Outdoors

Environmental activist Lopi LaRoe is a provocateur and with her help Smokey the Bear is, too. The Occupy Wall Street veteran has been using Smokey’s likeness in a series of anti-fracking parodies that have gone viral enough to attraction the attention of Uncle Sam: Last week LaRoe received a letter threatening her with jail time and thousands of dollars in fines for enlisting Smokey to the anti-hydrofracturing cause. In the fall, LaRoe created an image of Smokey that altered his famous invective “Only you can prevent forest fires” to “Only you can prevent faucet fires” — a reference to the phenomenon of flaming taps that occasionally occur near where fracking takes place. The adjustment seemed to her in line with the message of conservation Smokey has come to embody. “This is the radicalization of Smokey the Bear,” said LaRoe. “This is Smokey waking up and saying, ‘Oh you didn’t do that to my environment.’ Smokey wants to fight the corporations and protect the air and the water and the plants and the animals and the people.” Her parody went viral. She began printing T-shirts at the insistence of friends on Facebook, but demand quickly surpassed those in her immediate circle of contacts. Soon she was packing Smokey in FedEx envelopes and sending him off to Australia and other far-flung places. There are also tote bags and patches with the Smokey meme available at LaRoe’s website. “It spread like wildfire,” she said. 6 MONTHS, $150,000 FINE? But not everyone is amused. LaRoe received a cease-and-desist letter from the Metis Group, which serves as legal counsel for the U.S. Forest Service, telling her that Smokey, his character, and his slogan are property of the U.S. government. She had until May 2 to halt the use of Smokey and stop distributing electronic copies of the meme. Otherwise, she faces up to six months in prison and a penalty as high as $150,000. “Any time anybody uses Smokey’s image for anything other than wildfire prevention,” said Helene Cleveland, fire prevention program manager for the Forest Service, “it confuses the public. What we’re trying to do is keep Smokey on message.” Cleveland added that the 1952 Smokey the Bear Act takes the character out of the public domain and “any change in that would have to go through Congress.”  Two other entities besides the Forest Service claim joint rights to Smokey. The National Association of State Foresters — a non-profit organization consisting of directors of U.S. forestry agencies — and the Ad Council. Remember “This is your brain on drugs”? Or the Indian weeping over pollution? They were the Ad Council’s handiwork. A non-profit, it describes itself as a promoter of “public service campaigns on behalf of non-profit organizations and government agencies” with a focus on “improving the quality of life for children, preventive health, education, community well being and strengthening families.” Smokey the Bear was born at the Ad Council, on the desk of abstract expressionist and Marx-influenced art critic Harold Rosenberg, who had a part time job there in the mid-1940s. Despite the warnings in the cease-and-desist letter she received, the May 2 deadline to shut down her site and retire her anti-fracking Smokey came and went; LaRoe has not ceased or desisted. Instead, she enlisted the help of her own legal counsel, who fired back with a letter to the Metis Group. In it, attorney Evan Sarzin argues that LaRoe ‘s culture-jamappropriation of Smokey is permissible under the fair-use exemption to exclusive copyright ownership and chides the Forest Service for attempting to infringe on LaRoe’s First Amendment rights. Sarzin also points out that this is not the first time the Forest Service has sought to silence environmentalists for appropriating Smokey’s image. In the early 1990s, the Forest Service demanded reparations from the Sante Fe-based conservation group LightHawk after it used Smokey’s likeness in ads critical of the agency’s practice of auctioning off land to ti

Since we last checked in the Brute Double Cab has carried us across Arizona spending most of the time in the Flagstaff area. The Life Untucked Tour got great insight into the Arizona market from key retailers such as Babbitt’s Backcountry in Flagstaff. With summer heating up in Arizona people are getting excited about our newer lines of synthetic and lightweight blended shorts, pants, and sun protective tops. Mountain Khakis Life Untucked Tour was one of 140 exhibitors to participate in the 2013 Overland Expo taking place at Mormon Lake Arizona (just South East of Flagstaff). The Overland Expo is an international event that educates and inspires people to get out and explore the world, by bike and vehicle. Mountain Khakis made a huge splash at the Expo, equipping everyone  with quality apparel built for mountain life. The Expo was a great success boasting over 80 free clinics to attendees including off road motorcycle riding instruction sponsored by BMW, and  an on-site overland driving course staffed by a dozen of the top overland driving skills trainers in the world sponsored by Land Rover. We got to meet the entire AEV team (American Expedition Vehicles), including the gentleman who hand built our Brute Double Cab. The quality and excellence which AEV is known for is apparent in their teams passion and dedication to innovation. Mountain Khakis quality, fit, and style spread like wildfire through the thousands of attendees at Overland Expo. We caught up with dedicated customers and broke the ice with new fans, We can’t wait for the next Expo!

In 2000, M. John Fayhee, a long-time reporter for Colorado’s Summit Daily News and contributing editor at Backpacker, Curtis Robinson, ex-editor of the Aspen Times and one of the founders of Roaring Fork Sunday newspaper, and George Stranahan, who used to own the infamous Woody Creek Tavern and helped found Flying Dog Brewery, resurrected the Mountain Gazette, bringing it back from a 21-year hiatus. In its first incarnation (1966-1972 as the Skiers Gazette and 1972-1979 as the Mountain Gazette), the magazine had published work by the likes of Edward Abbey, David Roberts, Galen Rowell, Royal Robbins, Barry Corbet, John Jerome, George Sibley, Dick Dorworth, and many others. In March 2013, Fayhee announced his departure from the magazine, ending an era. The Gazette had suspended print publication in November 2012, but continued online amid hopes it would resume print publication. The Gazette will continue under Elevation Outdoors editor Doug Schnitzpahn, who is optimistic about re-vamping its online presence and hopes to re-launch print publication in some form in the future. Funky, Cranky, Loved In its second life under Fayhee, the Gazette became a mountain-town magazine that was equal parts barstool storytelling and mountainside introspection, and it fought hard to avoid the destination and gear obsession of shiny outdoor mags and stay true to its roots of quality writing about all aspects of mountain life. The editorial voice was the guy sitting next to you at the townie bar in Leadville or the lady who had moved west with her dog 10 years ago and never left, not the guy with the flashy new skis on the chairlift or the tourist flying in for a weekend for a few Facebook photos. Fayhee’s writing became the centerpiece of the magazine, a wonderfully rambling, throwback style, punch lines and epiphanies abound in his stories of bar fights, trail conversations and observations, and even his reporting — hiking to the lake where John Denver was inspired to write “Rocky Mountain High” (and finding it to be not that inspiring), or searching the West for “Towns Where You Can Get Your Ass Kicked.” In his column announcing the return of the magazine in 2000 (Issue #78), Fayhee wrote of his only conversation with Ed Abbey, in 1979, when Fayhee was a college student at Western New Mexico University. He asked Cactus Ed what he thought of the then-recent demise of the Mountain Gazette, and Abbey replied, “It was just a victim of the times. We are now in an era ruled by the slick and glossy outdoor magazines.” Twenty-one years after that conversation, Fayhee, who was a devoted fan of the Gazette while in college, envisioned a publication that still had heart and soul, a magazine that several Western writers hoped would turn into a sort of New Yorker for mountain folks — if it could only get advertising dollars. (Full disclosure: The Gazette was one of the first publications to print my work and Fayhee is now a close friend.) It was anything but glossy, an 11×17 tabloid format that wouldn’t fit in most bookstore magazine racks, but showed up in mountain bars, coffee shops and gear stores. In an industry where plenty of writers compile lists of “Secret Hikes” that become not-so-secret once a magazine’s readership knows about them and excitedly accept free trips to write about resorts and gear, Fayhee stuck with his old-school morals, penning pieces about how outdoor media had ruined more than one great secret spot by revealing it to the masses and filling the magazine with stories covering all sorts of topics that mainstream mags wouldn’t touch — how-tos on nacho etiquette and chopping firewood, heartfelt stories about a sense of place in our beloved mountains and rivers, tales of lost virginity, lost values in the West, and lost time apres-apres-ski. Summit Publishing, the Virginia-based publisher of Elevation Outdoors and Blue Ridge Outdoors, was the last of four publishers who tried to turn a profit with the Gazette since 2000 — GS

With nicknames such as the Lung with Legs and the Mutant, it comes as no surprise that Alex Lowe had a reputation as one of the fittest and strongest mountaineers who ever lived. Lowe’s exceptional upper body strength was developed through a fanatical exercise regime that regularly included 400 pull-ups and hundreds of dips. But Lowe’s fame arose not so much from his possession of such enviable physical attributes, but the application of them. His reputation began in his adopted state of Montana where he made numerous hard rock and ice climbs and ski descents and where his strength and fortitude became legendary. In one famous incident a free-standing icicle he was climbing broke free, carrying him 30m down before he hit a ledge, smashing his forehead into his ice axe. Lowe, however, promptly stood up and proclaimed himself okay. But his friends could see he wasn’t: A large section of his scalp was draped over one eye, exposing his skull. Undeterred, Lowe later recalled what followed: “We…kinda taped the scalp back into place, and put a hat on, and taped around the hat, and started skiing out. [We] kinda knew it was time to go to the ER. But we also knew it was going to be a long evening there, so we stopped down at the coffee shop and got lattes. It was great. My clothes were saturated with blood. We parked in the handicap spot in front of the coffee shop, marched right in, and then headed for the hospital.” Other notable incidents included his part in helping to rescue some Spanish climbers trapped by a storm high on Denali. He struggled up steep ice slopes at high altitude while carrying a frostbitten climber on his back, so he could be evacuated by helicopter. “He literally single-handedly saved several people,” said the chief mountaineering ranger for the National Park Service at the time. Lowe’s climbing achievements were just as impressive: He led the first ascent of the Northwest Face of the Great Trango Tower, in the Karakoram, despite a 35m fall and injured elbow, a solo ascent of the North Face of the Matterhorn, the first solo ascent in winter of the North Face of the Grand Teton in Wyoming, and no fewer than 16 routes up Yosemite’s El Capitan. Lowe also summited Everest twice, as well as climbing in Antarctica, Baffin Island in the Canadian Arctic, Indonesia’s Carstenz Pyramid, and the Cordillera Blanca in Peru. In this candid portrait by Gordon Wiltsie, Lowe celebrates his successful climb of Great Sail Peak by taking a shave in base camp and then washing his hair. Job done, he wanders back into his tent to open a cold beer. “We’re all at this one level,” the top alpinist Conrad Anker once remarked, “and then there’s Alex.” Lowe was tragically lost in an avalanche while climbing Shishapangma in 1999. Often named in magazines and by his peers as the best climber in the world, he had shrugged off the unwanted label with typical diffidence, responding: “The best climber is the one having the most fun.” This Historical Badass is excerpted from the book Mountain Heroes: Portraits of Adventure, by Huw Lewis-Jones. For more information and to purchase signed copies, See polarworld.co.uk. To follow Lewis-Jones on Twitter check out @Polarworld. For more from AJ’s Historical Badass series, go here.

Joe Sharkey, a volunteer along with his wife at Saguaro National Park, was fired from his job as a mounted trail patrol because he contacted the police and the media to report vandalism of saguaro cacti and boulders along one of the park’s scenic trails earlier this week. Sharkey is a retired, seasoned journalist who’s done stints at the New York Times, Philadelphia Inquirer, and the Wall Street Journal, and his reaction, once he discovered the vandalism, was to call 911. “I made some calls to various Park Service numbers,” he wrote in his blog, “but the only response I got was from a county deputy sheriff,” who unfortunately doesn’t have jurisdiction over the area.” Sharkey then went back into reporter mode. He snapped photos to document the damage and notified local media. “I took them up the trail for a detailed report on what was obvious to anyone on the trail,” he said. The Arizona Daily Star ran a front-page piece on the graffiti. To which the NPS response was that Sharkey had no right to alert the media or authorities; he hadn’t gone through proper channels and he was asked to apologize and to never speak to the media again. To which Sharkey said flatly, no, they’d have to fire him. Sharkey is contrite about the matter but feels that when he didn’t get a response from NPS officials that even as a volunteer his job was to get the word out. Park officials say the policy is clear, that that’s not the role of volunteers, and you can understand the point: They want to review any event and put out a clear statement. But as unintended consequences go, the last thing you’d want is for volunteers to keep mum about vandalism or other misdeeds, fearing they might get in trouble with the chain of command. Via The Arizona Star.

I know that the term for a skier who doesn’t have a clue what he is doing is a gaper, but what is the term for someone who doesn’t have a clue about fly fishing?  The fact that I don’t even know may automatically qualify me.  I want to learn how to fly fish.  Maybe I’ve watched A River Runs Through It a few too many times.  Unfortunately, I’ve only been fly fishing a few times and think it might be a myth that people catch fish this way. The first thing I do is go to the local fly shop in Driggs, ID to get a fishing license.  Yes, I’ve lived in Teton Valley, a worldwide fly fishing destination, for the past 3 ½ years and never bothered to actually get a license.  Then, I ask the guy in the shop, who looks the part of a fishing guide, where I should go.  Henry’s Fork of the Snake River, South Fork of the Snake, the Teton River?  He suggests the Henry’s Fork and says they are biting on nymphs, then helps me pick out a few fly patterns.  I rush home and thumb through my book Fly Fishing for Trout in Streams.  How does one use these nymphs?  I know enough to know that nymphs are for subsurface fishing, so I look through that section.  Looks like I’m going to need some tippet material and indicators.  The weather turns bad, so I delay going out.  A week later, I’m back in the shop buying tippet material and indicators.  However this time, the same guy suggests the Warm River.  They a biting on caddies.  “Oh yeah, caddies.  Sounds good.”  I again rush home and look through my book to see what he means by caddies.  Got it, dry flies.  I look through my case of flys and see a few that look similar to caddies in the book.  I also need to look and see where exactly the Warm River is.  I find it’s up by Ashton, ID, and spills into the Henry’s Fork where I had originally decided to go. I gather up all my gear and head up to the Warm River.  When I get there I am relieved to see no one else is around.  Is this because I want a little piece of solitude?  No, it’s because I don’t want anyone to see what kind of junk show I’m going to be.  I put my rod together, clumsily tie my fly on, don my fishing vest so at least I look somewhat legit, and head down to the river’s edge.  I let out some line and try remember how to cast.  A few false casts to let some more line out, and I let the fly go.  Not too bad for the first time.  The trout are rising all over the river like it’s a feeding frenzy.  Even I should be able to catch something with these conditions.  But wait!  After a few more casts I start to come forward with my cast but it’s stuck behind me.  Look back and yep, stuck in a bush.  I put the rod down and go retrieve my fly out of the bush.  I’m sure all that movement didn’t spook the trout at all. After a few more casts I feel like I’m getting it down a little better and keeping my fly out of the bushes, for the most part.  I’m even getting the trout to come up and take a little nibble on my fly.  Just can’t get the timing right to actually hook any of them.  Maybe it’s that I’m so surprised that they are attracted to it, that by the time I realize I need to hook, they are gone.  I move down the river bank to try a different location.  I’m a little too amateurish at this stage of the game to actually purchase waders.  A few more casts at the new location, and I spy a trout rising towards my fly.  This time I’m ready.  Just as he goes for it, I flick my wrist slightly and feel him take hold.  Oh no, what do I do now?  I never got that far in my how-to book.  I instinctively start reeling in the slack, my fishing rod bent.  The trout leaps into the air.  I’m so excited!  This is just like in A River Runs Through It.  Pull back on my rod and snap, it’s all gone.  My beautiful trout and my fly have disappeared.  Now my trout is swimming around with a fly stuck in its mouth.  Even in my fly fishing ignorance I realize this is probably a major faux pas. I tie another fly on and keep at it.  Another angler shows up and is watching me for a whi

There appears to be no easy path to a planned mountain bike park at Timberline on Mt. Hood. This past week the Sierra Club joined a lawsuit brought by local environmental groups in Oregon against the planned construction of a 17-mile network of singletrack and downhill trails on the lower slopes of the mountain. The lawsuit against the Forest Service says the trails would increase erosion into the sensitive headwaters of Still Creek and the West Fork of the Salmon River and disturb summer recreation such as hiking, and possibly disturb wildlife, including elk, that rely on high alpine meadows during calving season. Timberline says the suit’s claims are identical to ones the environmental groups brought during the formal appeal process — an appeal that was dismissed because the USFS found the park would cause “no significant impact.” Perhaps the most compelling statement in all of this is simply this: “Our plan to build a world-class bike park is consistent with the Mt. Hood Forest Plan and is consistent with Timberline’s original and essential purpose,” which was envisioned by President Franklin Roosevelt as “active and egalitarian recreational use.” Or, to read between the lines, this isn’t a national park. There are ski lifts that already provide access to hikers, and ski resorts nationwide are seeing an opportunity in a growing mountain biking demographic — hiking, by contrast, isn’t in the midst of a youth movement. The Sierra Club likely joined the suit because they fear Hood as a bellwether for ski resorts. But unreliable snowpack means environmentalists are going to be up against such plans at an increasing clip. And a common complaint by mountain bikers is just this: Shouldn’t the Sierra Club be fighting oil pipelines and coal mines, not people who would otherwise be their allies? Via Bike Portland, Oregon Live. Photo via Gravity Logic

Sometimes, social media is not your friend, particularly when you use it to brag about hitting a cyclist with your car – this after fleeing the scene – and tell the world that you, the driver, had the right of way, not the cyclist. Such was the case with Emma Way, who was driving around a corner in Norwich, England, as cyclists of a 100-mile race were coming from the opposite way, as reported by the blog “I Pay Road Tax,” a UK cycling site, and The Daily Mail. Way’s mirror hit cyclist Toby Hockley, sending him flying off his bike and into the trees. Way was proud of her moment, sending out this tweet: “Definitely knocked a cyclist off his bike earlier — I have right of way he doesn’t even pay road tax!” Big mistake, Emma Way. When you share such things with your followers, you’re actually sharing it with the world, which can sometime include the police. In this case, it was the Norwich Police, which just happened to be monitoring Twitter. @emmaway20 we have had tweets ref an RTC with a bike. We suggest you report it at a police station ASAP if not done already & then dm us — Norwich Police (@NorwichPoliceUK) May 19, 2013 The Norwich Police tweeted @emmaway20: “We have had tweets ref an RTC [road traffic collision] with a bike. We suggest you report it at a police station ASAP if not done already & then dm us.” After the twitterverse got ahold of @emmaway20’s story, the cat was out of the bag. Reportedly, Way’s employer even got involved. In the end, police used Facebook to track down Way. Afterwhich, the Norwich Police tweeted: “Thank you to all those that have forwarded tweets on a bike RTC. We have the info we need and are making further enqs…We have identified parties believed involved and are progressing with them. Thanks for all the comments & feedback…but for obvious reasons we are unable to put any further info on this into the public domain.” As for Hockley, he noted on Facebook that he is fine and “got away with a bruised shin and sore elbow.” He was a bit more forthcoming with the BBC, however. “A car came tearing round the blind corner and narrowly missed a cyclist in front of me,” he told the BBC. “She came on to my side of the road, I took the wing mirror off and I went flying off my bike into a hedge. “She hit me hard, really hard. I am lucky to be alive. “But I managed to get out of the hedge and stand up. The car was nowhere to be seen. She hit me, and she was gone. All I know is that it was a blonde girl driving.” The “I Pay Road Tax” blog summed it up perfectly, writing, “You have to be a special kind of dumb to post that kind of comment to Twitter. In affiliation with GrindTV

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We took a break from the Colorado mountain "spring-time", heading west as more snow was falling at our house. When we arrived at the edge of the desert, we heard that mountain passes were closing behind us due to snow. Our adventure was warm, relaxing, fun, and full of paws running on the desert floor. Some days had clear blue skies surrounding the copper-colored rocks of the desert. We lazed