I spent most of my twenties single, and eventually started to believe (happily) that I might be a lone wolf for the rest of my life. Which wasn’t a terrible proposition: I was (and am) surrounded by incredible people, and lead a joyful life full of adventure. Namely, long days in the backcountry, on my skis, on my feet, or on my mountain bike. I loved being able to do exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. Then, I fell in love.
My boyfriend is incredible, and in so many ways a great match for me. He loves to bike, ski, fly-fish, and camp. But the trouble is, he also loves bait- fishing, ATVs, dirtbikes, snowmobiles, and giant diesel trucks. When it comes to the activities we share—like mountain biking, for instance—he’d rather hop on a lift and descend something gnarly at mach speed in the front country, then camp in his truck. I’d rather strap some bike bags on my frame and pedal 40 miles to camp in the alpine.
We’ve been able to find common ground on a lot of this—we’ll ride at a bike park one day, then ride an alpine epic the next—but what I just can’t get behind is the gas-guzzling, loud-as-hell, erosion-causing motorsports. That, and the big truck, which he does use for towing, but still feels wildly unnecessary, dangerous for pedestrians and cyclists, and bad for the planet. We’re both liberal, but this feels like almost a political or ethical divide.
I’ve come around a lot in the last few years. When I went hunting for the first time, it really opened my eyes to the beauty of something that I used to think was wrapped up in machismo and domination. But I just don’t think I’m going to have a spiritual awakening about ATVs and motorcycles. In fact, they kind of give me the ick. He’s so excited to share that part of his life with me, and I want to support him (or at least understand the appeal). What’s a leave-no-trace gal with a brap-brap boyfriend to do?
When I told my friend about your problem, he sighed and said, “Why are people so precious?”
I disagree with my friend’s judgment. I don’t think you’re being particularly precious. You’re not writing because you want to dump your boyfriend over his obnoxious, noisy-ass motorsports. You’re writing because you want to support him. You don’t want to yuck his yum. And that makes all the difference.
In other words, kudos. Finding love is rare. You don’t want to lose it over something that’s ultimately symbolic.
But wait, readers might be thinking. Motorsports aren’t symbolic! They do guzzle gas! They can cause erosion! Big trucks are more dangerous to pedestrians!
Sure. But you know what else guzzles fossil fuels? Plane travel. You know what else is dangerous to pedestrians? Driving when you’re overtired. But while it would be awfully surprising to hear someone suggest that a relationship is incompatible because one partner, say, takes unnecessary plane trips or makes long drives late at night, I wouldn’t be shocked if some judgy folks think your relationship is destined to fizzle. That’s because the difference they perceive between you and your boyfriend isn’t truly about environmentalism. (Can you say with confidence that his carbon footprint is higher than yours? All factors considered?) It’s about class.
ATVs, trucks, hunting: these things are coded rural, working class, conservative. (In large part, I suspect this is because of the urban/rural divide: is emphasized in areas with high traffic because more people means more incremental damage to trails and habitats.) I know, there are a million exceptions to these stereotypes—but there’s a reason you felt a need to state that you and your boyfriend are both liberal. The symbolic divide feels “almost ethical” not because it necessarily represents fundamental ethical differences, but because it’s coded as such. I mean—you like fly-fishing, he likes bait-fishing, and that’s supposed to represent a difference in your values? The only one who cares is the bait.
I mean—you like fly-fishing, he likes bait-fishing, and that’s supposed to represent a difference in your values? The only one who cares is the bait.
Understand that I don’t bring up class to dismiss you. These are very real forces and issues. But it makes me wonder if part of your worry is about being seen with someone who’s displaying different class signifiers than you are. If so, then noticing those dynamics might help you figure out how you really feel, what’s at stake, and what you want to do about it.
I’d recommend taking some time to figure out if there really are ethical elements to your divide. I wouldn’t date someone who drove an ATV off-trail in vulnerable ecosystems, because I’d be grossed out by their destructive behavior—but I also wouldn’t date someone who bushwhacked in vulnerable ecosystems when they know they’re supposed to stay on-trail. The problem isn’t just the vehicle, but the fundamental disrespect. Is your boyfriend careful to stay on-road, drive safely, follow guidelines, and so on? If so, those are helpful things to remember when you get the ick. Take a deep breath and repeat to yourself: “He follows noise ordinances. He follows noise ordinances.” Then hop on your bike and take a ride to clear your head.
As for how to support him, it sounds like you’ve both found amazing ways to share your love of the outdoors together, and I’d recommend letting him take the lead on some of his favorite activities, too. Don’t think of snowmobiling as a replacement for skiing; think of it as a completely different pastime, like video games or chess, that you’re trying out so you can be together. If you try an activity and end up hating it, you don’t have to do it again, but it will mean a lot to him that you gave it a go. And if you’re uncomfortable about sleeping in his truck, then as you’re drifting off in his arms, cozy and dry, you can close your eyes and pretend it’s a Subaru.
Blair Braverman writes ϳԹ’s Tough Love column. As a musher, she uses an ATV frequently—although she normally has sled dogs pulling it.