Heard Around the West
MONTANA
For 30 years,
says biologist Charles Jonkel, he’s tried to
educate people about grizzlies and black bears. He started an
International Wildlife Film Festival in Missoula, Mont., 28 years
ago to spread the word that ethical standards were needed for
making films about the animals. Nonetheless, he says,
thrill-seeking has gained ever-wider prominence, with some wanna-be
biologists even calling themselves "bear-whisperers." Writing in
Bear News, the publication of the Missoula-based Great Bear
Foundation, of which he’s president, Jonkel offers a stirring
call to wildlife biologists to "arise," to accept their
responsibility as educators and to challenge pseudo
bear-researchers and what he calls "wildlife trash media." All
exploit bears for profit, Jonkel says, and give the public the
false idea that bears are cuddly critters that want a relationship
with us.
CALIFORNIA
A
39-year-old camper in the Angeles National Forest learned
the hard way that black bears don’t like being interrupted
when they’re eating. The camper wanted to distract the bear,
which was rummaging through the family’s food chest at 2
a.m., so his wife and two daughters could make a break for their
car. So he threw something at the bear; this, the bear did not
appreciate. "He (the bear) swatted at him, and that threw the man
against the picnic table," reports The Associated Press. The bear
resumed its search for food, allowing the man to escape with only
minor cuts to his chest. The state Game and Fish Department said it
would kill the bear for being aggressive.
COLORADO
Our favorite police blotter
column lately is "Crime Waves" from the Four Corners Free
Press in Cortez, Colo. Often, erratic drivers pulled over by police
just give up and flat-out tell the truth. Two examples: A man
stopped for driving too fast told police he would not bother to
attempt sobriety maneuvers because, he confessed, "I’m
drunk." Another man who ran a stop sign explained that "he did not
have time to stop because he was in a hurry."
IDAHO
A Western scourge no longer
speaks for the region. Aryan Nations founder Richard
Butler, who insisted on being called by the honorific "pastor,"
died recently at age 86. For 30 years, Butler spewed hatred against
Jews, African-Americans and other minorities until his bankruptcy
in 2000 put a crimp in his neo-Nazi activities. According to the
AP, Butler’s legacy may be the opposite of what he stood for.
To counteract his influence, Idaho passed tough laws against
malicious harassment and adopted a Martin Luther King Jr.-Human
Rights holiday. And in Boise, a memorial financed by private
contributions opened in 2002 to celebrate the life of Holocaust
victim Anne Frank. Politicians also backed a slogan of tolerance to
counteract Butler’s whites-only ideology: "Idaho, Too Great
to Hate."
COLORADO
Firefighters in Delta, Colo., recently parted with their
old yellow fire truck. It was considered an "ugly
duckling," and would almost tip over when a fully equipped
200-pound firefighter jumped on board. But the truck, which
featured a 55-foot extension ladder, helped train some 60
firefighters during its 21 years of service, and carried one
firefighter’s wedding party down Main Street, reports the
Mountain Valley News. Firefighter Radford Mansker, who liked to
prepare and polish the yellow vehicle for the Deltarado Days
parades, says he felt sorry for the truck because it wasn’t
red like the others. Embarrassing or not, he admits, "I liked it!"
Really liking the truck these days is the Artesia Fire Department,
which welcomed it to a new home in Dinosaur, Colo., population 324.
Delta now sports a shiny red truck that "needs no pity."
THE WEST
Get ready for the
$115,000 CXT, International Truck’s 21-feet long,
14,500 pound "ultimate toy for extreme work and play." "If you
brought this truck to the playground, you’d be king of the
dirt pile," boasts the manufacturer. All of this
"aggro-macho-gluttonous" hype for a gas-guzzling behemoth
infuriated San Francisco Chronicle columnist Mark Morford. Morford
said this newest monster truck —"the size of a large studio
apartment" — symbolizes what we’re doing all over the
world, so, "Let’s just get it over with. Let’s just
give in and stomp around like we own the goddamn place and burn up
all the remaining oil as fast as possible, maul the roads and gag
the air and wipe out all those silly Priuses and Mini Coopers and
all those annoying gnatlike bicycles …" In Hell, he
concluded, "it’s all off road."
Betsy
Marston is editor of Writers on the Range, a service of High
Country News in Paonia, Colorado. Tips of Western oddities are
shared in the column, Heard around the
West.