Day Twenty-eight – Final Day and Ready for More

If you had asked me a month ago if I thought I could ride a bicycle loaded down with 50 pounds of gear 725 miles all across the plains of Montana and then up into the Rockies, my answer most likely would have been doubtful.  To propose doing all that in just a few weeks was, in my mind, rather an insane proposition. (Though I thought I’d try it anyway.)

Or if you had come to me before this course pondering what kinds of impacts climate change was having on ranchers and farmers in the west, or what all the different types of renewables were, and their benefits and potential, I would have perhaps furrowed my brow slightly, shrugged, and thought to myself, “I wish I knew the answer.”

And if anyone had asked me a little over 28 days ago where Tumbarumba was located or what a chin-wag entailed, I probably would have laughed jovially while thinking to myself either that they were being very silly or had just completely lost it.

It’s amazing how much can change in a month.

I’d say now without hesitation that I’d cycle across Montana again in a heartbeat.  Perhaps I’d even join Adam, one of our amazing filmmakers, in his suggestion to do our entire route again, but entirely on rumble strips, just for something different…  Or why stop with Montana when there’s a whole continent to bike across?!

Tumbarumba and chin-wag (as well as all variants of chin-wag, including chin-wagging, chin-waggery, and chin-wagacious) have become a part of my everyday vocabulary.  For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, Tumbarumba is a small town in Australia, and is in fact the abode of our very own Aussie, Flick; and a ‘chin-wag’ is naught but a clever term for having a conversation. 

And as to what I now know about energy and climate change, I think our final presentation yesterday at the Whitefish Public Library attested to that.  I think it may have been the first time that I ever wished I had more time to talk about a topic; and anyone who knows me knows that that’s really saying something, as I am inherently quiet and tend to keep my verbal outages to a minimum.

Apart from myself, it was amazing to see how much everyone else in the group had learned, and how excited we have all become to engage with the topics of energy and climate change.  It was a good feeling to be presenting to a public audience and having them actually ask questions about the issues that they really wanted to be informed about, and not only that, but for us all to be able to give them answers. 

Driving back to Missoula today from Whitefish (yes, that’s right, driving not biking) seemed unreal.  Aside from the fact that it just felt weird not to be traveling by bicycle anymore, there was a sudden sense that it was all over.  Tomorrow we all go our separate ways.  And yet, as I thought about it more, I realized that it is really far from over, for any of us.  For me at least, this is only the beginning.

I think we’re all walking away from this experience with more than we ever expected to, whether it is knowledge about green building practices and renewable energy, about how to do an interview on-camera, or just Dave’s advice to “never eat anything bigger than our head.”  Whatever it is, I hope we all continue to share our talents with the world and to help build the communities that will get us through the plethora of changes that are occurring rapidly in the world all around us. 

–Patrick Walden, University of British Columbia

Day Twenty-seven – Reflecting after 725 Miles

Today is the second to last day and we had one final, beautiful bike ride.  We biked from Apgar Campground in Glacier National Park to Whitefish, Montana where we will be giving a presentation about our trip.  And what a spectacular trip it has been.

Leora found us an amazing home to stay at in Whitefish with Dave Whisenand, a good friend of hers.  Cory and Patrick cooked the last WRFI prepared meal, and what a meal it was!  A curry dish! My favorite! My vote for the best WRFI meal of the trip, hands down.  

As I ponder how close the end of the trip is an interesting feeling suddenly comes over me.  It is exciting to think about what we just accomplished biking 725 miles across the state and to finally have time to really digest and go over the immense amount of knowledge we have been feeding our brain.  On the other hand, it is sad that the group will be separating and the long bike trip is over.  Spending a month on a bicycle with such amazing people for month is the absolute best way to live!

In addition, going home will offer opportunities to share what we have learned.  Opportunities for saving our climate and ourselves as a species exist that many people may not even be aware of.  To be able to be the facilitators of change is quite a position to hold.  Talking with people is such a unique opportunity but can present its own challenges as well.  The students will need to be conscience not to hop on a soap box and start lecturing people.  Instead, encourage people and help enlighten them to the opportunities that are available.  What I would like to do is speak to the pleasure of living a life that consumes as little as possible.  For example, bicycling around for transportation is an awesome option.  People schedule time to go on bike rides for exercise and recreation.  Biking for transportation, short and long distances, incorporates exercise, recreation, efficient transportation and saving our planet all into one fun activity.  How can someone argue with the benefits of such a ubiquitous activity? 

Reducing our in home energy consumption is also important; this is globally beneficial and individually beneficial.  Living in a house that is specifically designed to use passive lighting, heating and cooling can reduce electric bills by up to 30%.  All of these can be done very easily with no extra cost, just a smart designer, like Ed Gulick or J.J. Green.  Another option is to use solar water heater; water tanks on top of roofs can be heated by the power of the sun.  This heating is free, after a relatively small initial investment, and will drastically reduce the amount of energy needed to heat the water to appropriate shower, washer and dishwasher temperatures.  These solar water heaters are readily available around the world and already being used by millions of people.  In third world countries people have been able to take their first warm showers ever because of these solar water heaters.  Will anyone argue cheap energy bills or warm showers for the less fortunate?  I do not think so, and it just so happens that these practices will help save our environment as well. 

So what does this all mean for those who are not in the market for a new house and already uses a bike as the main transportation vehicle? Well, it means going out and informing yourself and others about options that exist.  We can change our lives without changing our lifestyles.  This is very important for the many Americans who are accustomed to the comforts that exist in our country.  Living efficiently is a huge stride to affecting our energy demand. 

–Stephen Brown, University of Montana

 

Day Twenty-six – Biker’s Guide to the Continental Divide

Class discussion, papers, Lake Macdonald, ice cream, sunshine, laughter – a pocket of paradise. It only takes thirteen words to describe June 16^th, 2008. Our layover in West Glacier gave us the wealth of time: time to read, time to debate, time to rest, and most importantly time to reflect. In my time of reflection I appropriately compiled my Montanan discoveries into a guide – a guide now made available for your viewing pleasure.

So if you find yourself on the forested trails or be it the majestic mountains of Montana’s Glacier National Park, you are sure to encounter many wonderful things. After one of the greatest expeditions to venture through the land, battling Gaelic storms and love deprived barking dogs, I have synthesized the trips’ findings into a pleasant plethora of first-hand observations (from here on known as facts) to aid other travelers through their glorious treks. What follows is an initial summary:

ROADS: Be sure to use the legal standardized shoulder to your advantage – no shoulder may exceed the size of the average human hand (wherein districts one through four must designate half of each hand to the sacred rumble-strip). Also, make note of the free and sporadic time checks provided by carefully placed shards of glass along your most likely routes!

SHOPPING: Your best chance of survival requires the following diet: (in any order or combination of course) — peanut butter. Now hurry about the store grasping items at random and do a process of taste-bud elimination over the weeks to come.

PEOPLE: I’m sure you are very interesting, but the real reason why everyone talks to you is because they are Montanans. They are a resilient tribe that are currently battling and adapting to droughts, boom-and-bust cycles, and decreased water supplies. Their struggles have made me conceptualize the future. In this future the least advantaged groups of society are strengthened and supported through institutions developed to help them adapt, instead of allowing them to succumb to escalating catastrophes. There is, in this future, a stronger social cohesion due to the greater efforts of broader society to achieve equality and thus produce a situation wherein people identify with larger social goals rather than their own immediate interests.

SLEEPING: Be sure that all traveling bicyclers have brought some form of a human cocoon (a sleeping bag will do), wherein, an air hole of 5 cm in diameter allows potential survival. This is necessary to prevent a full transfusion of your blood type into the local genetically modified mosquitoes (talk about resilience!). Also, provide proper spacing between resting bikers in order to avoid excess methane concentrations.

EATING: Now that your metabolism is four times your own body weight, you will need to adjust accordingly. Follow this schedule for best results:

1.     Eat as soon as you rise for the day

2.     Consider your days agenda

3.     Eat again

4.     Do some form of activity for tow hours (while contemplating what to eat for lunch number one)

5.     Eat

6.     Search for the meaning of life

7.     Eat

8.     Sleep

9.     Repeat

Excessive? Ya I know, but hey! Every 100 calories of food moves the average biker three miles, yet only moves a car 268 feet! Eat up big fella!

PLACES TO GO: First stop is Lake MacDonald. Essentially it is gorgeous landscapes, quiet surroundings, and water temperatures that most penguins refuse. Next stop, Eddies. Now that you are dry and enjoying the sun you will proceed directly to Eddies Ice Cream stand and ask for one scoop (which in West Glacier terms directly translates as three baseball sized balls of concentrated sugar).

        ————

Alright, you are now a competent individual ready to roll into town. Pack your bags and hit the road – being mindful of the friendly bear population – and paying royalties to me of course (checks will do) as you utilize these astonishing observations.

–Cory Zyla, University of British Columbia

Day Twenty-five – Father’s Day

Father’s day, an annual event dedicated for the sons and daughters of the world to appreciate and reflect on the male mentor figure in our lives and the role he played in shaping who we are. The day might be celebrated with a hug, a gift, or a dinner outing to his eatery of choice, all of which are hard to do when the subject of celebration is in a galaxy, far, far away. A lack of battery and limited cell phone service made it hard to get in contact with those beloved stand up pee-ers, but in our own way we still celebrated the special day.

 

Any man that cares for a child wants him or her to be happy. He wants to be proud of the organism he aided in culturing to once again prove the wonders of evolution, and see them succeed in achieving their dreams. June 15th, 2008 turned out to be a day that would make a man, no matter where he may be, smile and nod knowing his girl or boy had the opportunity to live the day like we did.

 

The offspring of twelve men with impressive genetic material began their epic day in East Glacier, a town with a gateway to Glacier National Park, a plethora of inns, and a campground/RV park that was unofficially run by an elderly woman in an RV who had her eye on us at all times.

 

Perfect weather played a large role in the enjoyment of the day. Rather than what we could have had – fog, rain, clouds, and wind – blue bird skies and a light breeze sustained our high spirits from sunrise to sunset. Marias Pass, a fairly busy road would take us fifty-five miles to West Glacier with a substantial net loss in elevation. The pass was gorgeous, for lack of a more masculine term, and had us hooting and hollering to express our ecstasy as we cruised West across the Continental Divide. Every turn brought us rolling through another postcard. Freight trains chugged alongside us, carving their own path through the Lodge Pole Pine trees covering the shins of snow capped mountains. Below us, the Middle Fork of the Flathead River winded its way around the ancient masses of rock as the melting snow draining off of their steep slopes sent a flow of cool moist air across our faces when the road crossed a drainage. We stopped to admire mountain goats licking the salty rocks above the river, and healthy waterfalls that served as reminders to Montana’s record setting amount of precipitation that has blessed the state thus far. The multiple lunch breaks were long and leisurely. Why rush when we were in such a picturesque place?

 

Upon arriving to the park, a bike path guided us to a code speaking granny park ranger who hooked us up with the royal treatment, a campsite that could accommodate all of us. A delicious dinner complements of Lauren and Pat preceded a group discussion to put together the groundworks for our presentation in Whitefish at the public library. An hour long talk to a willing audience will have us reflect on our acquired knowledge and experiences. With a little bit of prodding, the valuable insight gained over the last month spilled out to the interest of each one of us as we began to plan what we will say. Whether it is an understanding of agricultures impacts on the land, or the process of how to increase energy efficiency, I could tell everyone will have something to say worth hanging on to every word.

 

The father figures of all my nine field mates, the two instructors, and both film makers should be beaming at what has been accomplished so far. As I grow closer to these friends like a tire on a road I could not imagine a more fun group of people to cycle the rockies with. Our hard work and willingness to learn and work in this environment will no doubt serve us down the road in striving to reach our goals. Our adventure has been exciting, eventful, and rewarding. You could even say it was worth documenting.

 

Happy Father’s Day.

 

PS. Mom, I am sorry I forgot Mother’s Day, I will make it up to you.

 

Love Phil 

–Phil Fandel, University of Vermont

 

Day Twenty-four – Racing Toward the Challenge

 The saying goes; the early bird gets the worm. We’re up at 6:30 a.m. and on the road avoiding traffic, headwinds and that nagging sense you’re running a bit behind – a sense I rarely avoid. As I struggle to keep pace, the morning fog clears to the west where the whit-capped Rockies stand waiting. The view is picturesque: still, silent, majestic, and coming ever closer, ever larger and ever more real. Yes, we must cross these snow-capped mountains with only the power of our ever growing thighs – but we’re early, we’re smiling and we’re racing toward the challenge. 





 

Forty miles later we find ourselves sprawled all over the concrete pad that is the entrance to the Thriftway supermarket. We’re chatting with locals, drying our clothes, shamelessly rubbing our rear ends and devouring enough food to feed a small country. Browning is a unique town in a unique setting; so rich in natural beauty and so poor in economic standing. These people have watched a gorgeous land be transformed into a land of inequality, an inequality all to clear to them. We pack our things and hit the road staring forward at the mountain peaks.





 

Sometimes a challenge looms so large you forget to see its beauty. You forget that challenging days of rain produce stunning snow peaked mountains, and long steep climbs reap fantastic views. As we point our bikes into the mountains we see the climb and all its grandeur. We’re early, smiling and racing toward the challenge.





 

Climate change is no different. An uphill battle still awaits us, but this challenge too can be beautiful.





 

Change will undoubtedly occur, but we have an unprecedented opportunity to come together as one – as humanity- to take it on. We already have a plethora of solutions that help us conserve and save money. We have beautiful green house gas neutral technology that is on the verge of out competing traditional fossil fuels. We finally have valid economic reasons to help ourselves by helping alleviate poverty because of fortuitous siting of the globe’s renewable resources. It seems too perfect and too fitting that the twenty poorest counties in the nation are also the windiest, and the sunniest. We can lift these people from poverty and give them resilience to the changes coming, and they can share with us the energy to try again, to make a new, more equal and more thoughtful start. One day we might solve problems as individuals, as communities, and with humanity.





 

However, this window for connecting through crisis is not always going to be open. If we continue to turn our backs on a problem we’ve created for the rest of the world, the rest of the world will have good reason to turn their backs on us. Good thing there are twelve inspiring people pumping up the hill before me. We’re early, smiling, and racing toward the challenge.

 

JJ Green, University of Oregon

Day Twenty-two – Time to Stop

In Africa, if your ride breaks down you stop. When it rains, and the lorry (big cattle truck) gets bogged up to the axles in mud you just unload it and sit by the side of the road and wait for the rain to stop and the road to dry out. It’s like a forced time out. There is nothing you can do about it so there is no point complaining about it. There is a beauty in this that we have lost in our society. The concept of waiting for three days for a road to dry out is, for the most part, incomprehensible to us. Unless, of course, you are on a bike. Today we woke up to wind and rain, pounding (thankfully) outside. We were fortunate to have moved from one wonderful host to the next and are now safely camped inside the abode of Dawn and Lyle Baker. In the Montanan tradition we were perhaps getting a little too accustomed to, welcomed us with open arms. With the 8 mile ride of yesterday still fresh in our minds where the winds were blowing so hard we were literally nearly blown off the road, an executive decision was made to stop and pause for the day. Instead of loading up the bikes and trudging into the wet and cold, we instead made ourselves perfectly comfortable around Dawn and Lyle’s kitchen table and enjoyed what was voted, by the whole group, the “best french toast EVER”.

We used our day off the road as a day of rest, and to start our latest assignment: to write a citizen letter to someone in a decision – making position, voicing our concerns and suggestions from what we have garnered from our journey thus far across Montana. We also utilized the benefits of electricity to watch a video presentation on the effects of climate change already affecting Glacier National Park – our next big destination, providing the trusty steads aren’t out of action for another day. In class we discussed this presentation, and the impacts climate change is having already, and is likely to have in the not-very-distant-at-all future.

Putting it bluntly, the big picture stuff is frightening. We can say goodbye to glaciers in Glacier National Park by 2030. The ramifications this has for the immediate flora and fauna of this area is large, But even larger is the extended ecosystem consequences that make me want to bury my head in the sand ostrich style. Before we all went out into Lyle’s wheat paddock and slit our proverbial wrists the conversation shifted to our roles in all of this. For me, I have to think small, because I don’t see solutions on a large scale. I see the small solutions that fit into that larger one though. I was thinking, again, about the possibility of solar. I was thinking of that lorry in Kenya that had already been waiting for the mud to dry for two days, and I thought of how the people sitting there waiting could at least grab their cell phone and give their relatives a call to let them know where they were. Sometime soon, hopefully these same people will get to their village and be able to collect their water from the community well that their solar pump has pumped there for them, rather than the sweat of 10 of the local village boys. Just as the communications infrastructure totally bypassed land lines in Africa, I can’t see why renewable technologies such as solar won’t allow the same thing to happen in the energy sector…bypass the grid and provide local power to local villages so they can recharge their phones to let the relative know the lorry is 3 days late.

In Montana we have seen many examples of individuals powering their own already efficient houses with renewable power from the wind and sun. From what I have seen of Montana so far I’d be leaving the solar to Africa and running with the wind idea. No shortage of that from what I can see! So I plucked that head of mine right back out of the sand and went for a drive with Lyle to see his dry land wheat operation and some birds at the lake down the road. This was offset (in mind only) by our chefs for the evening biking into town to purchase supplies, rather than accepting the kind offer of Lyle’s to drive in the pickup. After all it was a day off, so it was not like we could use the excuse of no time for a ride.

–Felicity “Flick” Anderson, University of Queensland

Day Twenty-one – Community Resilence in the Face of Climate Change

There’s nothing more refreshing than than a nice bike ride to the library on a mid-June afternoon… unless you get caught in a blizzard on your way there. As I cycled through Choteau, cold white flakes soaking my face, I thought it ironic that it should snow just as we were discussing the impacts of global warming in the US west, notably, as the title of one of our readings espoused, and as we have been hearing from ranchers along the way, hotter and drier conditions.

This morning, Pete Larson, who works for the Nature Conservancy in Alaska and is joining us for a few days, talked to us for a bit about the impacts of climate change as it is occurring in Alaska. To summarize: over the past 50 years, temperatures have risen an average of 1.4ｰF and are predicted to rise over 8ｰF in the next 40 years. As an indicator of what kinds of impacts a changing climate will have, last summer alone, the amount of Arctic sea ice decreased by half. In Alaska, as in other areas, changes in sea level, accelerated coastal erosion, wildfires, and an increased likelihood of “extreme weather events,” are negatively affecting infrastructure to such an extent that it will be necessary for the state of Alaska alone to put aside about $12.6 billion to deal with these climate-change-related changes between now and 2030. Climate change is also having large effects on the environment and wildlife, and changes are especially being noted and felt by older Native community members.

Pete recommended a combination of adaptation and mitigation strategies to deal with changes, emphasizing adaptation overall as the better strategy, but still noting that a balance between the two is necessary to adjust to our changing world. Pete also talked a bit about cap and trade, which is a market-based method of controlling greenhouse gas emissions, in which a limit, or cap, is put on the amount of emissions allowed, and permits are given or sold to companies to allow them to emit a certain amount, with the total amount of emissions permits given adding up to the cap amount. These emissions credits may be traded to other companies if one is below the required pollution limit, and another is above the limit.

This evening, after a short but very windy bike ride, we arrived at Lyle and Dawn Baker’s farm where we were welcomed with the same warm hospitality that we have come to expect from the people who have so generously allowed us to stay in their homes all across Montana. Stephen promptly went to play with the two kids while the rest of us milled about the kitchen in anticipation of dinner, which turned out to be homemade chili and cornbread. Delicious! We also had a short tour of their farm, peeking in on the chickens, letting the mule and horse out to graze, inhaling the all-too-familiar odor of manure, and taking in the giant woodpile stacked in the yard which is fed by Cottonwood from the city that would otherwise be thrown away, but is now used instead to fuel a wood stove in Lyle and Dawn’s home. The night wound down with a spirited musical session, with Cory singing and strumming a guitar, myself on the piano, and Leora making a bow dance across the strings of a violin. I am always impressed by the wonderful talents that each person in our little community has to offer. It is even more amazing what can happen when talents are combined. Similarly, in the larger world, we need to make sure we share our talents and our knowledge with others in our community so that we may become more aware and work together to best respond to the changes that are rapidly occurring in our world today.

–Patrick Walden, University of British Columbia

Day Twenty – Snow on a Summer’s Day

Choteau has been one of my favourite towns so far. We spent the night in the wonderfully hospitable surrounds of Eric Bergman’s house for the second night in a row and were treated to a venison bbq with half the population of Choteau. There is something about country towns and the people who inhabit them that is totally unique and special. Where else could you engage in a combination game of telephone / charades with half a room of strangers, after a summer’s day in the snow, following an amazing BBQ from someone you had only met the previous day; and end rolling around on the floor laughing like you were all the oldest of friends?

Today was spent out at Pine Butte Preserve, owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy (TNC). Located in the area known as the Rocky Mountain Front, this is where the plains meet the Rockies, and it was a truly spectacular place. In being charged with management of the preserve and encouraging conservation across the broader landscape for such outcomes as grizzly bear population survival, TNC has a very important role in this landscape. Mark Korte, the land steward for TNC’s Pine Butte Preserve, told us that he works with ranchers to facilitate practices that encourage the maintenance of this bear habitat. TNC also pays ranchers for conservation easements to ensure critical parcels of land for their conservation targets are protected in perpetuity. Through integrating conservation into ranching operations, this allows for landscape-wide protection of processes and habitats that would otherwise not be protected solely on the 13,000 acres owned by TNC.

As we sat on a knoll taking in the incredible landscape Mark was explaining to us, jackets were being zipped tighter, and hats pulled down further as the nippy wind that had been blowing all morning became decidedly colder. We went to the old Pine Butte School for lunch and huddled rather closely to warm up again. Outside, it began to snow. The beginning of summer and it was snowing. I was reasonably incredulous. We are studying climate change and its impacts on a West that is supposed to be getting hotter and drier and it is SNOWING in June. The old climate change theory must surely be a myth. Surely.

Except that what we witnessed and felt (or rather didn’t feel in the case of some sandal clad toes) was not so much the effects of climate change, but rather aberrations in the weather of a mountain system. With the unusual rainfall thus far for spring and cold weather into June, it could be easy to dismiss the warming theories. However, climate is essentially long term weather patterns so our cold day today is but a short term blip in the long term climate patterns. NRDC’s publication, “Hotter and Drier: the West’s Changed Climate” points out that the American West is likely to be the hardest hit by climate changes. Studies of temperature over the past 100 years has shown a rise in temp for the region of 1.7oF greater than the global temperature rise, and a snowy day in June does nothing to disprove this.

This beautiful landscape, and many more totally unlike it, were the link between the energy efficiencies, renewable technologies and fossil fuel industries we have focused on in the course thus far. As we now start to look at climate change in our studies, this is what connects it all. The rural towns we have been passing through, the beautiful landscapes and all this talk on energy conservation and alternative, renewable energy systems. Looking up to the mountains above and the plains below all this beauty is at stake. More than that even.

This place’s people, like Mark and the ranchers he is working with, are in an unenviable position. Will the grizzly habitat of today that they are working so hard to protect be the same in 50, even 20 years time? Are the conservation efforts of today going to be rendered useless because the magnitude of change will mean grizzly habitat is forced further up into the mountains, or north into Canada? Or will the possibilities and changes suggested in earlier parts of the course come into play soon enough to have some effect?

Hard to say, but the community conservation outlined by Mark gives us at least a path to head down no matter what the consequences, intended or otherwise, of climate change. Community conservation.

–Felicity “Flick” Anderson, University of Queensland

Day Twenty-three – Coming to Terms

Leaving a good thing is a mighty difficult thing to do. After a full day of rest, lively conversation, and the intensive consumption of delicious food, riding away from the Baker house was like putting down a half-eaten bowl of vanilla ice-cream with rhubarb sauce. It’s just not done. But all good things must end they say, and as I settled into the saddle and felt the early-afternoon sun warm my cheeks, I looked towards a 35 mile day with clear skies and relatively inconsistent headwinds.Along the way to our final destination of Dupuyer, we stopped by the tiny town of Bynum to lunch on the grass by the Two Medicine Dinosaur Center. Munching on our usual lunch items (peanut butter in abundance), we were surprised by an impromptu lecture by Paleontologist David Trexler, who works at the dinosaur center and is currently nearing the completion of a book on climate change. Mr. Trexler explained to us how he is trying to bring to light the importance of looking at the Earth’s climate much further back in time than scientists are currently doing. He also expressed the importance of relating this data to current climate change and understanding how climate change millions of years ago may have wiped out the dinosaurs.Some of Mr. Trexler’s comments sparked a discussion amongst the group about how climate change may be the end of human civilization. People living on Earth could end up going extinct, just as many species have done before us. To some, this may seem like a grim outlook, but I see it as a fascinating prospect. Isn’t it amazing to ponder the possibility of zero human existence on planet earth? What would our world look like? If you’ve been influenced by some deep ecology philosophy like I have, you’ll understand that the planet will happily persist without us. And I think that’s amazing.I also see the possibility of climate-change induced human extinction as sort of comforting. My rational is that global climate change is too large of an issue for any one person to solve (I believe it’s been termed “mind-numbing” by several people on this course). Even if it is solvable, some people speculate that we may have already crossed an irreversible threshold. I think we forget that a lot of the time, and end up feeling apathetic about climate change instead of actually doing anything constructive about it. No one is particularly motivated by doomsday predictions, we’re just frightened by it, and then so desensitized, that hearing that all Glacier National Park’s glaciers will melt away in about the next twenty years doesn’t really faze us. So, what I’ve chosen to do, is accept that the worst might happen. The climate of our planet may change so drastically that humans are no longer able to live here. Understanding my mortality, and the mortality of civilization gives me the power to focus on making the time I do have on this planet as healthy and productive as possible for me and everyone else. I may not be able to save the human race from catastrophic climate change, but I may be able to promote the consumption of local foods, the use of CFLs, plant a tree, ride my bike across Montana to educate myself about climate change and energy issues in America, feed a homeless person, or protest the war in Iraq. Knowing that I can effect change, even if it is temporary, is empowering.I’m not afraid to do something about climate change. Are you?–Leora Stein, Whitman College

Day Nineteen – Victorious

As I awake to a beautiful blue sky and a shining morning sun I hear the sound of the flowing Missouri River. I let out a contented sigh. Oh how great it is to be back in the wilderness, away from the bustling concrete jungle which doesn’t compare to the beauty and calm of the wild!

We enjoy breakfast by the river, and as the clock strikes 8:00 am, panniers, Burley and Bobs packed and loaded, we pedal away from our camp. We are ready to take on our biggest mileage day yet…70 miles of gorgeous, thigh-burning, rolling hills where we will get our first glimpse of the Rocky Mountain Front.

Up and down we go, straining and cruising, sweating and smiling, inching along and racing at 46 MPH… we are feeling good! The wind runs through our hair (err..our helmets…), the sun shines upon us (err.. gives us Neapolitan tan lines), and we only stop occasionally to let the cows cross, to see who can walk on their hands the longest, or to feed our peanut butter addiction (which has inspired our invention of the peanut butter camel back- otherwise affectionately known as the “butter back”).

Around mile 39 I find myself in the middle of our giant pod (two pods restricts the closeness we now desire) rolling into Augusta, a quaint little town reminiscent of an old western movie. As I pedal through I look for a tumble weed to roll by as two outlaws draw their guns in a show down. We park ourselves at Mel’s Diner where “price is dependant on the customers attitude” and we all gorge ourselves with copious amounts of fried food and huckleberry ice cream.

After lunch we are off to the hills again, and curiously find them a bit more difficult with our overly stuffed bellies. Then, faster than any of us expected we are at the pinnacle of our sixty mile ride, at the top of a giant cliff overlooking the vast, gorgeous spectacle of land where the rockies meet the plains. I find myself overcome with the beauty and tranquility of the land that lies before me.

Ten miles of an adrenaline-rushing descent later we coast into Eric Bergman’s driveway where we will camp for the night, victorious in our pursuit. We celebrate by throwing ourselves on the ground and basking in the glorious sun.

Finally, we end this nearly perfect day with a great home cooked meal, a warm shower and a talk of hope, inspired by our new friend and environmental economist with The Nature Conservancy, Pete Larsen. And as I lay in my tent and listen to the soft patter of the rain hitting my tent before dozing off to sleep, I think of the inspiring people we’ve met and the positive change that is taking place in the world, and I realize how happy I am to be right here, right now.

Lauren Green, graduate of the University of San Diego