Occupation of Independence

I am at it again: questioning the sanity of a large industry. But this time, at least, I heard similar thoughts from other people. I recently took a training course on handling a UTV (or ROHV) safely. (Those are the car-like "ATVs", typically with side-by-side seating.) For the life of me, I can't understand why anyone would waste their money on something that just isn't that much fun. Fast motion is fun for a human being -- but for how long? Because of accidents, regulators have now smothered the machines in safety equipment. I felt panic when I first put that damn full-face helmet on. In fairness, that went away pretty quickly, and it was not as hot as first thought. But my prescription bifocal sunglasses could not sit on my head right, because of that bloody helmet. The bifocal line obscured my vision. (Only a government safety regulator could design something that ruins your vision, and then call it "safety" equipment.)  Almost every aspect of

What do you know?! I actually sold something on Craigslist. I still have yet to buy something on Craigslist. Actually the whole process was confidence-inspiring. My "old" bike (10 months old) took a month of patience to finally sell. The next day I went to the bike store and surrendered to my basest instincts. That is, I bought a new Trek Full Stache. It is sometimes called the monster truck of mountain bikes. Big tires roll over stuff easily. It is that simple. I smiled and almost giggled as I took this monster on a test ride, and deliberately chose bad "lines" through rocky obstacles, and felt the bike shrug it off. It was gratifying to be rewarded for ignoring much of the nonsense on the internet. Unless you understand what the reviewer's agenda or perspective is, you simply don't know whether to believe them or not.  Young male reviewers are almost always full of crap. They are not shrewd consumers. And their prose is unreadable! They make a s

It is not often that something cheerful happens in the arena of public lands management. Normally I avoid the topic because it is just too discouraging. But there is a bill in Congress that empowers public land managers to regulate mountain bikes in Wilderness areas , instead of just the blanket ban that has existed in the past, probably from some judge's decision. I consider this good news because Americans need more access to the huge blocks of land set aside as Wilderness areas. Go to a trailhead outside a Wilderness and you might see two cars parked. Backpackers. That is just too much land for one sport. But look how crowded the non-Wilderness areas are getting! America is getting over-populated, after all. Only a tiny fraction of Wilderness areas would be affected by the legislation.  Most of that type of land is simply too rugged for a human-powered, wheeled machine. And yet the Greenie groups will oppose this legislation. There is no way to argue with religious

Have you noticed how tourism/travel literature always shows blue skies in its postcards? Who the hell wants blue skies all the time! It is that time of year again, when aridity and blue skies and sunlight become oppressive.   But this morning there were clouds, merciful clouds. Granted they were not the picturesque clouds that the Southwest gets during the summer monsoon season. But don't think I'm complaining. It is worth suffering through the wildfire season, when your skin and fingernails slough off your body, and your hair turns to dry straw, just to experience the bliss of the monsoons. Strictly speaking, it wasn't the clouds that were so glorious, it was the shade. In June I would rhapsodize over shade caused by anything. Dogs agree with this opinion! Archive: the Southwestern sun in June was even too much for the Little Valiant One.

This summer, readers are likely to hear me rhapsodize over soft sagebrush hills and their shadows at dawn and dusk. And more times than they need. It didn't even take one day to start mooning and swooning. But shifting my view to the forested top of a high hill, it was easy to be almost troubled by it. The green forest seemed to be slowly sloughing off the top of the hill, causing it to invade my sagebrush hills. It is strange to think of a forest on the march. Oh sure, Macbeth reminds us, "Fear not, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane." Or maybe it was the news and photos of the creeping malevolence of lava on the Big Island of Hawaii. It was certainly a reminder of how important it is for the observer to properly prepared, in order to be strongly affected by "beauty", which would in fact become boring rather quickly, otherwise.  Earlier in the day my dog and I had slowly seeped up that 1500 feet or so of hill, on the mountain bike. At sunset, some o