What if our efforts to save the places we love ended up destroying them? That's the question at the heart of Dammed If You Don't—a short fictional novella written by Chris Kalman.
A dedicated climber and outdoors enthusiast of many years, Kalman has seen some of his favorite places in the world change dramatically due to an exponential increase in visitation combined with insufficient efforts at resource management. Those who love the outdoors almost unanimously agree that big extractive industries (clear-cut timber farming, mining, drilling, hydroelectric dams, etc) are irrevocably ruining the world's last wild places. But what about the effects of our own actions and behavior as outdoor enthusiasts?
Dammed If You Don't tells the story of a deeply-conflicted photographer who tries to save Lahuenco—a remote valley in Patagonian Chile—by showing the world how beautiful it is. But in showing the world how beautiful it is, he inadvertently puts Lahuenco in peril—including a rare and mysterious salamander whose sudden appearance there forces the scientific community to rethink its understanding of evolutionary biology, and possibly human history itself.
Written as if by and for some 15 yo boy. Kalman doesn't trust his reader - over explaining every detail instead of believing that we understand the subtext. Big words and Spanish used to sound smart, but draw away from the story. Predictable and text-book morally gray male lead. The discussion on various conservation and eco tourism perspectives almost save this book and could lead to interesting philosophical wilderness debate. Though, it's also discussion I've heard from jaded old "misunderstood" climber guys. I'd be willing to let this all go and even recommend it if it weren't for the fact that the female characters are characterized and used by the author as literal objects on the narrators journey. Honestly, this books sucks, and furthers the 'boys club's often found in the climbing community.
I consumed the book over a long weekend of backpacking in the woods which put an sardonic spin on my reading. I barely noticed my heavy pack and tired legs as I trekked back to civilization lost in thought. That marked Dammed If You Don't great book for me; it has stayed with me long after it left my lap. The author does a wonderful job of negotiating the interconnected topics of capitalism, climate change, gentrification, adventure, relationships, politics, mentorship, culturalism, and American exceptionalism a la Chris doesn't answer any questions but leaves the whole pie to be surveyed and lets the reader decide if there's a villain, if there's a hero, or maybe neither. Only history will tell. We'll all be under water soon anyways?
I feel like I spent an evening with a man on his deathbed, recounting his deepest regrets. There wasn't any specific horrific event, but I can't help but to feel a little haunted.
Cochamó Valley in Chile is as close to Yosemite National Park before it had roads, crowds, and park rangers as it can be to when John Muir explored its wilderness in the 1880s. I first learned about Cochamó from Chris Kalman when he and I crossed paths nearly 10 years ago over writing assignments. Since then, I have, and perhaps you have too, learned how wrapped up he is with the valley, the Cochamó Valley.
When Chris first visited Cochamó he thought he knew how Muir felt first coming to Yosemite. And like Muir, Chris made first ascents, some free soloed, in the untouched valley. Kalman grew into a champion of Cochamó conservation because he admired its beauty, and he knew it could be ruined with a dam, mined for minerals, or trampled by crowds and luxury hotels. Muir knew Yosemite Valley needed to be preserved, and Chris likewise took action for his Valle when he established Friends of Cochamó to help protect this unique place on Earth.
Although you may not be as familiar with his favorite valley in Chile, you may be familiar with him if you consume climbing content these days. Chris has written for Alpinist Magazine and often conducts podcast interviews for the podcast The Cutting Edge, run by the editors of the American Alpine Journal, which Chris is an editor, of course. He’s also authored a guidebook and two fiction works. His first novella was As Above, So Below, which was self-published in 2018, and his second, despite the punny title, has everything to do with loving and protecting places, especially like Cochamó Valley.
Chris’s 2021 work, Dammed If You Don’t — a 2021 Banff Literature Competition Finalist — takes us on the lifetime journey of John Mercer. Mercer visits South America and finds grand potential in the fictional Valley of Lahuenco. He awakens the eco-tourists and backpackers of the world through social media and slide shows to it peril. The valley quickly becomes trodden with campsites with an few visitors carelessly scaring grasslands from tent sites and littering. He discovers a new species of salamander, and valley becomes more valuable and even more popular, since it suddenly has a mascot and a new gimmick for visiting, even as it brings the species to the brink of extinction.
The story explored all of the possible permutations for Lahuenco with Mercer as the central agent of change. Chris presented the reader with the unintended consequences of Mercer’s affection for Lahuenco and the commercial or capitalist opportunities, as carried out by the antagonist Señor Ackerman, and asks not only who wins, but who is actually in control? The populace? Those with money? Those with the land?
Although Mercer’s adventure has similarities to Chris’ experiences with Cochamó, Mercer is a modern likeness to John Muir. Fit, constantly in motion, and fire-like (both a bright light and able to ignite combustibles,) Mercer carried his case for protecting Lahuenco to the world through advocacy and fundraising, instead of the President and Congress, as Muir had done with Yosemite. I won’t ruin the end for you, but tempt you to read it for yourself by stating that Mercer’s solution, though a little trite, was worth me pondering for days after I finished the book. Interior art by Craig Muderlak.
Kalman makes wonderful observations about how the world works. It’s heavy at times. I don’t agree with the dark shading of values he used to illustrate Señor Ackerman’s reasoning and strategy for exploiting the Lahuenco Valley, but his points were valid, and did — despite his direct statement to the contrary — did make him appear to be a real-world Bond Movie villain. (Tangentially, it mildly inspired me to write a parody where Ackerman hangs Mercer from an overhanging cliff above a pile of sharp scree and forced his girlfriend on a tourist-attraction zip line that when passing would cut the rope. Exit Ackerman cackling before he reaches the dangling rope.)
Dammed If You Don’t is fundamentally a discussion piece. Chris packed in a very long winding tale into a small package, and hits on the theme of preservation in several ways, with land, and Mercer himself to name two. Chris used a third-person narrator with limited perspective that limits the story from having even more impact; I wish I had gotten to know Mercer better. Though his values and how he dealt and overcame his challenges became apparent, I would prefer if I could have read it through stories and dialogue rather than being told first and shown later. For this reason, John Mercer doesn’t become a character I was emotionally attached. When his climactic moment arrived, I saw it unfold, but without a sense for how he would turn out after the book. But again, it’s definitely worth having a discussion over (shoot me an email if you read it, because I would enjoy debriefing about the book with you.)
Go buy and read Chris’ book and shoot me a message. And I will look forward to visiting the Cochamó Valley with Wunderkind and Schnickelfritz one day. I think Chris’s book will help it stay beautiful until I get there.
This was originally posted on SuburbanMountaineer.com
I'm still not quite sure what to make of this book. It is a good story. It's entertaining. It reads well. I'm not quite sure what to make of the main character. He's not exactly a hero or a villain, and yet in some ways he is both. The ending didn't feel very satisfying.
Dammed If You Don’t" initially captivated me with its blend of truth and fiction, offering a compelling narrative that felt eerily close to reality. The depiction of this valley not unfamiliar with Cochamó as a battleground for conservation struggles hinted at the challenges we face in preserving our natural wonders.
However, as the story progressed, I couldn't help but notice some shortcomings. The portrayal of female characters felt somewhat dated, lacking the depth and authenticity that modern storytelling demands. As a female climber, I found myself wishing for more nuanced and empowering representations of women in outdoor pursuits.
Furthermore, the prevalence of the white male perspective throughout the narrative felt somewhat clichéd, with yet another white male protagonist positioned as the savior. While the story is undoubtedly about conservation efforts, it's hard to ignore the familiar trope of the white hero coming to the rescue.
Nevertheless, "Dammed If You Don’t" prompts important conversations about conservation and the impact of human activity on fragile ecosystems. Its portrayal of Lahuenco Valley serves as a reminder of the urgent need to prioritize environmental preservation in the face of growing threats.
In summary, while "Dammed If You Don’t" has its classic narrative, it remains a thought-provoking read that highlights crucial environmental issues. It's a story that encourages reflection and discussion, even as it falls short of fully capturing the complexities of its subject matter.