Even from a distance it’s clear that an oil and gas well called “State Senate #2” in New Mexico has seen better days. The pumpjack sits idle, tumbleweeds surround the once-moving parts, and the earth smells of crude saturating the soil.
In Colorado, farmers must enroll in a four-state program by March 1, if they want to get paid for fallowing their fields – perhaps the best option to plump up the Colorado River’s giant reservoirs, Mead and Powell.
Last November, the Great Salt Lake, iconic landmark of the Great Basin Desert, fell to its lowest surface elevation ever recorded. The lake had lost 73% of its water and 60% of its area. More than 800 square miles of lakebed sediments were laid bare to become dust sources laden with heavy metals.
Six people have died in avalanches in the United States since the snow started to fly this fall. Every year, an average of 27 people – skiers, snowboarders, snowmobilers, snowshoers – die this way.
High on a mesa where everyone can see it, a trophy house is going up in the northern Colorado valley where I live. Some of my neighbors hear that the house will be as big as 15,000 square feet. Others say it will take three years to complete. Whether that is valley gossip or truth, the house is now the center of everybody’s attention.
In Girdwood, Alaska, we’ll long remember the snowstorm of Dec. 6, just three months ago. But it won’t be for the school cancellations. We’ll remember it as the night dozens of residents traveled a snow-packed highway to testify at a public meeting – about housing.
Moab, Utah, gets just 8 inches of rain per year, yet rainwater flooded John Weisheit’s basement last summer. Extremes are common in a desert: Rain and snow are rare, and a deluge can cause flooding.
Some people have become so alarmed by what children might read in school or in libraries that they want books they don’t like removed – immediately. The targeted books include scenes of sexual awakening, gender identity, racism or violence.
Finally, after a 50-year effort, four massive dams on the Klamath River in northern California and Oregon will start coming down this July.
Many Western states have declared they will achieve all-renewable electrical goals in just two decades. Call me naïve, but haven’t energy experts predicted that wind, sun and other alternative energy sources aren’t up to the job?
Cold mornings are sometimes hard to get up for. It’s just too easy to stay indoors. For me, Dec. 12 was not one of those days.
There’s a new initiative in Wyoming that’s changing the face of wildlife conservation funding, and it’s already seen huge success in its first year.
When I was working with a Kenyan outdoor instructor in Wyoming’s Wind River Range a couple of decades ago, he surprised me one day by saying, “Hiking here feels like a walk in the park.”
An old river-running motto says, “Old boaters never die, they just get a little dinghy.” And some never lose their passion for keeping rivers wild.
For the past few weeks, dozens of turkey vultures have been circling on thermals over my house in Oregon, preparing to soar away south into California. Not long ago, I saw a late monarch butterfly passing high overhead, its orange wings incandescent against the blue sky.