Fortress Yellowstone
Santarem, Brazil— The taxi judders uphill into a forest brimming with life. Palm fronds droop over the road like huge, oily hands, and green birds flap between trees. And then, abruptly, the forest ends, and we emerge onto a denuded plain where the sun beats down on road and car and red dust.
I am here to see firsthand how the ultra-rich are remapping the Earth’s remaining wild places, deciding what is sacrificed and what is conserved and for whom.
For me, this road into the Brazilian Amazon began a few weeks prior and nearly 5,000 miles away, on a different dirt road through a sprawling Montana ranch.