Stoke & Place
How long does it take for stoke to transmute into stewardship?
A few years ago when I read an article by Ethan Linck titled “Your Stoke Won’t Save Us”, I found myself generally agreeing with the premise but uncertain about what the consequences of the agreement, for me, actually were. He says stoke is an ethos claiming “the best life is one lived with unbridled enthusiasm and the uncomplicated pursuit of experience. For those of us who identify with modern outdoor recreation culture, stoke has increasingly begun to mediate our relationship with the natural world.” And he goes on to argue that stoke alone is not enough to get climbers, skiers, and runners to care about the landscapes in which they recreate.
His definition of stoke reminds me of the Nike slogan in some ways. Just do it (without thinking too hard about it). Is that how I recreate? I’m actually not sure. When I walk through a burned forest as a part of an ambitious (and possibly stoke-fueled) fastpacking trip, do I stay focused on the ambition? Or do I feel sadness over the warming climate? And if I do feel sadness, do I do anything about it? Or are my observations while recreating pretty much just like reading the news? Scrolling through beauty and destruction mile after mile, only to close the phone, the tent fly, and doze off to sleep afterward feeling powerless.