Our self-proclaimed “friends” at the Sierra Club have reached a new low… or is it a new high? 

(Thanks to the good folks at Field and Stream’s Field Notes blog for getting my blood pressure up this morning.)

Apparently they’re concerned about the ecological disaster looming in the woods as bear hunters’ hounds do their doody on the trail.  According to this article in the Visalia Times-Delta, the fear is that the dog poo will somehow spread death and disease to “endangered” species in the forest.

Earlier this month, Richard Garcia, an executive member of the Kern-Kaweah Chapter of the Sierra Club, asked the Tulare County Board of Supervisors to support his group’s efforts to persuade the California Fish and Game Commission to change bear-hunting rules in the state. They want hunters to keep their dogs on leashes at all times and to remove their dogs’ feces from hunting areas.

Dogs and their feces, which can spread disease, threaten such animals as the Pacific fisher, American marten and California wolverine — all members of the weasel-ferret family — and the Sierra Nevada red fox, Garcia said.

“The problem is, we have some animals in our local national forest that are on the brink of extinction,” he told supervisors.

I’m sorry, Mr. Garcia, but the problem animals aren’t the ones running around on four legs.  It’s morons on two legs we, the wildlife, and the environment, have to worry about. 

Let’s be honest here.  This isn’t about saving endangered species or stopping the spread of disease (even ignoring for a moment, the fact that good hounds can be pretty expensive, and most houndsmen take pains to keep them disease free).  It’s about harassing hunters by attacking legitimate hunting practices.  It’s about using spurious claims and ignorant speculation to restrict an activity with which these Sierra Clubbers disagree. 

In the interest of full disclosure, only one chapter of the Sierra Club is currently engaged in this discussion. The national chapter doesn’t appear to be involved, which may indicate that some level of intelligence still functions in the organization. 

(A side note:  I’ll never forget the little gang of Sierra Club hikers I encountered on a horse ride in the East Bay hills.  My horse, as horses do, unloaded her bowels along the trail as the group was approaching.  One or two gingerly stepped around it, but another stopped and glared indignantly at me.  “Are you going to clean that up,” he queried?

“As soon as someone cleans up behind the cattle and coyotes,” I replied. 

He glared.  I glared.  And away he huffed.)

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