It hurts to write it; it hurts even worse to witness the impending bear die-off this summer, and do nothing.
Yet the best way to deal with Mammothâ€™s starving bears is to let nature take its amoral, cruel course. As painful as it might be, the very best thing for the bears is to let them die in their own way.
Starvation is nasty business, but itâ€™s better than putting bullets in their brains. Certainly it is better than to keep them on the razorâ€™s edge of life by handing them freebies, only to watch them become problem bears later.
Mammoth has one more week of wiggle room before heading back into bankruptcy proceedings. Pardon us if weâ€™re not on the sidelines waving our maroon and gold pom-poms. We are on a losing streak. You are not going to hear â€śWin one for the Gipperâ€ť from us.
Losing streaks dampen emotions and harden doubts. Mammoth is nearing the end in its bankruptcy battle with Mammoth Lakes Land Acquisitionâ€™s team of crack lawyers, who are riding an impressive winning streak.
Was there ever a better week than this one? What a stew of stuff! If you could clip-and-save a week, this might be the one.
Weâ€™re not really sure how to digest this multi-course meal. Set upon a mise en place of Mammothâ€™s municipal bankruptcy, airport subsidies and the closure of June Mountain Ski Area, we might have thought this could have been a poisonous week.
But it wasnâ€™t. We had a fine time at our French, Eastside, multi-course feast.
From time to time, we use our idle moments around here for a little daydreaming. This week, it was all about business plans. Donâ€™t even ask how it started.
Itâ€™s rough to make business plans in a town headed for bankruptcy, in a state that has no money, and a country with an economy as stable as an aspen log over a creek in May, but we soldiered on with a couple of nifty ideas:
There is no natural reason for people to live in Mammoth Lakes. None. But we live here anyway because we like to have seasons loaded with fun.
We ski. We hike. We climb. We ride bikes, drive off road, pull fish from the water and then do it all again.
We pay a price to live here, though, and the price tag varies depending on the bill Mother Nature whips up in her ledger book.
This summer the price tag has to do with fireâ€”indiscriminant, deadly and entirely natural. Wendilyn Grasseschiâ€™s story, beginning on Page 1., captures the situation.