AVANT-GARDE POLITICS Muddy Consciences, Dirty Minds

Author: Ben Gore

A young man and a young woman lie naked in the cool darkness of the third floor of Forest West. They speak in quiet tones as Mozart plays, almost inaudibly, in the background.

"Some friends of mine took me mountain biking up near the Snow Bowl yesterday," he says.

"That must have been great. Had you ever been before?" she replies, almost enthusiastically.

"It was my first time. I thought I was going to enjoy it but … but it actually frightened me a little."

"Why? I always enjoy getting up into the mountains."

"Well, for one it's really hard work pedaling uphill. Your legs burn and your lungs feel like they're going to tear. It's not like going up to Mad River or anything and taking the chair lift up to go skiing. I feel like it brought me too close to my body, you know? I mean that sort of thing shows you that you're really just an animal."

"Exercise is good for you," she says sleepily.

"It's not just that, though. There was mud. I mean, they call it mud season, but I've never really understood it before. My clothes are filthy; my bike is filthy. Everything in this room smells like dirt. I don't know how I'm going to clean it all. What a ridiculous sport."

"I like the smell. It gives the room a more natural feel. It makes me more comfortable. It's kind of nice to have something overpower that cologne and aftershave and stuff you keep in here. I feel like you're beating around the bush, though. I feel like you're not getting to what scared you."

"You're right. What happened … I mean, we got to the top of this mountain, right? After climbing for like two hours and there was this vista with no trees, the edge of a cliff or something. And there was nothing there. It was just mountains and trees for as far as the eye could see. There was no sound but the wind, no cars, no airplanes, no factories. Just absolute stillness and this breeze. And the breeze, it was so sharp and empty. Nothing chemical on it, just air. It was the most lonely, terrifying thing, beyond imagining, to stand there and realize that there are places where humans aren't, where we aren't the masters of everything, where you're alone. I can't stand to be alone."

She pulls him closer. "You're not alone, don't worry about that. That must have been a pretty powerful experience, it sounds like, like revelation almost."

"It was. And after all the fear died down, after biking down the hill. Gee, that was so damned hard making it down that mountain, so slow, too. I mean you had to concentrate the whole time, and we never got above maybe 20 miles an hour. Anyways, I was sitting in my Expedition driving back home, trying to figure out what to do about this experience, and it hit me."

"You're not going to become one of those tree-huggers down in Weybridge are you?" she says, getting a little alarmed.

"No, no of course not. Well, I was thinking back to last year and all that anti-SUV garbage, how those elitist so-called 'environmentalists' were harping on us for having SUVs even though we never used them. And I was thinking, 'What better way to answer their charges and solve this problem than to start on off-roading club?' I mean, it's perfect. It's a way to enjoy the mountains without getting winded, without ever having to deal with our bodies at all. Nothing to do for clean-up except go to the car wash on Route 7. But the best part is that the problem, the feeling of loneliness, the quiet, the empty air will be solved. People will never have to be subjected to that as long as we're up there in our cars. Hell, if we're successful maybe we can even give the air up there that tang I miss so much from back home in Jersey."

"You know, you don't have to worry about that whole size thing, I love you anyways," she says as she strokes his thigh.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you know how they say that people with big cars are just compensating for other 'size deficiencies.' I mean, you don't have to start a club for tough guys with trucks just because of that, I love you anyways."

"It's not about that at all. Jesus." He pulls back from her a little. "Do you really think it's like that? This is far more important than that. This is about giving everyone, even people who don't like to exercise or get dirty, a chance to get into the mountains. This is about having fun even without skill. This is about, first and foremost, giving the wilderness a little taste of civilization, making the world comfortable for people. This … this is a really important step, philosophically, for this school."

She pulls back, too, confused, angry. She starts fishing around for her clothes. "You know what? I've tried to understand you, but I'm not sure I can deal with this tonight. What about erosion? What about air pollution? Did you ever consider that some people like the clean air? That some people don't want to hear your car? Did you ever think that maybe it's good to get dirty and get your legs tired, really burning, to feel like an animal every once in a while?"

"Who the hell are you? What'd you do with my girlfriend?"

"You know, I think I've humored you enough. This whole idea is bull***t. This is a bunch of punk kids from New Jersey tearing up the land because they're too lazy and scared of being wild to get out of their damn cars. This is a bunch of guys who're insecure about their genitalia and feel the need to compensate. I'm going home tonight. You need to think about the consequences of your actions." She finishes buttoning her shirt and grabs her North Face parka from the back of his desk chair. "Good night." She walks out and slams the door.

He thinks about it for a second. "Screw her. A goddamn closet hippy after all that. Too bad, really, she was good in bed." He rolls over and falls asleep, dreaming of V-8 engines and double axles.