Many “small world” events populate my life. My past dogs me. Old beaus show up 2,000 miles from where they ought to be. Almost any random stranger on the streets of Albuquerque knows someone I know. The woman in the pool in Ouray, CO discusses an appellate tax case I worked on that went to the U.S. Supreme Court.

But few of my life history stories run as deep and long as my relationship with Bill and Sally Meadows. Bill was my first boss at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, TN in 1976. A few days after he hired me, my dad died of Lou Gehrig’s disease, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. “Take all the time you need,” Bill said. “You can start whenever you get back.” And that was that. We’ve been loyal and heartfelt friends for 30 years. Sally has shared our relationship all 30 years, and I have profound ties with her too. She has one of the best social consciences I know and is active with Common Cause and other worthy groups.

Photo by Merri Rudd, (c) 2006

To honor my dad’s memory, Bill gave me a membership in the Sierra Club in 1977. In our non-working hours, we both volunteered for various non-profit environmental organizations. My beau at the time was a botanist with the Tennessee Heritage Program, and he and I led botany hikes on weekends. Bill helped me get my next job at the Tennessee Environmental Council. After 20 years at Vanderbilt, he worked at Sweetbriar College for a few years, then at the Sierra Club as development director.

But he came into his ‘national conservation leader’ own when he became president of the Wilderness Society. Yes, THE Wilderness Society in Washington, D.C. with offices scattered across America, many in the west. If you read a news article about proposed drilling for oil on the Arctic National Refuge, chances are you’ll read a quote from Bill Meadows. Check out legislative battles on ‘the hill’ in Washington, and Bill will have testified. At least a quarter of the U.S. Senators know him personally. Interview a consortium of groups who love wilderness, and Bill has probably meddled in some of their meetings and policy strategizing. We think he’s a big deal; he thinks there’s always more to do.

The Wilderness Society has had two meetings of its Governing Council and staff in Albuquerque, one in 2000 and one a few days ago. And so I came to be one of the 20 or so wilderness society staff, governing council members, and a few locals, including trip leader Albuquerque City Council President Martin Heinrich, who traipsed onto America’s newest federally designated wilderness area, Ojito, near the Zia Pueblo off Highway 550. Mark and I had hiked several times on the periphery of Ojito, the “ACEC,” area of critical environmental concern, but never where we were on May 13. I was struck part by awe and part by irony at the moment. I felt history being made as I watched national conservation leaders hike on the new wilderness. But I was also mindful of the not-inconsiderable impact that 40+ human feet were having on the area.

Photo by Mark Justice Hinton (c) 2006

Bill and Sally have two Vanderbilt classmates now living in Albuquerque, who joined us on the hike–Robert and Diane Fleming. In typical “small world” fashion, Robert is a local dance fiddler and has played for several dances I’ve called.

The two-track trail ended at several flat (not vertical) panels of petroglyphs and the site of a recent seismosaur excavation. Most of us opted to hike off the edge of the cliff down to the wilderness floor below, over a sandy arroyo, up a hill, off another rocky cliff and over to some of the lowest elevation ponderosa pine trees in the state, complete with hoodoos and a perfectly shaded lunch spot. Along the way we observed gastroliths (jet black “dinosaur barf” stones, aka gizzard grinders), rare lavender blazing star flowers (looked a lot like a long-throated phlox), the bark of a walking stick cholla stripped by a porcupine (?), and Cabezon Peak off in the distance. Not to mention other mountain ranges spanning 100’s of square miles–Redondo Peak, Sandia Wilderness, Jemez Mountains, and more.

Photo by Merri Rudd, (c) 2006

We wandered in the wilderness for about three hours, then hit the dirt road where vans transported us home. I brought almond fudge, lemon cookies and a bag of ice cubes for the end of trip and also passed around 30-year-old photos of Bill. Many of his staff were not yet born when those photos of us were taken!

Bill says he likes to be out in the thick of things to get a “sense of place” and to be inspired to find new partnerships to preserve and protect wilderness areas. Bill shaped my own environmental conscience, awareness, and longtime love of the outdoors. We know there is much more to do, but Bill has shown us how to lead the pack in pursuit of wilderness preservation. Bill, we’re darn proud to know you. If we were wolves, you’d be our alpha male.

Photo by Robert Fleming, (c) 2006