We need to fight for our places
The Washington Post published an article today that examines the growing violence of off-road vehicle recreationists. The article 'Off-Road Rage' Climbs as Trails Get More Crowded sparked an interesting discussion in the comment thread. One comment in particular caught my attention. A hiker going by the handle “tharmon” wrote, "My solution to this issue has been to confine my hiking trips to places where vehicles of any kind cannot go."
But that reaction is really part of the problem.
When off-roaders discover an area and begin using it, the very nature of their sport involves drastically altering the area they move into. In a sense, the more they use it, the more it becomes "developed." A meadow becomes a mud bog. A stream or wash becomes a race course. The fact that the off-roaders are drastically altering the place gives them a sense of "ownership." That sense of ownership, in turn, gives them a strong motivation to fight to keep motorized access open whenever agency actions threaten to close it.
More specifically, in many places motorized users drive off the trail creating their own renegade routes. Then, when the agencies go to regulate use, off-roaders perceive any effort to close these renegade routes as taking away their rights and access. In all too many instances, the agency doesn't have the capacity to fight that, and they designate these unauthorized, and in many instances, illegally-created routes as new legal routes on the formal system.
Unlike the off-road vehicle users, hikers and other quiet-users, (hunters, anglers, bird watchers, horseback riders, etc.) don't alter a place very much by our use — we don't leave our mark on a place. We love a natural place for what it is in and of itself, not because of the changes we’ve made to it or because it is now ours. Later, when off-roaders discover one of these places and begin to scar it up, to develop it, the place becomes less desirable for hikers, other quiet users, and wildlife. In a sense, it becomes defiled. And we tend to simply abandon it in favor of some other place that off-roaders have yet to discover or, as in tharmon's case, where topography simply prevents them from ever gaining access. In too many instances, we don’t fight, we just move on.
The agencies understand this dynamic very well. They know which group is going to fight over a place and which one is going to retreat, like wildlife, off into the shrinking bits of wild territory that have yet to fall victim to the rapacious ORV invasion.
Quiet users and those concerned about environmental impacts need to stop abandoning the places we love and fight to protect areas for non-motorized recreation, clean water and wildlife. We constitute more than 90% of people using the public deserts and forests. Yet only a small fraction of those lands are managed to protect non-motorized interests and ecological integrity. Increasingly, the agencies are managing the land specifically for the benefit of off-road vehicles. For a good example of just how one-sided federal management is getting check out this Salt Lake Tribune editorial today, No management plan: BLM makes gift of land to off-roaders, drillers.
But that reaction is really part of the problem.
When off-roaders discover an area and begin using it, the very nature of their sport involves drastically altering the area they move into. In a sense, the more they use it, the more it becomes "developed." A meadow becomes a mud bog. A stream or wash becomes a race course. The fact that the off-roaders are drastically altering the place gives them a sense of "ownership." That sense of ownership, in turn, gives them a strong motivation to fight to keep motorized access open whenever agency actions threaten to close it.
More specifically, in many places motorized users drive off the trail creating their own renegade routes. Then, when the agencies go to regulate use, off-roaders perceive any effort to close these renegade routes as taking away their rights and access. In all too many instances, the agency doesn't have the capacity to fight that, and they designate these unauthorized, and in many instances, illegally-created routes as new legal routes on the formal system.
Unlike the off-road vehicle users, hikers and other quiet-users, (hunters, anglers, bird watchers, horseback riders, etc.) don't alter a place very much by our use — we don't leave our mark on a place. We love a natural place for what it is in and of itself, not because of the changes we’ve made to it or because it is now ours. Later, when off-roaders discover one of these places and begin to scar it up, to develop it, the place becomes less desirable for hikers, other quiet users, and wildlife. In a sense, it becomes defiled. And we tend to simply abandon it in favor of some other place that off-roaders have yet to discover or, as in tharmon's case, where topography simply prevents them from ever gaining access. In too many instances, we don’t fight, we just move on.
The agencies understand this dynamic very well. They know which group is going to fight over a place and which one is going to retreat, like wildlife, off into the shrinking bits of wild territory that have yet to fall victim to the rapacious ORV invasion.
Quiet users and those concerned about environmental impacts need to stop abandoning the places we love and fight to protect areas for non-motorized recreation, clean water and wildlife. We constitute more than 90% of people using the public deserts and forests. Yet only a small fraction of those lands are managed to protect non-motorized interests and ecological integrity. Increasingly, the agencies are managing the land specifically for the benefit of off-road vehicles. For a good example of just how one-sided federal management is getting check out this Salt Lake Tribune editorial today, No management plan: BLM makes gift of land to off-roaders, drillers.
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