Posted inOctober 29, 2007: Which Way West

Another near-death experience for environmentalism

Where were you the day environmentalism died?  It was Oct. 6, 2004, when social researchers and environmental policy strategists Ted Nordhaus and Michael Shellenberger instigated the world’s greenest catfight by distributing their essay The Death of Environmentalism at a meeting of the Environmental Grantmakers Association. The pamphlet charged that the environmental movement had become just […]

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Truckers or skiers, take your pick

Any conversation about the West’s dangerous interstate highways might explore why more truckers don’t use I-90 or I-70, instead of Wyoming’s infamous I-80, which stretches across the southern part of the state. Given Interstate 80’s high altitude and snow-prone disposition, plus forecasts that traffic will increase to over 14,000 vehicles a day, everyone should be […]

Posted inWotr

How many nuclear bombs do we need?

“When I became conscious, it was a dead city.” The college students in the room are silent as Shigeko Sasamori stands in front of them. It looks as though she wears light pink lipstick. Up close, the scars around her mouth, neck and hands are clearly visible. The morning American pilots dropped an atomic bomb […]

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A watershed proposal

Colorado’s Cache la Poudre River tumbles 80 miles from its high-alpine headwaters in Rocky Mountain National Park down to the South Platte River on the plains below. The upper Poudre is the only designated wild and scenic river in the state – but after it exits Poudre Canyon, 90 percent of its flow is siphoned […]

Posted inWotr

Sometimes the priceless really is priceless

Most of us have seen those credit-card ads that go something like “Fishing license, $40. Fly casting gear, $480. Reeling in a rainbow trout in the wilderness under a 14,000-foot peak: Priceless.” But dollar signs can be associated with these “priceless” activities. Let’s start with the rainbow trout. Rainbows are native to the West Coast, […]

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The West is always wild to the young

The thing I remember most about winter in the mountains above a town in New Mexico called Las Vegas was the silence. At times, it was so quiet that, as a sheepherder from Montana pointed out, you could hear snowflakes slap against the pines. The sheepherder and I were fellow pilgrims whose lives intersected along […]

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