Rehabilitar habilitar una esperanza posibilitar un lugar un encuentro habitar un espacio un tiempo abrir los ojos a media caña respirar oler cada mañana caminar por las nubes regar los cipreses coger un puñado de arena sembrar la tierra con el viento oler oler la vida quedarse inmóvil viendo pasar las nubes... MOLER LA VIDA.
El tema central de este Blog es LA FILOSOFÍA DE LA CABAÑA y/o EL REGRESO A LA NATURALEZA o sobre la construcción de un "paradiso perduto" y encontrar un lugar en él. La experiencia de la quietud silenciosa en la contemplación y la conexión entre el corazón y la tierra. La cabaña como objeto y método de pensamiento. Una cabaña para aprender a vivir de nuevo, y como ejemplo de que otras maneras de vivir son posibles sobre la tierra.
El Principio de indeterminación o incertidumbre de Heisenberg establece que es imposible conocer simultáneamente la posición y la velocidad del electrón, y por tanto es imposible determinar su trayectoria. Cuanto mayor sea la exactitud con que se conozca la posición, mayor será el error en la velocidad, y viceversa. Solamente es posible determinar la probabilidad de que el electrón se encuentre en una región determinada.
(André Lafon, Poésies. "Le rêve d'un logis" p. 91.)
Qui n'a pas au fond de son coeur
Un sombre château d'Elseneur
...
A l'instar des gens du passé
On construit en soi-même pierre
Par pierre un grand château hanté.
Quien no tiene en su corazón
Un sombrío castillo de Elsinor
...
Como las gentes del pasado
Construyo en mí mismo, piedra
Sobre piedra, un gran castillo con fantasmas.
(Vincent Monteiro, Vers sur verre, p. 15.)
"Mi casa es diáfana, pero no de vidrio. es más bien de la misma naturaleza que el vapor. Sus paredes se condensan y se relajan según mi deseo. A veces, las estrecho en torno mío, como una armadura aislante... Pero otras, dejo que los muros de mi casa se expandan en su espacio propio, que es la extensibilidad infinita."
(Georges Spyridaki, Mort lucide, ed. Seghers, p. 35)
Une maison dressée au coeur
Ma cathédrale de silence
Chaque matin reprise en rêve
Et chaque soir abandonnée
Une maison couverte d'aube
Ouverte au vent de ma jeunesse.
Una casa erigida en el corazón
Mi catedral de silencio
Reanudada cada mañana en sueños
Y cada noche abandonada
Una casa cubierta de alba
Abierta al viento de mi juventud.
(Jean Laroche, Memoire d'eété, ed Cahiers de Rochefort, p. 9.)
Casa de viento
A chaque souvenir je transportais des pierres
Longtemps je t'ai construite, ô maison!
Du rivage au sommet de tes murs
Et je voyais, chaume, couvé par les saisons
Ton toit changeant comme la mer
Danser sur le fond des nuages
Auxquels il mêlait ses fumées
Maison de vent demeure qu'un souffle effaçait
¡Cuánto tiempo llevo construyéndote, oh casa!
A cada recuerdo transportaba piedras
De la ribera a la cima de tus muros
Y veía, bálago incubado por las estaciones
Tu tejado cambiante como el mar
Danzando sobre el fondo de las nubes
A las cuales se mezclaba el humo
Casa de viento, morada que un soplo desvanecía.
(Louis Guillaume, Noir comme la mer, ed. Les Lettres, p. 60)
Tout ce qui fait les bois, les rivières où l'air A place entre ces murs qui croient fermer une chambre Accourez, cavaliers qui traversez les mers Je n'ai qu'un toit du ciel, vous aurez de la place. Todo lo que hacen los bosques, los ríos o el aire Cabe entre estos muros que creen cerrar la estancia; Acudid, caballeros que atravesáis los mares, Sólo tengo un techo de cielo, encontraréis lugar. (Jules Supervielle, Les amis inconnus, pp. 93 y 96)
Fuente: Gaston Bachelard. La Poética del Espacio. Breviarios del Fondo de Cultura Económica
Comunal no es municipal. Otra vez el Estado contra el pueblo
Un amplio sector de la izquierda y de la población mantiene inconsciente o conscientemente una analogía errónea entre el concepto "comunal" y "municipal". Esa confusión es en la mayoría de los casos interesada y fomentada desde el poder cuando no desde la ignorancia. En zonas rurales tal confusión puede ser letal para los intereses vecinales. Comunal es un régimen especial de gestión directa de los vecinos de bienes muebles y sobretodo inmuebles, de carácter ancestral. Lo que está bajo gestión comunal no puede ser enajenable y su explotación no puede ser nunca exclusiva para un individuo o una institución. Lo municipal es lo que depende de la gestión de los ayuntamientos, que no son los vecinos, sino los gobiernos locales cuyos intereses no son los mismos que los de los vecinos por mucho que se diga lo conrrario.
Conviene remontarse a los antecedentes antiquísimos de este sistema autogestionario para poder ampliar el conocimientro preciso de este modelo que el Estado y la propiedad privada han combatido e intentado anular para su propio beneficio, arrebatando los derechos de los vecinos.
El sistema comunal fue una de las piezas claves en la dinámica socioeconómica y reproductiva de las sociedades rurales. Aporta a los vecinos materiales de construcción, combustible, forraje y aportes complementarios a la dieta. Desde antiguo se conoce este sistema como "régimen de procomún" que ya existía en España desde el siglo IX, como continuidad del derecho germánico. Los comunes tenían unos fueros otorgados por el rey que les defendían de los atropellos de la Iglesia y los señores. Se desarrolla en el siglo XIII en las llamadas Sieta Partidas que establecen varias categorías para el procomún. Una, se refiere a lo que pertenece a todas las criaturas humanass como el aire, el agua de lluvia el mar y su ribera. Otra se refiere a todos los hombres comunalmente y son los ríos, los caminos públicos y los puertos. Una tercera categoría hablaba de lo que pertenece comunmente a una ciudad o villa (fuentes de agua, plazas donde se celebran los mercados, espacios en donde se celebran los concejos abiertos o asambleas vecinales, arenales de ríos, etc).
Los comunes fueron casi destruidos por la burgesía que se desarrolla en España entre los siglos XVIII y XIX, con el apoyo del Estado y las instituciones estatales como los ayuntamientos, nacidas al amparo de esa burguesía para protegerles en sus negocios. De esta manera las diferentes desamortizaciones llevadas a cabo en este periodo consiguieron que espacios de gestión comunal pasaran a manos privadas. También el Estado se benefició ilegítimamente de esos espacios de propiedad vecinal. Un ejemplo fue la venta que diversos gobiernos llevaron a cabo de terrenos comunales, que por tasnto no les pertenecían, para recaudar fondos ante el desastre colonial de Cuba y Filipinas, a finales del XIX y principios del s. XX.
En la actualidad la gestión comunal se reduce a montes, extensiones de bosques y pastos ganaderos. La mayoría de ellos se explotan en régimen de concejo abierto y se gestionan directamente por los vecinos.
Sin embargo se están dando casos de ayuntamientos que en la confusión entre lo comunal y lo municipal están arrebatando este patrimonio común en su beneficio para negociar y obtener recursos de los que carecen por años de derroche y falta de previsión. En los pueblos ya conocemos algun conflicto con montes forestales y pastos, o con los intentos por hacerse con la gestión del agua en algunas zonas en donde, de antiguo, el agua se administra por las propias juntas vecinales. Vemos con indignación como el procomún, esos bienes que pertenecen al pueblo, están hoy en manos privadas en la mayoría de las zonas rurales. La luz que aprovecha los saltos de agua de los ríos, el abastecimiento del agua en manos de empresas privadas, al igual que grandes compañías que explotan en su beneficio la energía eólica...
Denunciemos pues que los que no son del común, los privados e instituciones estatales gobernadas por las clase política arrebaten lo que pertenece y perteneció siempre al pueblo.
F. Romero (Fuente: http://www.alasbarricadas.org/noticias/node/19191)
Les glaneurs et la glaneuse
Por aquí y por allá, en Francia, Agnès Varda se ha encontrado con espigadores, recolectores y gente que busca entre la basura. Por necesidad, puramente por azar o por obligación esta gente recoge objetos desechados por otros. Su mundo es sorprendente. Y la directora también es un especie de espigadora, recogiendo imágenes para este documental tan personal.
There's no place like home. It's where we live, work and dream. It's our sanctuary and our refuge. We can love them or hate them. It can be just for the night or for the rest of our lives. But whoever we may be, we all have a place we call home.
Do you ever daydream about leaving it all behind? Wandering into the woods, constructing a cabin, living off the land? That idea of escape and desire for simplicity seems to grow more and more common as our lives increase in pace and urban areas overcrowd. I often find myself envious of, though inspired by, folks like this. Ones who made their dreams a reality.
(...) John Coffer he made the switch from Floridian condo dweller to master of his magnificent 50 acre domain over 20 years ago and has never looked back. This beautiful short from Lost & Found Films tells his story, and is definitely worth watching.
While the privileges of wealth can make the transition from cityscape to country kingdom a smooth one, the very nature of homesteading means the serene and simple life can be sustained without an executive income. A little planning and saving at first can get you there. If, like Coffer you plan on mixing old technologies with new (solar panels, wind turbines, internet access), cash on hand is a requirement; however, these are investments into a high functioning, yet slow paced lifestyle that I for one could get behind.
The great thing is many of us already do practice elements of homesteading no matter what our locale. But what I really want to know is how many of you would actually wander off? Do you plan on retiring to the woods or are you eager to find farmland faster still? Is the city-sacrifice to great to leave behind, or is the countryside calling?
Bob Marshall (1901-1939) was one of the most influential advocates for the preservation of wilderness during his abbreviated life. He held a PhD in plant physiology and worked for the US Forest Service, but he would also found The Wilderness Society and advocate for roadless wilderness protection throughout the West. A socialist and minority rights advocate, Marshall wrote “The People’s Forests” and “Arctic Village” among other works. His activism would lead much later to the formation of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, the Wilderness Act of 1964, and, of course, the Bob Marshall Wilderness Area in Montana, named for Marshall in 1941 by the US Forest Service.
"Cabin" Bob Marshall Wilderness Montana
"Wall Tent" Bob Marshall Wilderness Montana
(...) In 1900, Louis Marshall and friends purchased land on Lower Saranac Lake, where they built six summer camps, dubbing the compound Knollwood. Though he grew up in New York City, Bob Marshall spent his boyhood summers at Knollwood. This was his introduction to the Adirondacks and to the joys of wilderness. Among Adirondack hikers, Marshall is celebrated as the original Forty-Sixer-the first to climb all 46 of the region's peaks above 4,000 feet. He was joined in this feat by his younger brother, George, and their guide, Herb Clark. Their first High Peak was Whiteface Mountain, which they climbed on Aug. 1, 1918, after crossing Lake Placid by motorboat. They completed the 46 with an ascent of Mount Emmons, in the remote Seward Range, on June 10, 1925. It's worth noting that the three climbed MacNaughton Mountain a few days later. Although not on the Forty-Sixer list, MacNaughton was later found to top 4,000 feet, so many people feel compelled to climb it as well. That means the Marshalls and Clark were not only the first Adirondack Forty-Sixers; they were the first Forty-Seveners. When the Marshalls began their quest, they thought there were only 42 High Peaks above 4,000 feet. After climbing these, Bob wrote a booklet called The High Peaks of the Adirondacks, which the fledgling Adirondack Mountain Club published in 1922. The booklet notes that most of the peaks lacked trails and had rarely, if ever, been climbed before. Marshall's favorite peak was Haystack, which sits across Panther Gorge from Mount Marcy, the state's highest summit.
"It's a great thing these days to leave civilization for a while and return to nature," he wrote. "From Haystack you can look over thousands and thousands of acres, unblemished by the works of man, perfect as made by nature."
Later surveys revealed that four of Marshall's 46 are below 4,000 feet, but the Adirondack Forty-Sixers still cleave to the original list. In the decade after 1925, only two people followed in the footsteps of the Marshalls and Clark. Since then, climbing the 46 has become an Adirondack tradition. Nearly 6,000 hikers have done it. Nowadays, hikers can follow marked trails or herd paths to all the summits. Marshall did not limit his explorations to mountains. In 1920, he had enrolled in the state College of Forestry, the school his father helped found. After his sophomore year, he spent the summer at the college's forestry camp on Cranberry Lake. On weekends, he headed into the woods, often on his own, and wrote detailed accounts of his adventures. His goal was to visit as many ponds as possible. In all, he visited 94 ponds, and just as with the High Peaks, he ranked them all for their beauty. He graduated in 1924, fourth in a class of 59. The next year, the Journal of Forestry published his first article in defense of wilderness, "Recreational Limitations to Silviculture in the Adirondacks." Whereas most foresters saw the woods as a source of timber, Marshall saw them as a recreational resource that ought to be protected. He likened a virgin forest to a museum, noting that society spends vast sums on museums and parks.
"But there never was a museum that had a more interesting exhibit than this last remnant of the woods that were, nor a park that could compare with them in beauty." This is a theme he developed and refined in later writings, culminating in "The Problem of the Wilderness," his most famous article in favor of preservation.
Marshall went on to earn a master's degree in forestry from Harvard and a doctorate in plant physiology from Johns Hopkins University. He worked, at different times, for the U.S. Forest Service and the Bureau of Indian Affairs. In both agencies, he pushed for wilderness preservation. In 1932, for example, he compiled a list of 38 large, roadless areas that he thought should be protected in their primitive state. When this inventory was updated four years later, it included three tracts in the Adirondacks: the High Peaks, the Cranberry Lake region and the West Canada Lakes region. As a result of Marshall's work, the federal government protected more of its forestlands. In 1929, Marshall traveled to Wiseman, Alaska, a tiny prospecting community north of the Arctic Circle. The ostensible reason for the trip was to study the rate of tree growth at the northern timberline, but the real reason was to find adventure. During his two-month stay, he explored the uncharted Brooks Range. He returned to Wiseman the following summer and stayed for a year. Out of this visit came his best-selling book, Arctic Village, a sociological portrait of the frontier community. Marshall shared the royalties from Arctic Village, which was a Literary Guild selection, with the residents of Wiseman.
In his second book, The People's Forests, Marshall argued that the federal government should nationalize timberlands to save them from corporate logging. In a chapter titled "Forests and Human Happiness," he made a case for preserving woodlands to provide people an escape from a crowded world. In his view, the forest offered "the highest type of recreational and esthetic enjoyment." Marshall returned to the Adirondacks and set a record (later broken) by climbing 13 High Peaks and one lesser summit in a single day, ascending 13,600 feet. In a remarkable coincidence, he met another ardent advocate of wilderness, Paul Schaefer, atop Mount Marcy that day. Schaefer was taking photographs to use in a campaign against an amendment to the state constitution that would have allowed the construction of cabins in the Forest Preserve. Upon learning of the proposed amendment, Marshall became incensed and started pacing back and forth.
"We simply must band together," he told Schaefer, "all of us who love the wilderness." A few years later, Marshall and several colleagues formed The Wilderness Society, which became one of the nation's most effective voices for preservation. Long after Marshall's death, The Wilderness Society's executive secretary, Howard Zahniser, wrote the Wilderness Act, which President Lyndon Johnson signed in 1964. Zahniser, who worked on the law at his Adirondack cabin, defined wilderness as "an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain." This is the same definition found in the Adirondack Park State Land Master Plan.
So we have come full circle: the Adirondacks inspired Bob Marshall, who founded The Wilderness Society, which hired Howard Zahniser, who wrote the definition of wilderness now used to protect the Adirondacks. The founders of The Wilderness Society regarded the construction of roads as one of the biggest threats to wild lands and resisted calls to open up wilderness to the motoring public. In Marshall's view, once a road is built through a wilderness area, it ceases to be a wilderness area. When the state Conservation Department proposed constructing truck trails in the Forest Preserve, in order to speed access to forest fires, Marshall argued against the idea. He lost the debate, and the truck trails were built (and are used today as hiking trails). In an article published posthumously, he expresses dismay at seeing the truck trail along Calkins Creek near the Seward Range, where he had hiked and camped as a young man. "The tire tracks which blot out the footprints of the deer seem to symbolize the twentieth century which has come to steal from the primeval one of its last remaining interests."
On Nov. 10, 1939, Marshall boarded a train headed to New York City to visit relatives. He was found dead in his sleeper car the next morning, apparently of heart failure. He was 38. The death of such a young man, especially one as vigorous as Bob, shocked all who knew him. The next year the federal government designated the Bob Marshall Wilderness in his honor. A bachelor, Marshall left virtually all of his $1.5 million estate to three causes dear to his heart: socialism, civil liberties and wilderness preservation. He gave money to only one individual: $10,000 to his old friend and guide, Herb Clark. To the rest of us, he bequeathed an enthusiasm for wilderness that continues to inspire hikers and conservationists around the world.
Phil Brown is the editor of the Adirondack Explorer, a news magazine about outdoor recreation and wilderness preservation. (http://www.dec.ny.gov/pubs/39311.html)
The Bob Marshall Wilderness- Montana
The Bob Marshall Wilderness is located in Western Montana and is named after Bob Marshall (1901–1939), an early forester, conservationist, and co-founder of The Wilderness Society. The Bob Marshall Wilderness extends for 60 miles along the Continental Divide and consists of 1,009,356 acres. The Bob Marshall Wilderness is adjacent to the Scape Goat Wilderness and the Great Bear Wilderness. All three of these wilderness areas make up the the Bob Marshall Complex. The Bob is also very close to Glacier National Park and separated by Highway 2. In the Bob you will find grizzly bears, wolves, wolverines, elk herds, moose, big horn sheep, mountain goats, mountain lion, lynx and many other species
The Chinese Wall is a geological over-thrust formation within the Bob Marshall Wilderness located on the eastern side also known as the Rocky Mountain Front. The Rocky Mountain Front is where the great plains end and the Rocky Mountains begin very abruptly. This location is one of the last places where grizzly bears leave the mountains and hunt for prey in the prairies. The pictures here are from a 5-day trip in the Bob along the Chinese Wall.
The Murie Residence was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1990 followed by the Murie Ranch in 1998. The properties were declared a National Historic Landmark in 2006.
The Murie Ranch
The Murie families, Olaus and Margaret (Mardy), and Adolph and Louise, bought the STS Dude Ranch in 1945. After moving to the ranch, the Muries removed fences so that wildlife could freely pass. For Wilderness Society Director Olaus Murie, the Murie Ranch represented the heart of American wilderness.
The Murie Ranch became a base camp for conservation leaders. These passionate advocates met to campaign for the protection of American wilderness. The Muries’ conservation work culminated in the passage of the 1964 Wilderness Act. The Act defined wilderness as a place “untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor and does not remain.” Olaus’ wife Mardy received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1998, the highest civilian honor in the United States.
Mardy and Olaus Murie. The Murie Center Archives
The Murie Residence
Olaus and Mardy lived briefly in the Alatna Cabin before moving into the cabin known today as the Murie Residence for the rest of their lives (Olaus passed in 1963 and Mardy in 2003). Olaus published studies about Jackson Hole wildlife while living at the ranch. He argued for ecological boundaries to keep ecosystems intact when legislating park areas instead of drawing arbitrary boundaries. He helped establish the Jackson Hole National Monument in 1943.
Louise and Adolph Murie. The Murie Center Archives
The Homestead Cabin
Wildlife biologist Adolph Murie and wife Louise used the Homestead Cabin as a home and office. Adolph published one of the first studies arguing against the National Park Service’s predator eradication programs. His wolf and coyote studies showed that predators play important ecological roles. Olaus and Adolph’s pioneering research helped move science toward managing ecosystems as a whole rather than managing for individual species.
Olaus Murie in his studio. The Murie Center Archives
Olaus Murie’s Studio
Olaus Murie used his artwork as a scientific tool, sketching and painting wildlife and their habitats in the field and in this studio. He preferred to paint and sketch rather than take photographs. Through science, art and writing, the Muries captured and personified the spirit of wilderness.
How to get there: Drive north from Jackson 12 miles and take a left at Moose Junction toward Moose. Turn left again at the four-way stop signs into the Craig Thomas Discovery and Visitor Center parking lot. Park and walk toward the visitor center. From the courtyard you will see an interpretive wayside exhibit and a footpath leading into the forest. Walk 1/2 mile one-way to the Murie Ranch. Or drive west from Moose Junction until you reach the Moose-Wilson Road junction, turning left onto the road. In about 1/10 of a mile, turn left onto an unpaved road that leads to the Murie Ranch.
Howard Zahniser, Murie Mardie y Olas Murie Cortesía de Wilderness.net
Olaus and Mardy Murie: Alaska's Passionate Protectors
Listen to Howard Berkes' Profile of Mardy Murie on NPR's All Things Considered, 10/21/2003
Coming Under the Influence of Mardy Murie
By Nancy Shea, Former Executive Director of The Murie Center, 2004
The power of mentors to influence ones' life is immense. As a young girl, my mentor was the sea. I was drawn to its wildness, even in the midst of an urban childhood, just south of Los Angeles. The ocean became my primary solace from city life and from my crazy family. Childhood, for me, was swimming into the ocean as far as I dared, past the large pounding waves, turning onto my back, my face to the sun, and floating the currents. I think I was completely unafraid. I know I was happy.
And now in the middle of my life, I have had the great privilege of coming under the tutelage of Mardy Murie, and to live and work in one of the Murie's places of enchantment (as Olaus Murie called them), Moose, Wyoming. I live and work under the spell of her simple message: be happy, maintain honest relations, create a simple life, do good in the world and nurture a deep respect and affection for wild nature.
My first connection to Mardy began when I brought students to Mardy's log cabin for lemonade and cookies and I watched the students melt under Mardy's influence. So many letters came back from students thanking me for letting them meet Mardy. Her favorite words of admonishment to these young people frequently appeared in these student letters: You are only half a person if you do not care.
Six years ago I was hired to begin a center dedicated to carrying forward the Murie's legacy and their message of wilderness preservation, The Murie Center. For the first five years of the center's development, Mardy was our hostess and we shared the Murie ranch with her. We made visits to her regularly and they were always special. Her eyes would light up if we mentioned Olaus or Alaska. And her brow would furrow if we mentioned the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge with her concern about its future. I often thought that Mardy's tenacity and long life was connected to her amazing perseverance and the fact that the status of the refuge as wilderness was never secure.
Many people continued to come and see Mardy right up to her death. They were folks from many, many walks of life who had discovered for themselves a profound connection to this woman. It didn't matter who they were, Mardy always welcomed them into her home. The owls gathered on the ranch, three days prior to her death on October 19th, 2003. She and Olaus had begun their courtship with Olaus calling in the owls for Mardy's benefit. She passed away two days before the 40th anniversary of Olaus' death, and on the same day that she and Olaus had always celebrated their wedding anniversary.
It is a daunting task to create an institution that carries an entire lifetime of passion, conviction and wisdom. The Center is stepping into the opportunity with a commitment to continue Mardy's work. Mardy is gone but her energy and insistence on the value of wildness is present every day on the ranch. Our hope is that the Murie's ranch will continue to be a place where anyone can come under the influence of this great woman and the wonderful wild creatures that inhabit the land that she loved, so that together our voices for wildness will carry far and all our daughters and sons will inhabit an even more wild world than we do today.
Margaret (Mardy) Murie is fondly called the Grandmother of the Conservation Movement, but her love of the land began at a young age. Born on August 18, 1902 in Seattle, Mardy moved to Fairbanks with her family when she was five years old. Her step-father was an assistant U.S. attorney. She attended Simons College in Boston but finished her degree in business administration at the Alaska Agricultural College and School of Mines, now the University of Alaska.
She met Olaus Murie, a biologist, in Fairbanks, and they married in 1924 in a 3 a.m. sunrise ceremony in the village of Anvik on the Yukon River. Olaus had been studying birds in Hooper Bay, and after the wedding, the couple spent their honeymoon traveling over 500 miles around the upper Koyukuk region by boat and dogsled conducting caribou research.
Mardy's adventures growing up in Alaska and as a scientist's wife are chronicled in her book, "Two in the Far North," and in a documentary, "Arctic Dance." Published in 1962 and still in print, the book describes the winter night when she was 14 and Fairbanks caught fire, prompting her father and other men to burn the town's bacon supply as fuel to keep the steam-powered water pump running; her late-winter dogsled trips over thawing rivers; how she became the first woman to graduate from the Alaska Agricultural College and School of Mines; her marriage to Olaus; the couple's honeymoon, as well as a later river journey taken with their infant son, Martin, strapped to their boat. Additionally, Mardy authored "Island Between," published in 1977, and "Wapiti Wilderness," published in 1966 with her husband as co-author.
Olaus was born on March 1, 1889, in the frontier community of Moorhead, Minnesota, and had also developed a close relationship to the land during his youth. The son of Norwegian immigrants, Olaus' later interest in natural history can be traced to his childhood along the Red River and its surrounding unbroken prairie. Olaus attended Pacific University in Oregon, where he completed studies in zoology and wildlife biology. After graduation in 1912, Olaus became an Oregon State conservation officer. Between 1914 and 1917, he participated in scientific explorations of Hudson Bay and Labrador, financed by the Carnegie Museum of Pittsburgh. The Hudson Bay expeditions prepared Olaus for his job as a wildlife biologist with the U.S. Bureau of Biological Survey, now the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Between 1920 and 1926, Olaus, joined by Mardy after their marriage, conducted an exhaustive study of Alaskan caribou, mapping migratory routes and estimating numbers. After that experience, the two agreed that theirs was a true partnership, and that Mardy would be at Olaus' side wherever his explorations took them.
In 1927, the Survey assigned Olaus to comprehensively investigate the Jackson Hole elk herd resulting in the classic publication "The Elk of North America." He also authored six other major publications, including Alaska-Yukon Caribou (North American Fauna [NAF] No. 54, 1935); Food Habits of the Coyote in Jackson Hole, Wyoming (1935); Field Guide to Animal Tracts (1954); Fauna of the Aleutian Islands and Alaska Peninsula (NAF No. 61, 1959); Jackson Hole with a Naturalist (1963); Wapati Wilderness (with Mardy, 1966). Although the couple never returned to Alaska to live after their move to Wyoming, for the next two decades Mardy and Olaus made many trips into the wilderness of Alaska.
In Jackson Hole, Mardy served on the school board and campaigned to support education and the local library. She and Olaus loved to dance, and they helped organize dances for teenagers. During World War II, Mardy did volunteer work, grew a victory garden and managed a dude ranch, while Olaus served as superintendent of the hospital and studied the "coyote problem" in Yellowstone. Olaus was a "tolerated maverick" in the Survey because he disagreed with its policy of eradicating predators.
Poisoning and trapping of so-called predators and killing rodents, and the related insecticide and herbicide programs, are evidences of human immaturity. The use of the term 'vermin' as applied to so many wild creatures is a thoughtless criticism of nature's arrangement of producing varied life on this planet. - Olaus Murie
In 1937, Olaus accepted a council seat on the recently created Wilderness Society. Combining the logic of a scientist with the passion of an artist, Olaus proved persuasive in helping to enlarge existing national park boundaries and to create additional new units. Olaus' testimony on the unnatural boundaries of Olympic National Monument helped to convince President Franklin D. Roosevelt to add the great rain forests of the Bogachiel and Hoh River valleys. Olaus' vocal concern for a more ecological or natural boundary for the elk of the Grand Teton area helped to create Jackson Hole National Monument in 1943 and to achieve national park status a few years later.
In 1945, Olaus resigned his position with the Survey and later went on to become president of The Wilderness Society in 1950. He was also a president of the Wildlife Society and a director of the Izaak Walton League of America. He received the Audubon Medal, the Audubon Society's highest award, in 1959 and the citation described Olaus as "the personification of the spirit of wilderness." Mardy also worked at various times for the Izaak Walton League and The Wilderness Society.
In 1956, Mardy, Olaus and other field biologists traveled to the upper Sheenjek River on the south slope of the Brooks Range, inside what is now the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. That trip began the campaign to protect the area as a wildlife refuge. The couple recruited former U.S. Supreme Court Justice William Douglas to help persuade President Eisenhower to set aside 8 million acres as the Arctic National Wildlife Range, which was expanded to 19 million acres and renamed in 1980. The idea of preserving an entire ecological system became the intellectual and scientific foundation for the creation of a new generation of large natural parks, especially those established by the Alaska National Interests Lands Conservation Act. By the time of his death on October 21, 1963, Olaus had earned a prominent position in the historical ranks of eminent American preservationists. Although he did not live to see the Wilderness Act passed, its enactment was in part attributable to his work and convictions. Mardy, however, attended the signing of the Act, by President Lyndon Johnson, in the Rose Garden of the White House on September 3, 1964.
After her husband's death, Mardy began writing and took over much of her husband's conservation work. Their log cabin home in Moose, Wyoming, where Olaus had directed The Wilderness Society, became a center for anyone interested in the conservation movement. It was from that house in the woods, now the Murie Ranch that was declared a National Historic District in 1997, that Mardy began writing letters and articles, traveling to hearings and making speeches. She returned to Alaska to survey potential wilderness areas for the National Park Service and worked on the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act that was signed by President Carter in 1980. That legislation set aside 104 million acres of land in Alaska and doubled the size of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Her tireless efforts as a conservation advocate preserved some of the most important wilderness areas left on the planet.
"I am testifying as an emotional woman and I would like to ask you, gentlemen, what's wrong with emotion? Beauty is a resource in and of itself. Alaska must be allowed to be Alaska, that is her greatest economy. I hope the United States of America is not so rich that she can afford to let these wildernesses pass by, or so poor she cannot afford to keep them."- Mardy Murie - In congressional testimony about the Alaska Lands Act
Mardy received a great many awards and honors, including the Audubon Medal in 1980, the John Muir Award in 1983, and the Robert Marshall Conservation Award in 1986. She was made an Honorary Park Ranger by the National Park Service and received an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters from the University of Alaska. In 1998 President Clinton awarded her the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Nearing her 100th birthday in 2002, Mardy was honored with the J.N. Ding Darling Conservationist of the Year Award, the National Wildlife Federation's highest honor. On October 19, 2003, Mardy died peacefully at her home in Moose at the age of 101.
About the Murie Center
The Murie Center was created in 1997 as a non-profit dedicated to carrying on the work of the Murie family. For several years the center shared the Murie Ranch with Mardy, deeply appreciating her life long commitment to wilderness. With Mardy's passing on October 19, 2003, the center is now stepping into her role as a voice for wild places.
The Murie Center inspires people to act mindfully on behalf of wild nature and explores the importance connection between nature and the human spirit. The center is located on the historic Murie Ranch in Grand Teton National Park, where it carries forward the values inherent in the Muries' teachings: respect for nature, the importance of wilderness, and the opportunities for responsible action. The center accomplishes its mission in three primary ways:
The center broadens the conservation community by sharing the Murie story and place and strengthens conservation by connecting leadership to a personal land ethic. It perpetuates conservation by mentoring young adults to life choices that support wild lands and sustainable communities.
The center uses a deeper, more personal form of communication in its work than is often found in public discourse. The Murie Conversation requires engagement of body, mind and imagination. The unique character of the conversations comes from the belief that to encourage a conservation ethic and convince people of the need to live with more respect for nature means one must pay attention to human attitudes, values, relationships and emotions. At the center, people set aside busy work schedules and reconnect with land and the spirit of place.
There are many ways to participate in the center's work. The center publishes a yearly course catalog that lists workshops and retreats open to the general public. As a friend of the center, folks receive our yearly mailings and newsletters. The center has a bookstore of Murie books and videos.
The center also partners with organizations to offer meetings, retreats, trainings and other activities that are suited to the simple accommodations on the rustic, historic Murie Ranch. Contact the center to schedule a program or meeting. Locally, the center runs the Teton Sustainability Project to engage the community in practical, Earth-sensitive lifestyle choices. It is the goal of The Murie Center to inspire the protection of wild lands and to encourage communities dedicated to harmonious living within the rest of nature.
Charlie Craighead, film producer, held a benefit concert on August 6, 1997 at Jackson Lake Lodge, Jackson Lake, WY, to raise funds for a film he was doing about Mardy Murie, sometimes called the "grandmother of the conservation movement," because of her writings and work in saving our natural resources. John Denver came to play and sing a ballad he had written about Mardy and her husband, Olaus, "A Song for All Lovers," but Mardy wasn't there because it was her potluck bridge night. Mardy was the recipient of the Medal of Freedom, this country's highest honor for civilians and many other awards from the Sierra Club and other environmental groups.
John Denver visits Mardy Murie in her Wyoming home and sings the song he wrote for her and her husband Olas. From the video "artic dance: the Mardy Murie story" available from various sources...a wonderful documentary and a joy to watch. No copyright infringement intended, posted merely to spread the word and remind that the need continues.
From The Wilderness Cabin (1961) by Calvin Rutstrum
The cabin as a distinct American style, or as a means to a unique and rewarding way of life, is apparently here to stay. Its simple, elemental form in our complex modern civilization has retained its color and its meaning. It persists as one of the best of our living traditions.
While the modern cabin is often so elaborate as to be classified as a house, and the modern house, because of its owner's wish for simple living, can sometimes be mistaken for a cabin, the overlap has fostered, if anything, the basic architectural idea.
The influence of the pioneer's cabin is still very evident. We have retained much of the picturesque quality of the early cabins and some of their structural principles. Here the similarity seems to end.
Biographical Notes
Birth: October 26, 1895, Hobart, Indiana Death: February 5, 1982, Osceola, Wisconsin
Author and conservationist Calvin Rutstrum arrived in St. Paul with his parents in 1898. Rutstrum worked as a cowboy in Montana in the early 1900s, a medical corpsman in the Marine Corps, real estate and automobile salesman in Minneapolis in the early 1920s, and as a detective investigating bank robberies for the American Banking Association from 1925-40. After World War II, he wrote articles for Minneapolis and St. Paul newspapers and was director of wilderness camping at Lake Hubert Camps. He was a columnist for the Osceola Sun (Wisconsin) from the late 1970s to 1981. With Sigurd F. Olson, he and other conservationists campaigned successfully to restrict airplane travel across the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota in the 1940s. Rutstrum authored fifteen books on wilderness camping, nature, and canoeing.
Selected WorksThe titles below link to the catalog record in MnPALS, the Minnesota Historical Society’s library catalog. Please click on your browser's back button to return.