A View of Extinction Rebellion from the American West

I grew up in the forest and mountains of Washington State, fishing with my father on Puget Sound and in the lake in front of our house, hiking the mountain trails on Mt. Rainier, camping and upland bird hunting in the Palouse.

I now live in the mountains in southern California. Most mornings when I leave my house I see coyotes and the rabbits they hope to catch for breakfast.

A few months ago, a mountain lion crossed the road in front of me, and for a moment, I thought I would be his breakfast.

The birds, butterflies and hummingbirds around me are a constant reminder of the spectacular fragility and beauty of the place where I’m lucky enough to live.

I’m an entrepreneur and a capitalist, though I think capitalism needs to evolve and evolve fast.

I own an old Ford pickup truck, a big dog and a shotgun.

I’ve never seen myself as an activist. I have been involved in government and philanthropy, but have never thought of myself as someone who would go to a protest.

But then, in November the Woolsey Fire exploded through the mountains where I live. My wife, two-year-old son and dog jumped into the car with a few family photos and joined almost 300,000 others in a mass evacuation, a line of cars chased by a…