YOLOing with Roosevelt and Abbey

Last week, after losing an election here in Montana, I spent a couple of days flyfishing with my son, Badge. “Magical” only hints at how good these moments are now after having missed so many on the campaign trail. The whole thing was refreshing, common, and accessible in a uniquely Montana kind of way. No expensive boats, guides, fancy lodges, or long travel. Just a spur-of-the-moment trip on public land that’s open to all.

Both Badge and I have spent a lot of time lately fighting for Montana, have endured much stress at the attacks on what we hold dear, and probably not spent enough time enjoying it, and so for us, it was a good to channel Ed Abbey’s advice from Desert Solitaire1, his iconic 1968 work in praise of wilderness:

“One final paragraph of advice: do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast....a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space.” - Ed Abbey, 1968

The flip side of our simple Abbey-inspired river rambling, the greed and insidious rush of wealth in this country, is all around us now, especially in Montana. And anyone who has studied Abbey knows that even though he directed “part-time crusading,” he never actually followed his own advice; Cactus Ed was always on a crusade.

I think most of us who really care about this place are the same as Abbey in that regard. We really can’t help it. Just being on public land and loving it is our own act of defiance.

As Badge and I pulled on our old, tattered wading boots, we too were quietly crusading. For all we knew, Elon Musk or some other obscenely wealthy oligarch was once again landing a bajillion-dollar helicopter a few miles away at Paws Up Resort, where unimaginable money buys embarrassing levels of pampering that cost more than most Montanans make in a year. They even insult anyone who has set up a tent by offering “camping” for $ 4,300 per night.

“Tough not to daydream of what Abbey’s Monkey Wrenchers would do in times like these,” I might have muttered to myself.2

Even if we don’t all become George Washington Hayduke III3, people like Badge and me, and most Montanans, take a lot of pride in eschewing any such ridiculous bought-and-paid-for experiences. Days like ours are even becoming our own rigid middle finger to the nearly 1000 billionaires in this nation, as they block access, corrupt our democracy, rush to build data centers, and shatter our environmental regulations.

We want to believe that we still have a leg up on them. We tell ourselves, “they can have all the money, but they’ll never have this - an absolute pinnacle outdoor experience; a father and son wading a small stream, on public lands in Montana, tossing bushy dry flies in gin-clear water to big wild fish.”

Badge, and I act as though we experienced these days simply because we live here and chose to go, but we both know that’s not exactly true. We also have this because people fought for it, sacrificed, ran for office, and made a difference. We know we must do the same, even if it means losing sometimes.

The truth is that there is little simplicity left in our nation now, and there was none in our fishing days either. This delightful experience was, in fact, born of a painful recent defeat. It only happened because I had unexpected spare time after losing that Democratic congressional nomination here in Montana on June 2. A narrow election loss that was very tough for all of us, especially my sons, Badge and Lander.

Many of you supported our campaign, and I am deeply grateful for your contributions and your incredible messages of encouragement. I met many of you during the campaign, and kindness and a fervent desire for change came through in hundreds of repeated, heartfelt conversations on the road.

Ask any candidate, and they’ll tell you that there are these scenes that seem to constantly loop during a campaign. One of them is the moment when you lean toward a supporter to absorb the earnest and often hushed “thanks so much to you and your family for running.” Sometimes that happens a dozen times a day. And you come to recognize these statements as a mix of sincerity and subconscious recognition of the weirdness of someone like me who will toss themselves into the cauldron of modern American politics. Rephrased, it might sound like “I think you are nuts for doing this, but thanks!”

I know it probably does seem nuts to many, and I’d be lying if Sara and I didn’t utter that assessment a time or two to ourselves. For us, it’s more about the urgency of the moment and how a genuine love of this place can inspire average folks like us to rush to the front lines.

I know that’s true because that’s precisely what Montana has done to our family. For us, jumping into the fray here just comes naturally. Our sons, Badge and Lander, who bravely fought a high-profile multi-year court case to defend their Montana constitutional rights to a clean and healthy environment, would boil down the necessity of NOW like this: “It’s YOLO, Dad - you only live once.”

Just a couple of days after the low moments of the election, and on the eve of Badge’s high school graduation celebration, Sara sent a text to our family chat offering a more circumspect assessment: “We have much to be proud and humbled by. I love you all so much.” And then she centered us all by sending us all a copy of our family’s guiding admonition of advocacy from Theodore Roosevelt’s 1910 speech in Paris:4

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” - T.R. April 23, 1910

Like most people of his age, T.R. had many shortcomings, but he lacked nothing in the willingness-to-fight department. I’m very proud that my family shares this courage to dare greatly.

I’m also proud that we share his love of nature, as evidenced by my river time with Badge and our three very happy birddogs, who understand that a November general election would have been disastrously disruptive to the middle of bird season. For all of us, and the dogs, the upside of losing is that none of us are disappointed to be “stuck” here instead of DC.

So what’s next? June 2 has come and gone for me, but there is still an urgent need for all of us to do everything possible to directly confront the national five-alarm crises of wealth disparity, a failing healthcare system, data centers, corruption, almost unimaginable attacks on our public lands, and, of course, climate.

No one in this family is leaving the arena!

For now, I promise this Montana Dispatch will contain regular, unfiltered updates, important stories, and celebrations linked to this last best place. So much is happening here, and so much must be protected here.

My challenge to each of you is to channel both Abbey and Roosevelt. Stay in the arena in whatever way possible. Get out and enjoy what we have, but never give in. We can afford nothing less in this dangerously dark time in America.

I leave you with two additional quotes, the first is another line from T.R.’s 1910 speech. It’s a succinct and poignant instruction to resist normalizing evil, to stand up against the obvious lawless ICE agents who murder American citizens, against blatant and worsening corruption, and against the destruction of our last wild places;

“No self-respecting individual, no self-respecting nation, can or ought to submit to wrong.” - T.R. 1910

Lastly, I leave you with a classic Ed Abbey send-off. His own one-fingered salute to the dangerous forces of greed in this nation against which we all fight, and a stubborn personal promise that we’ll not let them win!

“I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards.” -E.A. 1968

Although neither Abbey nor Roosevelt lived to be old men, they certainly outlived all their critics, and so can we.

“Bully” to that!

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