Health & Fitness with Bill Hauda
Unable to beat 'em, Aldo Leopold joins 'em "A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise." - Aldo Leopold I spotted a familiar figure dismounting a snowmobile as I pulled into the parking lot of Bobby's Bar near Baraboo to grab a burger. It was the revered environmentalist Aldo Leopold, author of A Sand County Almanac, longtime resident of "the shack" in the woods near the
Wisconsin River and the man considered to be the father of wildlife management. "Aldo!" I said, with surprise. "Everyone thinks you're dead. What are you doing here, riding a snowmobile and stopping at a bar?" "Everyone's mistaken," he replied, "I didn't die. I just had to give up living in the shack. The snowmobilers came and all the birds and wildlife left. I could no longer stand the noise. It made it impossible to study or write. I used to listen to songbirds sing, but now the
only thing heard is the scream of two-cycle engines racing at high speed, punctuated by an occasional loud crash. And the sweet smell of woodland flowers has been replaced with the smell of burned gas. Even the skunks left because they couldn't stand the odor. "So, I just got to thinking that, gee, maybe I didn't have this conservation stuff quite right all along," he continued. "Perhaps conservation is not ' state of harmony between men and land,' as I once wrote, but a state of
harmony between men and motors." "So I went over to the other side. I got a snowmobile. And an ATV. And a big, high-powered motorboat for summer use. I discovered you don't need the solace of the woods, because it's just too much fun running skiers and bicyclists off the trails and the canoeists and kayakers off the lakes and rivers by buzzing them with intimidating motors. "What finally made the decision final for me was when the Legislature and governor named the state's
recreational trail system in my name," Aldo said. "It was intended for runners, bicyclists and skiers, but they allowed snowmobilers to displace skiers in winter and they now want to let ATV'ers displace everyone else in the spring, summer and fall." "What really hurt was they named it the Aldo Leopold Legacy Trail System. So I said, if that's my legacy, perhaps the conservation stuff was a mistake and I might as well just join them and at least have some fun doing it. You could say I
went over to the dark side." "But Aldo," I interjected. "Didn"t you hear that a circuit judge in Polk County just ruled that the DNR allowing snowmobiles and ATVs on the state trail system was illegal? The judge said the only motorized vehicles that are legal are personal mobility assistive devices - you know, motorized wheelchairs. By specifying those had access, the judge ruled, the Legislature effectively outlawed all other motors." "They may have been illegal, but they came
anyway," Aldo said with a sigh. "The DNR is supposed to help us eradicate invasive species before they destroy our natural surroundings. Instead they let the snowmobiles and ATVs invade, and even supported their spread. Some people might even be cynical enough to suggest that collecting trail fees has been more important to the Legislature and DNR than protecting the environment. Maybe they should have just named the trails 'the Internal Combustion Legacy Trail System.'" "When I went
over to the dark side," Aldo went on, "I found most of the destinations don't involve the 'harmony with land' I promoted. The only harmony seems to be in the juke boxes in the bars to which the trails inevitably lead." "There certainly seems to be a lot of truth to that," I sympathized. "A group of six officers, including two DNR wardens on snowmobiles, did a sting on a Dodge County trail in January. They netted three drunk snowmobile drivers in just one night after making only 15 to 20
riders stop. That would seem to indicate that 15 to 20 percent of snowmobilers might be driving drunk." "Yes," Aldo agreed. “And I can't believe it's any different with those who ride ATVs. Maybe they need to be stung, too." "The gas fumers' idea of 'harmony with land' seems to be best illustrated by the Cheese County Trail in Iowa, Lafayette and Green counties in southwestern Wisconsin," I said. "This is a local trail system, not part of the state system. It allows ATVs and
snowmobiles, along with bicyclists, hikers and skiers." But few bicyclists have enjoyed that trail, as suggested by those who have left comments about their riding experience on a website about the trail (www.a1trails.com/rail/wi/cheese.html). As I related to Aldo, one cyclist from Illinois called the Cheese Country Trail "a rutted, poorly packed trail with loads of ATV traffic making this trail one to avoid. Not one happy
face on any of the bicyclists." Another from Verona wrote, "ATV use makes this a terrible experience for anyone else. Some whiz by leaving a huge cloud of dust. Forget seeing any wildlife. Motorized traffic makes it impossible." And yet another hailing from Platteville said, "This could be a really great trail if they got rid of the ATV traffic. Some of the people that ride them on this trail are very reckless." But one ATV'er posted a different view, "Speed limit is 30 mph on trail;
should be 40 mph. Speed limit on bridges is 15 mph; should be 25 mph." Having informed him of this, I still tried to assure Aldo that things might get better. I told him the DNR was quite taken aback by the circuit court judges "no motors on state trails" decision and was trying to figure out how to respond. While the decision isn't binding on any state trail but the one between Amery and Dresser in Polk County, the legal principles obviously apply statewide. A concerned lawyer or
organization could use them to sue to remove motors from other trails. "At the same time," I told Aldo, "the Legislature is in a quandary over trails. Legislation is pending to add a couple more motorsports representatives to the Governor's State Trails Council, but can you really add people to an advisory board when their means of conveyance is not allowed?" "But don't lose all hope, Aldo," I concluded. "Better days may come when the motors leave and the birds and wildlife
return. Maybe we'll get to again smell flowers instead of gas fumes." Aldo seemed totally unconvinced. "Remember," he said, "I once warned that recreational development is a job not of building roads into lovely country, but of building receptivity into the still unlovely human mind. And there are a lot of those unlovely minds running around atop motors and making public policy." I had no response to that truism.
With that, Aldo put his helmet back on and climbed on his snowmobile, revving up the engine. "Maybe it will get better some day," he said. "But in the meantime, I have trails to trash and bikers and skiers to bash." And, in a flash, he was off, leaving behind a huge cloud of foul, blue smoke. Bill Hauda is journalist, founder of the Bicycle Federation of Wisconsin and former director of Wisconsin's two major cross-state bicycle tours, GRABAAWR and SAGBRAW. |