

Dear Loaner, I fully understand why you feel duped. You thought you were helping a poor relation; turns out he had been hoarding his dollars all along. While your friend鈥檚 behavior may have perplexed or even hurt you, I don鈥檛 think he was unethical. He was living frugally and within his means. In a country without a safety net, we know that we likely won鈥檛 be able to live off of Social Security, and we have to do our own saving and planning. Ditto that if we鈥檇 like to send our kids to college. And let鈥檚 face it, whitewater boats鈥攁nd for that matter, all outdoor gear鈥攊s expensive. Former dirtbag guides like Sundog and you and your friend came to believe that the rafts, oars, trucks, and trailers sort of grew on trees: they arrived at the ramp each morning ready for us to use all day. It came as a shock to Sundog to learn that, after 鈥渞etirement鈥� from guiding, he couldn鈥檛 even afford to get back on the river! It would seem that your friend did the responsible thing and did not buy things out of his budget.

What鈥檚 more, there seems something inherently virtuous about borrowing in our world of over-consumption and ecological crisis. Rafts are manufactured from a toxic cocktail of chemicals; it’s hard to justify purchasing one that is going to sit in a garage 50 weeks out of the year.

Lastly, was your friend obliged to keep you posted on the status of his retirement investments over the year? I think not.

And yet. You not only chose to invest in fun and adventure鈥攜ou freely lent your toys to someone in need. It doesn鈥檛 seem fair. Loaner, you would be perfectly within your rights to simply tell your friend in the future that you鈥檇 prefer not to lend your boat anymore. You don鈥檛 even need to supply a reason.

Before you do, I鈥檇 recommend that you think deeply about why you have been so generous in the past. Was it because you simply wanted your friend to enjoy the river? Or were there murkier waters? For example, did you enjoy the regular reminder that you were more financially successful than your friend? Here鈥檚 a useful thought experiment: what if a similar friend who lived close to the bone asked to borrow your gear, and yet you knew that he had a massive trust fund. Would it feel wrong to give to someone who clearly did not need it? Charity is slippery. Sometimes we give out of true empathy, but sometimes we give to feel good about ourselves, or even simply to give others the impression that we are generous. After all what is more benevolent: a tycoon who gives a million dollars which is a small fraction of his fortune, or a homeless person who gives you his last dollar?

I鈥檇 say that what鈥檚 more important than the boat here is the friendship, and you don鈥檛 want the oar frame to become a proxy battleground for unspoken resentments. Probably what鈥檚 best鈥攖hough not easiest鈥攊s before the next spring runoff is that you take your friend for a beer or a walk, and talk this through, not so much the specifics of the loaning, but your deeper values around money, spending, and savings. There is a good reason that people are reluctant to talk about money鈥攖here鈥檚 a lot of shame both in having too much and having too little. Talking about it will likely make the friendship stronger.

In a recent column, Sundog weighed in on collecting rocks on public lands. One experienced reader suggested that we consider what it is that the rocks want, a position so unexpected and delightful that Sundog wishes he鈥檇 come up with it first:

As a field biologist who would like to be a geologist in another life, I enjoyed your reflection. Whenever I have traveled鈥攍ike your wife鈥擨 return with a rock. Well, perhaps more than one. And my garden is littered with these rocks. There are flakes from Vegas mixed with flakes from the Rift Valley. Maybe I thought they could have a conversation.

I too covet rocks. So now, before I take, I ask the rock: 鈥淎re you doing a job?鈥� 听I am always answered. 鈥淢y job is to be a part of this hillside鈥� or 鈥淢y job is to make a striking statement for those who will pass by.鈥� Or 鈥淚 am here to be found by a child and painted.鈥� 听But sometimes they will say, 鈥淚 am not doing any meaningful work and have no special purpose, in fact I just find myself with nothing to do that is good for any creature, any rock, or rock bank.鈥� I take those to the rock wall I am building. And they are appreciated regularly. Not that they need that. But I am grateful that they are part of my world and there is something to be said for gratitude.

Still, when my husband and I travel we say to each other: just one! Last trip resulted in one very small piece of bubbly chalcedony. 鈥�Robbin

Mark Sundeen, aka Sundog, has been borrowing other people鈥檚 rafts since as far back as the 90s. When doing so, it鈥檚 a good idea to pay forward the generosity.

Got a question of your own? Mad as hell about something Sundog wrote? Send a note to: sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com.

The post Should I Lend My Gear to a Friend Who Can Afford to Buy His Own? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Dear Sundog: While on a road trip, I reserved a public campsite online which cost $15. When the day arrived, I saw that we weren鈥檛 going to make it that far, so I went to cancel. I did not expect a refund, but learned that I would have to pay an additional $10 to cancel. My rule-following partner wanted to pay the fee, but I said forget about it. Who was right? 鈥擪

Dear K: Although Sundog is no couples counselor, this is one instance in which I can confidently say: neither of you is right, neither is wrong. Yes, I suppose it鈥檚 better to follow the rules. But throwing away any amount of money, even ten dollars, is of dubious benefit. I mean, when you pay a parking ticket do you feel like you鈥檝e improved society?

But your conundrum wades into the murkier waters of what has become a national crisis: virtually all good campsites are booked solid, while many are half-empty, due to folks like you who either forgot to cancel or refused to pay the cancellation fee or simply got defeated by making yet one more online transaction (forgot the password, etc.) in our lives which seem increasingly dominated by dicking around on the internet.

We arrived at this situation, as usual, by believing that technology would make life easier. And I think we can all agree that going to and clicking a few boxes is much simpler than phoning a bunch of ranger stations across the country, being put on hold, having to call back during business hours, etc. But the unintended consequence is a system that greatly benefits laptop warriors with money to burn, and penalizes the people who actually pack up their gear and get offline and into the woods. Any competent iPhone user can secure dozens of campsites in a few minutes, six months in advance, paying a relatively small fee for the privilege. Many won鈥檛 bother to cancel, and won鈥檛 be able to arrive. Now the actual campers who roll through the loop at dusk are faced with reserved鈥攜et empty鈥攕ites, and must travel on, likely to some undesignated sites where they will poop in a hole and leave a bed of charred sticks in a circle of stones.

Basically online reservation systems have created a moral hazard. We are encouraged to behave badly. The ease of reservations creates a false scarcity, so everything gets booked up within hours of becoming available. And as you note, there is a literal cost to do the right thing. The lack of real consequences for no-showing, combined with fees and hassles, encourages us to do what you did, K, and simply pay for an empty site.

So how can we end this? One solution would be to raise the costs exorbitantly. You鈥檙e less likely to eat a $100 per night fee than a $15 per night fee. And yet this would again favor people with the means and energy to waste money.

Sundog suggests an easier cancellation policy with more draconian consequences. It should be free to cancel up to the day of arrival. That would have made your decision, K, a no-brainer. After that, no-shows should be banned from rec.gov or whatever state platform they used for a full year. This doesn鈥檛 mean they can鈥檛 go camping for a year. Just that they have to show up and wait in line for cancellations like the rest of us. This system is already used for some coveted river permits, where no-shows are not allowed to enter the lottery for two full years. Banning the no-shows from rec.gov would not only discourage bad behavior, but it would also reduce the pressure on the platform, as the worst hoarders who make a ton of reservations would be blocked.

厂耻苍诲辞驳鈥檚 column on ratting out a neighbor鈥檚 Airbnb in a resort town sparked some feverish fan/hate mail. Sundog told the writer to go ahead and tattle. Readers replied in droves, even implying that Sundog supports Vladimir Putin (which, for the record, he does not).

You excoriate the speculator purchasing a property at market price, as determined by an unpressured agreement between a willing seller and a willing buyer. The seller is presumably, based on your article, a local person. Yet there is no mention or castigation of the seller in your article? Is there a reason for this discrepancy in assigning blame, or is it just hypocrisy? Presumably, the sellers are friends and neighbors of the people up in arms about the issue who still live in the neighborhood.听听

Are you saying some government overlords should determine who can sell what goods and services and at what prices? Sounds rather Putin-like to me. Perhaps they will next seek to monitor and manage communication and various writings done by people, so as to not sully the minds of the population.

Are you saying the government overlords should dictate who can stay in a rental house? Apparently, per your agreement with the questioner, college kids and dirtbags are OK, vacationing families are not?

I didn’t see anything from the person complaining as to how the change in clientele of the house caused him specific harm. Perhaps that was omitted from the article for the sake of brevity?

I see you complaining about Amazon killing off bookstores and streaming services killing record stores, but you are just fine with accepting payment for on-line blogs with no concern for your participation in the death of print media? I guess it is OK as long as you get yours, eh? 鈥挤.搁.

Invariably, there were a few readers in 厂耻苍诲辞驳鈥檚 camp:

Very refreshing to read a piece that does not genuflect to the predatory investment tools that are so in vogue by people that don’t want to do actual work… The comment about ski towns stood out because I live in one, Rutland, VT, near the Killington skiers’ paradise. Rutland is selling its soul to the highest bidder under the guise of replenishing population, but resulting in a drastic inequity in income. I am incubating a blistering opinion piece that probably will not see print because it will violate the requirement to be patriotic. 鈥擩.笔.

And this being America, all paths lead quickly to polarizing politics:

I just read your article on Airbnbs. I sit on the planning and zoning board for my quaint town. I appreciate what you have said and agree with you. However, I live in Florida, where local governments are no longer able to regulate tourist homes if it was not already in their code. The state also recently just passed a law that preempts local governments from banning home based businesses like massage parlors and vehicle repair shops. Just wanted to let you know what our POS governor is doing to us in Florida. He is single handedly making lives of every citizen worse off.听

It terms of poetic brevity, this letter wins first prize:

Why does your article have ads for Airbnb? Pretty weird.

Got a question of your own? Mad as hell about something Sundog wrote? Send a note to: sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

The post Canceling My Campsite Allows Someone to Use It. But There’s a Fee. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.