Here in Arizona's Arrastra Mountain Wilderness, a
spectacular five-mile-long canyon called Peeples is home to a
surprisingly moist world. Three hundred and fifty feet below the
rim a spring emerges, and in the parched heart of the desert, 100
miles northwest of Phoenix, the water that weaves under and around
rocks is a lifeblood for eagles and other
wildlife.
This is a serene and peaceful place,
shaded by sycamore and willow. When the wilderness was created in
1990 from Bureau of Land Management holdings, the agency called
Peeples Canyon one of the rarest and most productive places for
wildlife in Arizona. As a designated wilderness it was protected
forever.
Or was it?
Two
miles down the canyon another spring emerges, and it and 40 acres
are privately owned by Erik and Tina Barnes, whose 1,000-acre ranch
and permitted BLM land stretch out above the canyon
rim.
The couple say their cattle need the water
from the spring, and to store the water in an existing tank, spring
water must be pumped up.
To make everything
work, they say, they need to bulldoze and improve an old road that
snakes its way up the canyon walls. It is this demand that has
created a fight between the Barneses, who are supported by local
BLM officials, and conservationists. Critics say improving an
"abandoned jeep road" by bulldozing the canyon would harm a unique
area that hasn't been visited by a motor vehicle since
1979.
Barnes, who has owned the ranch for eight
years, agrees that Peeples Canyon is a jewel. But he says running
the ranch without developing the spring he owns is a
handicap.
"If you look at the
ranch like a car, it's a Cadillac," says Barnes, who works as a
commercial fisherman in Alaska during the summer. "But what if you
took off the front wheel of the Cadillac and you couldn't replace
it. What's it worth to you then?" The real issue, he adds, is
property rights and "our right to use the water and the right to
manage our own ranch."
For Arizona attorney Joe
Feller, who has appealed the BLM's decision allowing the
road-building to the Interior Department's Board of Land Appeals,
Peeples Canyon is a classic conflict between the public's interest
in wilderness, as defined by Congress, and the rights of a private
inholder that are embedded in the Fifth Amendment to the U.S.
Constitution.
Far from
unique
The fight over Peeples Canyon is far from
unique; nowadays there are thousands of prickly land disputes in
the West that started with a patch of private land in the core of a
national forest, national park, wildlife refuge, wilderness area or
wild and scenic river.
Conflicts arise when the
private landowner, the inholder, wants to do something with his or
her land - whether it's blocking public access to a backcountry
trail or road, building a subdivision, logging, mining, siphoning
water from a stream or some other development - that conflicts with
the management of surrounding public lands. Many of these disputes
are finding their way to
court.
"The proper allocation
of rights to private landowners and federal land conservation
interests has become one of the most contentious and emotional
issues in public land law," say Steven Quarles and Thomas Lundquist
in Land and Water Law Review.
Inholder conflicts
are particularly acute today because:
* Congress
and every president since Ronald Reagan have been routinely raiding
the nation's sole source for buying inholdings, the Land and Water
Conservation Fund, to lower the federal deficit. Buying land is
often the best - or the only - solution to resolving inholder
disputes. But instead of spending about $900 million a year from
the Land and Water Fund to buy and protect valuable lands, Congress
and the Reagan, Bush and Clinton administrations have been taking
at least $550 million per year from the trust fund for deficit
"reduction."
* The scarcity and popularity of
prime recreation property in the West have sent property values -
including those of inholdings - into the stratosphere.
"If we're going to preserve
these lands, we need to do it now before they get too expensive,"
says Bill Shaddox, realty chief for the National Park
Service.
* Real estate developers are
speculating on inholdings to make a fast buck, while inholders
often hold out for a high price for prime wilderness or park
property. Some threaten the worst kind of development to force
slow-moving bureaucrats into action (see story page
10).
"People are trying to
milk these things. We call it environmental extortion," says Sue
Gunn, director of budget and appropriations for The Wilderness
Society in Washington, D.C.
The scale of the
inholdings problem is immense. Peter Landres, a research ecologist
with the USFS Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute in
Missoula, Mont., says, "We don't even know the scale of the problem
at a national level because the inholding data from the National
Wilderness Preservation System are not reported consistently among
the four agencies with wilderness responsibility."
Data from the BLM suggest that of 418 units of
designated wilderness in the 13 Western states, 111, or 27 percent,
have inholdings. Ninety are within Forest Service land, 11 within
Park Service land, and 10 within BLM land.
The
total acres of Western wilderness in all agencies is 41,362,931.
The total acres of inholdings within all those areas is 187,927 -
or 0.5 percent.
Those figures, notes Jeff Jarvis
at the BLM office in Washington, D.C., represent a large problem.
"But the numbers relating to inholdings within all federal land
nationally are of a different size of hopelessness."
Nationally, there are more than 45 million
acres of inholdings (not including BLM lands) in our nation's
parks, forests, desert canyons, wildlife refuges and wild and
scenic river corridors - an area larger than the state of
Washington, the 20th largest state in the union.
There is some progress. Over the last 30 years, the Land and Water
Conservation Fund has purchased more than 5 million acres of
inholdings; in addition, nonprofit organizations such as the
Wilderness Land Trust, The Nature Conservancy and The Trust for
Public Land have been waging aggressive land-acquisition campaigns
across the nation. And in Washington, D.C., a new coalition of 130
local and national groups is urging Congress to spend some $200
million from the Land and Water Conservation Fund for everything
from ballfields to the purchase of inholdings. The coalition is
called Americans for Our Heritage and
Recreation.
"We've been
short-changed for years," Gunn says. "Congress will steal this
money if there's no constituency for it, so we decided that we'd
better build a strong organization." The group came together,
combining their demands, Gunn says, after local parks officials and
environmental groups decided to quit "fighting over the crumbs'
(see story on page 11).
The
West is a patchwork
Inholdings are like
scattered islands in a sea of public lands. Someone walking in a
wilderness area might be shocked to come across an A-frame chalet
cordoned off by a fence smothered with "No Trespassing" signs and a
private airstrip in a nearby meadow. "Who owns this place?" a hiker
or hunter might wonder. "How did it get here?"
The short answer is that the inholding was there first, secured in
the 1800s or early 1900s - long before the area around it was
designated wilderness by Congress.
Inholdings
today are remnants of the West's rush to mine ore and settle land.
Nineteenth-century mining and homestead laws encouraged Americans
to move West and settle the public domain.
In
national parks, patented mining claims and homestead withdrawals
are the majority of inholdings.
In some areas
of the West, alternating one-mile-square sections of land were
deeded to transcontinental railroads such as Burlington Northern
and Union Pacific, creating checkerboard ownership patterns.
National forests, which contain the lion's share of inholdings
across the country, were also heavily mined and homesteaded.
On BLM lands, federal law spurred the creation
of small base ranches, usually located by water and productive
flood-plain land, tied to grazing privileges on surrounding federal
lands. That led to thousands of isolated, scattered inholdings
within large BLM tracts.
It's impossible to know
how many inholdings were secured through the Homestead Act because
no one has kept track. But Department of Interior records show that
about 3.2 million acres of federal land have been patented by
miners nationwide since 1872, most of it purchased for $2.50 to $5
per acre. Once it is patented, this land may be turned into a
vacation spot with a creek or river flowing outside the cabin
door.
Policy scholars say many inholdings were
acquired for next to nothing. "A lot of that stuff was acquired
illegally, but no one ever did anything about it," notes John
Freemuth, a public-lands expert and political scientist at Boise
State University.
Pro-settlement policies have
left an unfortunate legacy for federal land managers, adds George
C. Coggins, professor of law at the University of Kansas. "The land
ownership maps of the Western states resemble general cartographic
chaos," Coggins said in a speech in Laramie, Wyo. And, he notes,
national forest and BLM district boundaries were "created by
mapmakers in Washington, D.C., with no regard for watersheds,
ecosystems or other defensible dividing lines."
Only "a lawyer badly in need of business' would consciously design
the patchwork land-ownership system that exists today, he
says.
In the late 1960s, with the dawning of the
environmental movement, federal policies began to swing toward
conservation, with landmark laws such as the Wilderness Act, the
creation of the Land and Water Conservation Fund and the Wild and
Scenic Rivers Act.
As Congress created national
parks, monuments, wilderness areas, wildlife refuges and wild and
scenic rivers, it authorized federal managers to begin the tedious
process of identifying private lands for acquisition. Officials in
Washington, D.C., then put together priority lists for public
purchase.
Owners have a
hammer
Today, it doesn't matter how the land was
acquired or how much the buyers paid for it, Freemuth says.
Inholders have legitimate property rights like anyone else. "These
guys know they've got a hammer; they've got a private right," he
said.
Indeed, to own an isolated piece of
private land amid the grandeur of a national forest constitutes the
dream of many Americans, even if it does mean having bureaucrats
for neighbors. "Once you've got your cabin in the woods, why would
you want to give it up?" Freemuth asks. "This is the future of the
West - people want-ing to develop their little ranchettes
everywhere."
From an inholder's perspective,
living in a place that's surrounded by federal land can cause
grief. But access issues, such as the Barneses' proposed road and
water development in Peeples Canyon, seem the chief points of
contention.
Under the Clinton administration,
federal-lands officials have been more strident, insists Chuck
Cushman, director of the National Inholders Association in Battle
Ground, Wash.
Cushman has urged inholder clients
throughout the nation to fight federal-land managers over any
proposal to limit access or restrict use. Often, his clients come
out on the winning side, sometimes assisted by "wise use" law firms
such as the Mountain States Legal Foundation.
While environmental groups lament the diversion of Land and Water
Fund monies to voodoo-deficit reduction, Cushman delights in it.
"The way you cut off a bureaucrat's head is, you take away his
money," he says.
Making deals where they
can
"Clearly, there will never
be enough funds to buy all of these inholdings (inside national
forest boundaries)," says Jon Mulford, director of the Wilderness
Land Trust based in Carbondale, Colo. "So we focus on wilderness."
So far, the trust has brought 6,189 acres into public ownership,
most of them in Colorado and Arizona, in 110 land deals. A bigger
gun in this effort, the Trust for Public Land, reports it has
purchased 970,000 acres of private land at a cost of $1.3 billion.
Property transactions are always difficult to
negotiate, especially if a landowner doesn't wish to sell. In those
cases, the purchase of a scenic easement may be a preferable
approach for the landowner and for the government and counties
which count on property tax income from private
land.
Cushman's group prefers the easement
approach, both to stretch limited federal budgets farther and to
keep property on the tax rolls. "You don't want to destroy the tax
base of a community," he says. "A lot of these counties don't have
much of a tax base to begin with because they're dominated by
federal lands."
Meanwhile, in
Arizona
The BLM has tried to work out a land
exchange with Erik and Tina Barnes to end the conflict over the
family's inholding in the 129,800-acre Arrastra Mountain
Wilderness. The proposed BLM exchange offered lands worth $200,000
for the 40-acre parcel.
Barnes says the offer
was too small.
"We're willing
to sell it, but we're not willing to give it away, and we're not
going to be driven off," he says.
As for Feller,
he's furious that the BLM approved the Barnes application to
improve the road and redevelop the spring after the landowner
rejected what he sees as a "generous' offer.
"To my horror, the BLM is
bending over backwards to help this guy, to give away the store,"
Feller says. "In one of the most ecologically significant areas of
Arizona, we'll have a road and vehicular traffic and it'll be
devastating."
BLM officials counter that the
Wilderness Act specifically provides for access to private land.
"Even if it is completely surrounded by wilderness," says Ken
Mahoney, a wilderness specialist for the BLM State Office in
Phoenix, Ariz., "this is a private inholding."
Based on a series of recent rulings in the Ninth Circuit Court of
Appeals, the BLM may be correct. Justices there have consistently
ruled that broad private-access language in the Alaska Lands Act
should be applied to all Western lands in the United States.
Boise, Idaho, lawyer Laird Lucas likens the
case-precedent that's been created to "a lurking time bomb on every
access question."
But in Peeples Canyon, Feller
counters, access does not necessarily mean a steep dirt track
improved enough for cars. Horses can be used instead of four
wheels, he says, and respect for wild places should sometimes trump
our desire to develop.
The BLM itself called
Peeples Canyon "a unique desert oasis," Feller says, so while it
may take three years or more for his appeal to be heard, "I expect
to win," he says with a grin.
Steve Stuebner writes from Boise,
Idaho.
You can contact ...
*
Joe Feller, 602/965-3964, at the Arizona State University Law
School;
* BLM, Arizona state office, Ken
Mahoney, 602/417-9238;
* Chuck Cushman, National
Inholders Association, Battle Ground, Wash., 360/687-3087;
* Wilderness Land Trust, 970/963-9688;
* The Trust for Public Lands, San Francisco,
Susan Ives, public affairs officer,
415/495-4014;
* Jane Danowitz, director,
Americans for Our Heritage and Recreation,
202/429-2663.






