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The Forest Service sets off into uncharted territory by Todd Wilkinson
TARGHEE NATIONAL FOREST, Idaho - Jim Gerber is staring me in the eye
and he doesn't look happy. He's tall and lean, wears his gray hair clipped
in a buzz cut, and he's angry. The U.S. Forest Service has dug itself into
a hole, he says, and he's hell-bent on digging the agency out, and putting
it back on the road to multiple-use land management. "Environmentalists turned me into what I am," says the 30-year Forest
Service veteran and retired timber sale planner. "You can't trust them,
and the moment you do they force the federal government into doing
something idiotic like this." "This' is a deep crater along a popular hiking trail leading to the
Henry's Fork of the Snake River, and Gerber is standing in the bottom of
it. The Forest Service has used backhoes to dig dozens of these "tank
traps' to block forest roads across the Targhee, near the western boundary
of Yellowstone National Park. Instead of tanks, the barriers are built to stop another kind of army -
thousands of off-road-vehicle (ORV) riders who use the Targhee's maze of
logging roads as a playground. The Forest Service says tank traps are
often the only way to keep ORVs off closed roads. Drivers ignore signs,
and when the agency puts up gates, they cut the locks or create trails
around them. Although Gerber isn't an ORV enthusiast, he's insulted by the traps.
"These are like big billboards erected by the government that proclaim,
"We don't want the public on our national forests - stay out!" What has
the world come to when we have to build tank traps to keep Americans out
of public lands they own?" Welcome to the post-timber era and to the latest struggle over who
controls the public lands. Roads are an issue on every national forest in
the West, and each forest has its peculiar twists. But the Targhee and its
tank traps are as good a place to start as any. The situation here is a heritage dating back to the 1960s, when the
Forest Service built thousands of miles of roads to give timber companies
access to beetle-chewed lodgepole pine trees. From the air, those roads
wind and spiral through the clear-cut forest like elevation lines on a
topographic map. They were an efficient help to loggers, who harvested a
lot of trees here. But today the roads and their traffic are also an
efficient way to decimate the grizzly population, and over the past decade
the bears' threatened species status has forced the Forest Service to try
to close many of them. The grizzlies and concerns over elk habitat pushed the Targhee into the
road-closing business ahead of other forests, but now there is pressure on
most forests to do the same. There is also increasing pressure on the
agency to stop building new roads. Today, roads, rather than mines or dams
or grazed land, are at the center of the West's struggle to figure out the
future course of the region's public lands. This road fight is the most vivid example of how the Forest Service,
which once proudly called itself the greatest road-building agency in the
world, is changing. Forest Service Chief Mike Dombeck fired the first
major shot last year, when he declared an 18-month moratorium on new
logging roads on 33 million acres of unroaded forest land (HCN,
4/27/98). The moratorium, which ends in October of 2000, was to give
the Forest Service a "time out" to study the impacts on wildlife, water
quality, and scenery of its 373,000 miles of roads. Dombeck was attacked by many Western senators and representatives, but
a month ago he picked up a valuable supporter when President Bill Clinton
told the Forest Service to spend a year designing a plan to protect 40 to
60 million acres of unroaded forests (HCN,
10/25/99).
Activists cheered Clinton's directive, especially in
Idaho, Montana and the Pacific Northwest, where the lion's share of
roadless forests in the West remains. They have pushed without success for
nearly two decades to pass legislation that would permanently protect many
of these lands as wilderness. They see the directive as a pretty good
substitute for legislated protection. But the two initiatives go beyond imposing quasi-wilderness status on
some roadless land. Dombeck and Clinton have thrust the Forest Service
deeper into something the agency has thus far avoided: clearly defining
its new role in the West. An enormous amount is at stake. There is the potential to return tens
of millions of acres of roaded and logged acres to roadless status over
time. And there is also the potential to extend administrative protection
to roadless lands that are currently subject to road-building and logging.
If they were only up against the timber industry, Dombeck and Clinton
would have it all their own way. The cut on public land has dropped by
two-thirds in the last decade, and the industry is in decline and out of
favor with the public. But now that we have left the industrial age, motorized recreation has
come on the scene to oppose the new roads policy. Longtime allies of the
timber industry recognize the shift from extraction to recreation. "The
president has very skillfully tried to focus the American people and the
press's attention on logging," says Idaho Sen. Larry Craig. "But about 80
percent of this is (about) access: snowmobiling, camper access, off-road
vehicle access." The roads battle promises to be as controversial and bitter as the
timber wars. It pits the environmental community and its allies in the
White House against the industry-backed ORV lobby and its friends in
Congress. In the West, on the ground, the ORVers seem to have the
advantage. They're mechanized, they're passionate and they're determined
to hold all the ground they have and to gain new ground. Meanwhile,
hikers, horseback riders and wildlife enthusiasts do not yet seem fully
aware of what is at stake, and how crucial the next year will be.
Explosion on the Targhee"Nothing is worse for sensitive wildlife than a road," writes forest ecologist Reed Noss, a board member of the Society for Conservation Biology and an advisor to the Wildlands Project. Two decades of study, he says, have shown that roads fragment and destroy wildlife habitat. They are death traps for rare, threatened and endangered species ranging from snakes to grizzly bears. Sediment washed off roads by rain and runoff can clog streams, destroy fisheries and foul municipal water supplies.Roads offer easy entry for poachers and weeds. Unmaintained, they are
human safety hazards, and heavily used, they shatter the silence of wild
places. Says Noss, "The net effect of all roads is nothing short of
catastrophic." Noss is not alone in his beliefs. In 1997, 169 forest scientists asked
President Clinton to protect all roadless areas greater than 1,000 acres.
Two hundred and thirty scientists sent a similar letter to Vice President
Al Gore the following year. Events on the ground amplified the scientists' resistance to roads.
Take the Clearwater National Forest in north-central Idaho, where
scientists had warned for years that building roads across its steep
batholithic slopes was a recipe for disaster. Sure enough, during the wet
winters of 1995-1996, hundreds of landslides, many the result of logging
roads, flushed tons of soil into streams, where native fish populations
were already suffering (HCN,
1/22/96). The scientific evidence and a road-maintenance backlog that has
climbed into the billions of dollars convinced Dombeck to declare his
road-building moratorium. The logic that drove Dombeck to the moratorium, and the forces that are
driving some forests to obliterate or at least close roads, are nowhere
clearer than on the Targhee, where a 30-year, 1 billion-board-feet
clear-cutting program, aimed at combating pine bark beetles, created
thousands of miles of roads. That program peaked in 1978, when timber
companies pulled 107.4 million board-feet of timber off the Targhee. The
harvest then hovered between 46 million and 84 million board-feet each
year up to 1990, when concerns over grizzly bear habitat, elk migration,
watersheds and raptors such as goshawks and owls brought it tumbling
down. By 1992, the cut had dropped to 21 million board-feet, mirroring what
was happening throughout the national forest system. By the late 1990s, it
dropped below 10 million. The loggers left the woods, and right behind
them came the Forest Service, closing roads. Between 1992 and 1993, under
pressure from environmentalists and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service,
the agency closed 1,245 miles of roads on the Targhee. For environmentalists, that was not enough. The Greater Yellowstone
Coalition and Earthjustice, then the Sierra Club Legal Defense Fund, sued
in 1993. The road network on the forest was so dense, they claimed, that
grizzlies were driven out of their habitat or killed by poachers using the
roads. Earthjustice's senior attorney Doug Honnold says, "Closing roads is
the simplest way to give these animals habitat security." In a 1994 out-of-court settlement, the Forest Service agreed to study
its road density, consider closing roads and ban summer cross-country
driving in more than 300,000 acres of bear habitat. In 1997, in its
revised forest plan, the Targhee banned clear-cutting and all motorized
travel in 59,000 acres of grizzly bear "secure" areas. It also announced
it would close more than 400 miles of logging roads and ORV trails. Targhee Forest Supervisor Jerry Reese ordered his staff to post signs
on closed roads, but quickly discovered that ORV drivers ignored them,
particularly during hunting season. Fences, gates and beefed-up law
enforcement also failed to stop ORV recreationists. "We had locks cut, posts sawed off, cutting torches, you name it," says
Alan Silker, with the Targhee's recreation staff. Finally, Reese called in backhoes to dig the "earthen berms' or tank
traps that so angered Jim Gerber. ORVers were also livid. The Blue Ribbon
Coalition, a Pocatello, Idaho-based alliance of off-road enthusiasts,
roundly criticized Reese. Idaho Republican Rep. Helen Chenoweth (now
Chenoweth-Hage) attended a Blue Ribbon rally, and later excoriated
Assistant Agriculture Secretary Jim Lyons during a House subcommittee
meeting. "We must nip it in the bud," she said, and vowed to keep tank traps
from spreading to other forests. The commissioners of Teton and Fremont counties imposed emergency
weight restrictions on county roads to prevent the Forest Service from
moving heavy equipment to other forest roads. Then, in October 1998, a Forest Service ranger found an unlit gasoline
bomb on the doorstep of her office. A note attached to the bomb threatened
the Forest Service and conservationists. Jim Gerber says he understands the anger that led to the threat. On a
single road, he has counted up to 24 tank traps. All told, the Targhee has
spent $300,000 on tank traps, he says. "The Greater Yellowstone Coalition
and Earthjustice should be happy with this. I wish these environmentalists
would take their elitist ideals elsewhere." Finally, last October, faced with a lawsuit from the
Blue Ribbon Coalition and Gerber's Citizens for a User Friendly Forest,
the Targhee called off the bulldozers. According to Silker, the forest has closed 85 percent of the roads up
for closure, and the remaining 15 percent await a ruling on the lawsuit.
But, he adds, more than half of the roads that are "closed" are still in
use. "Earthen berms aren't stopping ORVs," he says. "They're being driven
around right now."
Growing cloutThe Targhee shows how hard it is to close roads in the face of organized local opposition, which may be why the Forest Service has called for so few road closures around the West.The timber industry and ORV riders have also organized at a national
level. Last summer, a collection of groups, including People for the USA
and timber industry associations, sued the Forest Service over Dombeck's
road-building moratorium. They argued that it violated national
environmental laws by cutting the public out of the decision-making
process. Also party to the lawsuit were ORV groups like the Blue Ribbon
Coalition, which are burgeoning all over the West. Only 20 years ago, the
Forest Service estimated that off-road vehicles accounted for 5.3 million
visitor days nationally. Eight years later, the number had grown to 80
million, and by 2020, the agency expects 118 million ORV visitor days.
Some officials believe that figure may already have been reached. The principal organizer for ORV users is Clark Collins' Blue Ribbon
Coalition, which boasts 500,000 members (a figure Collins gets by adding
the membership numbers of his affiliate organizations) and receives
significant funding from ORV manufacturers and timber companies (HCN,
12/9/96). The coalition has strong political backing in the West.
Among the group's "best friends' listed in a recent newsletter are Idaho
Sen. Larry Craig, Wyoming Sen. Craig Thomas and Rep. Jim Hansen of Utah.
Also on the list is Helen Chenoweth-Hage, who recently introduced the
Forest Roads-Community Right-to-Know Act, H.R. 1523, which would require
the Forest Service and BLM to consult with local elected officials before
closing any roads. Collins' position is that the Forest Service is being manipulated by
"anti-off-highway vehicle (OHV) hate campaigns' orchestrated by
environmentalists. He says local ORV clubs maintain trails and roads the
Forest Service and the BLM cannot afford to maintain. Horseback riders and
hikers benefit from this work, and then try to kick ORV riders out, he
says. "When the land managers cater to the anti-OHV elitists, it only
encourages (ORV riders) to be more unreasonable," says Collins. Environmentalists contend that ORV riders make up a tiny percentage of
public-lands users, yet destroy the experience for everyone else. They are
sounding the alarm that ORVers are pushing into trails formerly used only
by hikers, horseback riders and motorcyclists, turning them into
two-tracks and roads. Montana conservationist and ORV policy-expert Frank Culver says they
started that by launching "a sneak attack that blew a hole in Forest
Service regulations just wide enough to allow ORVs to go where they had
never gone before." The "sneak attack" was the cancellation of something called the
"40-inch rule." The rule had kept ORVs and four-wheelers off thousands of
miles of agency trails by allowing only vehicles that are less than 40
inches wide. The Forest Service says it widely advertised its
intention to cancel the rule in 1991, but just five comments were
submitted to the federal record nationwide. "Nobody knew about it, and if the conservation community had, you know
there would have been a major uproar," Culver says. "Abolishing the
40-inch rule was arguably one of the most significant natural resource
decisions the Forest Service has ever made, and the agency didn't bother
to even write an environmental assessment." The rule change had not gone unnoticed within the agency. "Allowing wider vehicles to use trails may cause trails to become
roads," warned Midwest Deputy Regional Forester Floyd Marita. "When is a
trail no longer a trail?" "Instead of building roads, the agency has its engineers over-designing
hiking trails and making them 50 to 60 inches wide to accommodate ORVs and
snowmobiles," says John Gatchell with the Montana Wilderness Association.
"What they have done is create mini-roads." Gatchell claims the Forest Service has also opened to ORVs thousands of
miles of horse and foot trails on the Helena, Deerlodge and Gallatin
national forests simply by altering forest visitor maps. According to Gatchell, "The public was never notified." He claims that ORVers have built dozens of new trails without
authorization. In the Big Belt Mountains just outside Helena, Gatchell
says off-road vehicle riders have driven right up the central ridge,
scarring the slopes with eroding tracks. "The road has gutted the heart of
the area," he says, "and it won't rehabilitate on its own, because there
is so little soil to begin with." Roz McClellan, a Colorado activist who started the Rocky Mountain
Recreation Initiative, says motorized trails have proliferated on most
Forest Service lands in Colorado, including many roadless wilderness study
areas. On the Rio Grande National Forest in southern Colorado, the Forest
Service decided not to recommend wilderness protection for seven areas it
had identified as candidates in the 1970s, McClellan says. New or expanded
motorized trails had changed their character. "Our backcountry is taking on an urban feeling with traffic, congestion
and noise. The feeling of wildness is disappearing."
Money makes a differenceThe Forest Service has an incentive to listen to ORV fans: tax dollars. In 1991, then U.S. Sen. Steve Symms, an Idaho Republican and ally of the Blue Ribbon Coalition, introduced the National Recreational Trails Fund Act, commonly known as the "Symms Act." To fund trail building and maintenance, it gave the states a portion of a national gas tax levied at the pump on all vehicles.Theoretically, 30 percent of the funds are dedicated to create and
maintain motorized trails, 30 percent for nonmotorized trails, and 40
percent for "multiple use." In practice, agencies have spent the bulk of
multiple-use funding on projects that benefit ORV users. The Symms Act also allowed the Forest Service to circumvent
environmental laws by empowering forest managers to widen trails without
public review. The act lapsed in 1997, but last summer, congressional Republicans
resurrected it with a bill that will spend $270 million over five years
building new ORV trails and improving old ones on national forests and BLM
lands. Chris Wood, an aide to Forest Service Chief Dombeck, says the
environmental community could learn a lesson or two from the Blue Ribbon
Coalition. At a time when the agency is shifting away from timber revenue,
leaving forests scrambling for money, trail money is a way for forest
supervisors to make trail and road maintenance high priority. "Off-road vehicle users have been strategic in ways
that environmentalists have not been," says Wood. "They are organized,
they speak with one voice, they work their political connections, they
volunteer to help the agency maintain trails, and they are effective.
Those are attractive attributes if you're trying to capture the attention
and sympathies of Forest Service field managers." Their effectiveness can be seen in Utah. Earlier this year on the Dixie
National Forest, District Ranger Marv Turner widened a horseback and
hiking trail with a small bulldozer called a "Trail Cat" at the behest of
local all-terrain vehicle users. This happened even though agency maps
identified it as a foot and horse trail. After complaints from environmentalists and several Dixie forest
employees, Forest Supervisor Mary Wagner ordered Turner to restore the
trail to its previous condition. "We need to be up front and not do things
behind closed doors," she told the Salt Lake Tribune. "There are 3,500 miles of roads and trails already open to ATVs on the
Dixie," said Liz Thomas of the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance. "They
don't need to be making any more." In Colorado, the agency recently released its plan for the White River
National Forest, the most heavily recreated forest in the country, and
called for closing some roads, many user-created ORV trails and some
mountain-biking routes. That has angered many recreation groups and
members of the Colorado congressional delegation, who are seeking to delay
the plan's implementation (HCN,
10/11/99). "Public land managers are caught between a rock and a hard place. If
they try to enforce the laws, the ORV groups will make trouble for them.
And if they keep quiet, they deal with their own conscience," says Howard
Wilshire, board chairman of Public Employees for Environmental
Responsibility, a whistleblower protection group. As a senior geologist
with the U.S. Geological Survey, Wilshire became a target of ORV lobbyists
in the 1970s, when he documented the damage caused by ORVs to the Mojave
Desert. His findings ended the legendary Barstow to Las Vegas motorcycle
race. "Today, the only sensible thing for the agencies to do is limit access.
They can't go on providing access forever. They couldn't do it for loggers
and they can't do it for off-road vehicles," he adds. "And the agencies,
from the Washington level on down, absolutely need to provide support and
empathy for their field personnel who are confronting the brunt of the
pressure. Their lives can be hell. We, the public, need to support them."
Saving what's left Few forests, however, are addressing the roads issue directly. Many
environmentalists say they feel they're racing against time to limit
vehicle use, especially with the 40 to 60 million acres of unroaded forest
land. "Unless something is done to proactively protect these places, they are
going to be gone," says Ken Rait of the Oregon Natural Resources Council.
"This is an issue that I believe will catalyze the public on lands issues
because it's open-space protection at no cost." Rait has been heading ONRC's national Heritage Forests Campaign, an
aggressive effort to protect roadless areas. Over the past year, he has
met with Forest Service and Clinton administration officials, carried out
a letter-writing campaign and convinced editorial writers to push for
protection. Rait even followed President Clinton on his Martha's Vineyard
vacation this summer, with radio spots and newspaper ads asking Clinton to
protect roadless areas before he leaves office. Since 1998, the Clinton administration has received
more than 300,000 comments supporting a strong policy to protect all
remaining roadless areas in the national forest system. In Congress, 170 members of the House, both Democrats and Republicans,
sent a letter to the president asking for a strong roadless policy. And in
1998, the House passed by voice vote a bill drafted by U.S. Rep. George
Miller, D-Calif., to end subsidized logging on public lands and protect
the bulk of remaining roadless lands. The campaign to protect roadless areas continued this fall. President
Clinton asked the Forest Service to complete an environmental impact
statement by the end of 2000, and come up with a permanent rule on how the
agency will deal with roadless areas. It was a clear message to the Forest
Service that its road-building moratorium was right on track. "The most exciting thing about the announcement is that we have a
president who is excited about what the agency is doing," said Dombeck's
assistant, Chris Wood. "We're doing this as a team. It's been a long time
since that's happened." But even before Clinton had made his announcement, a group of 35
Republicans, led by Idaho Sen. Larry Craig, roasted the president for
creating de facto wilderness areas without public input. "While the Forest Service might like this step backward to feudal
European policies, it is completely unacceptable to us and those who use
our public lands," Craig said. "A lot of regular people who use the public lands are going to be hurt
by this," says Don Amador, Western regional representative of the Blue
Ribbon Coalition. "Access for public lands is in grave danger." Dombeck's 18-month moratorium expires in October of next year, just
weeks before the presidential and congressional elections. Rait predicts
roadless area protection will emerge as a campaign issue. His evidence
includes a survey by Republican pollster Frank Luntz, which concludes that
wildlands protection commands enough support with Americans that it could
influence local and national elections. Because the roads issue resonates at so many different levels with both
urban and rural voters, Rait's organization intends to crank up the
pressure. But he and his allies are worried about the effect on the
administration of America's continuing attachment to roads and cars. They
fear that cracks are already appearing in the adminstration's resolve. "Driving for pleasure is a great American pastime," Dombeck said in an
October speech in Madison, Wis. "More and more Americans are using forest
roads to enjoy the public lands. And this is as it should be." But he later added, "In no way should we condone the de facto
development of unplanned or unauthorized trails and roads. This places a
special burden on the Forest Service to ensure that roads and motorized
trails are adequately signed, mapped and marked for public use and
enjoyment." Dombeck called for a new coalition of conservationists, ORVers and
governments to "work together, so that those who enjoy our forests using
off-highway vehicles may recreate and those that prefer the solitude and
silence may enjoy high quality experiences, as well." At the moment, anyway, the coalition Dombeck is hoping for seems out of
reach. But the emergence of a public coalition may be less important than
the emergence of a new Forest Service - one capable of again managing the
national forest land that has slipped out of its hands. n
Todd Wilkinson writes from Bozeman, Mont. HCN Senior Editor Paul Larmer
and Associate Editor Greg Hanscom contributed to this story. ##!!## |
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