18 | ADIRONDACK PEEKS A Recount with Bill McKibben Sherry Roulston, #12512 June 7, 2023 I had the opportunity to communicate with author, educator, and environmentalist Bill McKibben this summer. I’ve been a fan of his for years and enjoy reading the many books he’s written from Earth to Wandering Home to The Flag, the Cross, and the Station Wagon: A Graying American Looks Back at His Suburban Boyhood and Wonders What the Hell Happened. Radio Free Vermont kept me in stitches. Bill McKibben helped found 350.org, the first international climate movement that has organized protests on every continent. In addition, he is the founder of Third Act, which organizes individuals over the age of 60 for climate and justice. Following are Bill’s responses to my questions. * * * SR (Sherry Roulston): Wandering Home captivated me! Years after the hike, is there a special memory that comes to mind? Possibly an afterthought that never made it into the book, a valuable takeaway or lesson learned later that only hindsight can shine light on? BM (Bill McKibben): I've thought often of the day I spent crossing the Hoffman Notch wilderness. It's not country I really know, though it isn't that far from Johnsburg. It was lovely—big, with gorgeous trees. All I did was hike the main trail bisecting it, and I was dying to wander cross lots. It kind of stands in my mind for all those other big chunks of the Park I fear I'll never really get to know. We are so blessed with this enormous area, but it's a little frustrating too: you want to wander it all. SR: Now that you’re in your sixties and have seen so many changes regarding the Adirondacks, what still frustrates you? What still inspires you? What are you hopeful for? BM: I am more in love with the Adirondacks than ever, in part because I'm reminded so often that it's a second chance Eden, an Alaska of redemption. So much of the rest of the planet is on the opposite tack, heading in the wrong direction. But here—at least until climate change intervenes—the wild is getting deeper. What frustrates me is that we haven't been able to entirely crack the human side of this conservation possibility: it hurts to see hamlets with schools and supermarkets closing, and homes turned over to Airbnb's. But there are real efforts underway, and as in the woods hope springs eternal. SR: What things do you look at and marvel at, regarding our conservation efforts today that couldn’t have been possible years ago? BM: There's so much of a higher level of cooperation between environmentalists, state agencies, and local officials. I remember when it was mostly open war, but over time—and with lots of effort from genius leaders like Mike Carr—more and more Adirondackers have seen how their interests overlap and align. The air temperature may sadly be higher, but the political temperature has been dialed down a bit. SR: What is the truth that you embrace in your daily life, what is your creed? Has it changed over the years? BM: It takes organizing to make change. I used to think logic and reason and data would suffice, but eventually it became clear to me that really powerful actors—like the fossil fuel industry—only yield when you can assemble enough people to cause them some trouble. It shouldn't be that way—I feel silly every time I head off to jail—but I fear that’s the way it is. SR: What have you loved about your life and what has loved you back the most? BM: I've loved getting to know and feel comfortable in wild places. That's not where I grew up, but it's where I chose to spend my life, and I've been endlessly repaid. Above all I've come to cherish winter, that season when friction gives up its sovereignty, and even the clumsy like me can glide across the surface of the earth. It's magic I'll miss horribly if we manage to melt it. SR: In your pursuit of knowledge, awareness, and change, you have been spotlighted throughout the world. How has this changed you, or impacted your life? What would you tell your younger self if you could go back in time? BM: Well, I've really enjoyed the chance to shine the spotlight on others. I'm glad that along with being an organizer, I'm a writer—it's a craft that lets me tell the stories of other people as often as I can. Bill McKibben in the Wilcox Lake Wild Forest
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