The federal agency administered and coordinated through the Federal Wildlife Service, Department of Interior, is totally incapable of dealing with this. Like Peter Matthiessen, Peacock writes about the natural world with a novelist's eye and sensibility. He exhorts us gently and briefly in support of preserving a little habitat to let these creatures live. From the late '60s through the '80s, he followed and filmed these animals in an attempt to assemble a collective portrait of all grizzlies south of Canada. I mean, the earth is in terrible shape.
And, you know, these few last enclaves, these little remnants of that habitat, we call wilderness, and they still have the grizzly. Bears and humans came down from Alaska into the country, and, you know, a lot of animals died out during the last global warming of, you know, 14,000 years ago. Only flag comments that clearly need our attention. And it is the old sabot from England that he picked that model. Like Peter Matthiessen, Peacock writes about the natural world with a novelist's eye and sensibility.
And I really do believe we do have a common fate. Their solution to the high mortality is have the state start hunting licenses, you know? War-weary, he crawled into the vastness of the Rocky Mountain wilderness, where he found another besieged veteran, the American grizzly. Peacock, exhausted from a week of burying Ed, got the job. Grizzly bears, he writes, saved his life; now he is committed to their survival. Eventually, you know, I lived encamped in the Northern Rockies, eventually in Yellowstone.
Like Peter Matthiessen, Peacock writes about the natural world with a novelist's eye and sensibility. I believe him, he is trustworthy. In this book, he writes about it beautifully, in prose that begs comparison to the best of Peter Matthiessen… His meditations on war and wilderness are painfully apt today, with America fighting new battles abroad, led by an administration that seems to be at war with wilderness at home. He's the old guard of environmental activism, and we wanted to preserve some of his wisdom and experience for the next generation. Grappling with the death of his friend Edward Abbey and an enduring case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Peacock walks the deserts of the American southwest, the valleys of Nepal, the mountains of the Northern Rockies, and the Central Highlands of Vietnam in an epic story of a soldier forever seeking home.
He tells us that those vets naturally moved toward the edges of Syphilization, the wildest country they could find. It is the saga of one man's spiritual rebirth through contact with wild nature and the primitive American landscape. Traveling on foot through trailless areas of Glacier and Yellowstone parks and into the Southwest desert and Mexico, he observed the bears feeding, denning and playing. As Peacock says best himself: Vietnam gave us a useful pessimism, a pragmatic irreverence I can wear comfortably down any bear trail. It has many things in common with Walking It Off, which was written and published later but actually feels like a fine book to read in preparation for Grizzly Years.
So our strengths worked pretty well together. And he invited me over one cold evening, and I drove a motorcycle, and he was way out in the desert. Here, Ed Abbey explains the rationale behind direct action and protest. So it can, in a matter of a couple of years, really plummet. I took my first trip down the Baja peninsula before the road was paved, spending my 30th birthday watching scores of whales sound on a sea as calm as glass off Bahia de Los Angeles.
I believe him, he is trustworthy. I believe him, he is trustworthy. War-weary, he crawled into the vastness of the Rocky Mountain wilderness, where he found another besieged veteran, the American grizzly. He calls for a revolution of the spirit through an immersion in the natural world. In this new landscape, humans managed to adapt to unfamiliar habitats and dangerous creatures in the midst of a wildly fluctuating climate.
And by the time I got to his house, I was shaking with the cold. Doug Peacock was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in nonfiction for 2007 for his environmental writing. As Peacock tracks the bears, his story turns into a thrilling narrative about the breaking down of suspicion between man and beast in the wild. Grizzly Years is ultimately a love story about a man who returns from war shorn of his soul, and recovers his soul through his efforts to study and protect the grandest predator on earth, Ursus horribilis. We, as a species, our own survival, I believe, is also up for grabs, just like the grizzlies. We want to welcome you both to Democracy Now! There, I ran into grizzlies. And our guests have been Doug and Andrea Peacock.
As Peacock tracks the bears, his story turns into a thrilling narrative about the breaking down of suspicion between man and beast in the wild. A rare collaboration between Doug Peacock and his dear friend and mentor Peter Matthiessen, who later officiated a marriage for Doug and Andrea. This book does not lie. Doug Peacock writes with great heart, eloquence, and verve. The colonization of North America by the Clovis and earlier people 13,000 to 15,000 years ago has been shrouded in mystery and conjecture. With trees, rivers, and lakes. Peacock spent a few decades traveling seasonally to visit with the same bears year after year, observing where they bed down and den and eat and mate, learning their habits and finding in respect for their wildness some peace for himself.
But what about the book itself? I felt something pass between us. This book does not lie. For nearly twenty years, alone and unarmed, author Doug Peacock traversed the rugged mountains of Montana and Wyoming tracking the magnificent grizzly. He calls for a revolution of the spirit through an immersion in the natural world. We will not remove any content for bad language alone, or being critical of a particular book. The Yellowstone ecosystem for grizzly bears is an island, and it will not survive without some kind of connectivity, you know, corridors, whatever.