Grazing

Re "Middle of Nowhere is a Center of Conflict," April 19 One critical issue was neglected in the article: Ongoing livestock grazing degrades the very objects the monuments were designated to protect. Livestock grazing damages the habitat of the desert tortoise and other wildlife, tramples cultural artifacts, harms native plant communities and spreads invasive vegetation. On the Arizona Strip and on Arizona's national monuments, livestock grazing leaves permanent scars on landscapes that are supposed to receive special protection.

In response to your article "Hunters: On the Vanishing Species List?" by Rich Tosches (Part I, May 19), wherein Dale Laschnitz of Colorado's Division of Wildlife is quoted as saying, "The animal rights groups don't see the big picture. They seemed to be more concerned with the individual rights of the animal than they are with the overall well-being of the species." This is referring to the buffalo in Yellowstone Park that were shot to prevent their inevitable starvation because of lack of grazing land.

Re "A Shocking Water Noncrisis," editorial, June 15: So, the California Water Plan aims toward regional management and "wringing every bit of utility from every drop of water"? Why then in the last five months have thousands of gallons per minute of water run through Hansen Dam, where it is allowed to flow into the L.A. River and become immediately polluted and useless as it runs out to the ocean? This isn't farm or grazing land runoff, but pure mountain water from Big and Little Tujunga Canyon streams.

This just in: Dorothy Benally of Beclabito needs a reliable sheepherder. He must be willing to take the flock up into the mountains for at least two months. Call collect . . . . The squaw dance for Frank Woody at Ojo Encino has been postponed . . . . And to anyone who's listening, Elmer Bigben would like the people of Red Mesa to leave messages at the chapter house. Rise and shine.

UFC 158 takes place Saturday night from Montreal, headlined by a UFC welterweight title bout pitting champion Georges St. Pierre and challenger Nick Diaz. The contest, expected to be one of the biggest pay-per-view attractions of the year, has featured a unique buildup and hype. The mercurial Diaz was controversially selected for the title shot despite losing his last bout and failing a post-fight drug test. St. Pierre and UFC president Dana White justified this decision by saying St. Pierre was angry at Diaz and thought the "disrespectful" Diaz "deserves a beatdown.

We live in a contradictory age, when city slickers pay a fortune to become weekend buckaroos herding cattle in the Wyoming outback, yet disdain red meat at the dinner table in favor of some pale bottom-trash fish with a sprig of parsley in its mouth. I'm sorry, Hopalong, but this won't do. If you seek the authentic western experience you had better be prepared to sink your canines into a serious chunk of bovine.

MALUKU ISLANDS, Indonesia - Perched on the edge of a skiff, I felt a trickle of sweat inch down my cheek. A heavy scuba tank pulled at my back as I adjusted my mask, feeling claustrophobic in all this gear and anxious about making this dive. How did I get here? I had come a long way to be sitting on this gunwale under a brilliant sun somewhere in Indonesia's Banda Sea: flights from Los Angeles to Bali and Flores, then motoring on calm seas past volcanic islands and coral atolls, white beaches and palm trees.

Big Sur, the 90 or so miles of rugged Pacific coast that unfurls south of Monterey, is known for pricey, reservations-only restaurants and as a capital of the New Age movement. It's a place, then, for well-fed people to get in touch with their inner selves in a spectacular natural setting. But before the arrival of $120 prix fixe dinners, before the human potential movement was founded at the Esalen Institute, Big Sur was associated with one of America's most austere and, for a while, famous artists.

It's 4:30 a.m. I'm with 100 others, sitting still. I try to focus, but my mind constantly wanders. In or out of the meditation hall, there's silence and isolation. It's maddeningly difficult. I'm not sure I can make it through the rest of the 10 days. Why would any sane person want to? For me, the answer involves some personal history. A generation ago, I spent a year in India. When Indians asked me if I was a spiritual aspirant, my stock answer was: "I'm a spiritual buff- erant.