Nevada has most of its land in the public domain. In fact, more than 85% of the state is under federal ownership. This places a large burden on federal agencies to serve as good stewards of Nevada’s landscapes. Agencies are obligated to sensibly manage the activities that occur on the landscape, including the public’s use of the lands and the management activities that the agencies themselves undertake.

Last month, I had the privilege of getting in a plane with a few other folks to fly over public lands in the Pine Grove Hills outside of Yerington, NV. I was amazed by the beauty that one can witness from an aircraft flying at relatively low altitudes. You see things from this perspective that look entirely different from the ground, and the beauty of the Wovoka area (also known as Bald Mountain) was truly stunning.

Unfortunately, the above-ground perspective also highlights the errors in management decisions that have, and continue, to occur in the Pine Grove Hills. First, we flew around a controlled burn that the US Forest Service performed this late spring along the south face of Bald Mountain. According to the Forest Service’s Memo of Decision, this was a fire intended to:

…maintain pinyon/juniper woodlands at the Fire Regime Condition Class 1 level.  The majority of the pinyon/juniper woodlands within the Bald Mountain area have been classified as being in Fire Regime IV and within Fire Regime Condition Class II or III.  This classification is based on the Interagency Fire Regime Condition Class system that describes the vegetations degree of departure of from the historical natural fire regime.

Their overall goal was to reduce the potential threat for large scale wildfires. The Forest Service was hoping to create a mosaic of openings across an area up to 3,200 acres.

Burn area from spring prescribed fire at Bald Mountain

As you can see from the picture, the fire does not appear to have created a mosaic of openings. In fact, it appears that the fire was ignited at the base of very steep hillsde, a decision that could only result in rapid and intense progression of fire up the slope. This is not the way to conduct a controlled burn with the stated objective of creating patchy woodland conditions on the landscape.

You can also see that the fire climbed above the rim and burned through a large area of low sage. This area is classified as nesting habitat for sage grouse, a species of conservation concern in the area. A fire in spring was ill-timed given the possibility that sage grouse could be nesting in the area and that the fire had the potential to burn in these areas. This was an error that may have negatively impacted local populations of a rare bird species, and it resulted in a fire that will likely promote the invasion of the formerly pinyon-juniper forest by cheat grass.

As we flew further to the north, we discovered a landscape that suffers from an entirely different management problem. Much of the Pine Grove Hills were designated as roadless areas by the Forest Service about a decade ago. Unfortunately, the Forest Service has been understaffed, and possibly under-motivated, so keeping these areas in pristine condition and free from off-highway vehicular activities has proven, seemingly, impossible.

This exemplifies the impacts from OHV use in the Pine Grove Hills

You can see that there is wanton disregard for the sensitivity of soils, plants, animals, and the landscape as a whole in the trails and routes that have been carved into the Pine Grove Hills. It is disappointing to see an area that met the qualifications for roadless designation so recently having been transformed into a riddled landscape of trails by a reckless subset of off-highway vehicle users. It is a disservice to responsible OHV recreationists that such a footprint has been left on the land by those that appear to have no interest in keeping Nevada’s beautiful and remote places intact. Clearly these are people with no land ethic, and they will continue to abuse our public lands in ways that create resource damage that may never recover. If ever a land management agency needed to step in and take action, this is the time to take action.

I’m saddened by both of these examples of apparent management mistakes or oversights on our federal lands. I can appreciate the challenges that the Forest Service faces in an age of emaciated budgets, low morale, and understaffed offices. Regardless, these are serious problems that have resulted from management decisions that will require decades and longer to restore. Unfortunately, these types of problems do not showcase our federal lands management agencies as being good stewards of Nevada’s landscapes… Something that I would hope they will work to change.

A new publication arrived at the Nevada Wilderness Project’s Reno office the other day. It’s called The Leopold Outlook, a redesigned “newsletter” published by the Aldo Leopold Foundation, which is based in Wisconsin — Leopold’s home and inspiration for his most notable book, A Sand County Almanac.
Their new publication looks like a magazine. It contains nice photos and fairly long articles that explore Leopold’s land ethic and conservation philosophy. People continue to be inspired by Leopold’s work, as well as by what many consider his greatest asset: an ability to allow his thinking and philosophy to evolve. He remained an eager student of the natural world and a critical thinker his entire life.
In his introduction to this new publication, the editor of writes, “What is the Aldo Leopold Foundation doing going to a longer print piece during this irreversible transition to the digital age? Haven’t they heard of websites, list serves, blogs, e-publishing?”
They have, but decided that combining digital communications with traditional print will let them deepen the content, maintain a frequency of communication and build a more substantial relationship with their membership.  And he writes, “…the types of issues we are facing today require more intense concentration, prolonged dialogue, and greater critical thought, not less.”
This last statement is right on the money, but what about the other stuff?  Is there really a need for environmental organizations to produce and mail a paper newsletter (or magazine, in their case) in addition to all the other digital forms of communications at our disposal?
Newsletters have been on minds here at NWP. We’ve produced them pretty regularly for a number of years and are currently working on articles for the next one.  We’re also thinking about new formats, designs and what purpose (maybe there isn’t one?) they will serve in the future.  We’d love to have your opinion.

Wilderness and Wilderness Study Areas are patches of land that have special federal protection. This protection is the strongest possible and guarantees that the most beautiful and wild places remain that way forever.

The great thing about these wilderness areas is that they serve many uses, and that wilderness considers all kinds of human values as being valuable to the wilderness experience.

Icthyosaur drawing

As a conservationist and a scientist, I have many interests when it comes to protecting and conserving the Nevada landscape. These range from making sure wild places are there for future generations to protecting areas that have value for scientific endeavors. These scientific endeavors can be very broad, ranging from opportunities for researchers to examine wildlife and plant populations in areas free of the direct effects of human actions to serving as places that store valuable information, like the geologic and fossil records, to be catalogued and explained.

Recently, the Nevada Wilderness Project was asked to provide comments on a request for a scientific research permit in one of Nevada’s Wilderness Study Areas. It turns out that a paleontologist had recorded an ichthyosaur (a fish-like reptile that went extinct about 20 million years ago; also see this) in the Augusta Mountains WSA some years ago. A research team requested a permit to go in and do a complete excavation of the fossil. They recognized the need to respect the minimum tool ethic and chose to use hand tools to complete the job. They also asked for permission to have a helicopter come in, lower a carrier, and haul the discovery off-site without landing in the area, or to bring in horses if the helicopter option could not gain approval.

This was one of those instances where wilderness value was exemplified beyond the scenic, visual, and recreational opportunities that people generally associate with wilderness areas. Scientific discovery is exciting, and it is great to know that areas being afforded wilderness protection in Nevada are helping to inform man’s knowledge of the history of the planet and the region.

A recent news story by CBS Channel 8’s news show, Las Vegas Now, sheds light on the rich cultural resources found in southern Nevada and, sadly, the vandalism and damage being done to them. The video clip is posted below. When watching it, you can’t help but think about the Gold Butte area and the some 2,000 cultural sites – such as thousand-year-old petroglyphs, agave roasting pits, and 19th century ranches that archaeologists estimate the region holds. Similar damage is being done to many of Gold Butte’s irreplaceable cultural sites and to the land.

It’s good to see some mainstream TV news coverage of the issue. Wilderness advocates are working hard to get better protections in place for Gold Butte, and if you are interested in volunteering to help make this happen, contact the Nevada Wilderness Project. You can also read the most recent news coverage of Gold Butte in the Las Vegas Review-Journal.

]]> http://weethump.wordpress.com/2008/07/16/cbs-news-ancient-sites-being-destroyed-by-vandals/feed/ http://weethump.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/summer-backpack-in-the-hidden-forest-of-the-desert-refuge/ http://weethump.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/summer-backpack-in-the-hidden-forest-of-the-desert-refuge/#comments Tue, 01 Jul 2008 17:42:05 +0000 nickdobric http://weethump.wordpress.com/?p=109

Written by Bill Huggins, posted by Nick

Nick Dobric and I drive into the Desert National Wildlife Refuge on one of the first hot days of the year here in southern Nevada. It’s near noon and the temperature is creeping into the 100s. A dry wind blows and keeps the sky clear, not a cloud to be seen except maybe the dust-tail we create on our twenty-mile drive over rugged dirt roads. The wind makes quick work dispersing it – the reality of southern Nevada, dust and wind.

The Hidden Forest turnout appears, a two-track cut off to the right. Nick makes the turn and we bounce our way for four miles until the road ends. We park on top of a promontory looking into a deep, wide wash that spills fourteen miles from the peak we’ve come to climb, Hayford, the Refuge’s highest point, near 10,000 feet. We make quick work switching out of sandals into boots, giving my Australian shepherd Trix a sip of water, applying sunscreen. Then we shoulder our packs and walk down the incline into the wash.

The arroyo tightens as we walk, collapsing into itself over two miles as its course narrows. We’re in the desert zone still, cactus and dry, thin bushes all around us. I remind myself for the hundredth time that I really need to learn more about the plants. I spend enough time out here, enough to reinforce the names on a weekly basis, at least. We make good time, break for water in a cleft whose rocky points nearly meet, sign of a zone change. Brush becomes thicker, the plants packed more tightly together, less cactus and more greenery. Cliffrose is abundant, bright yellow flowers open to the sun. Trix has never seen them before and stops near each one, taking a noseful.

Halfway up we’re in the Hidden Forest. Signs of people are everywhere: logs pulled out to sit on, firepits, rock arrangements. It’s a cool place to be, escaping the heat, and we rest for a few moments to take more water. The breeze moves through the shade, promise of cooler things to come.

We reach the cabin more quickly than we’ve expected. It’s a sudden shock to see something manmade after ten miles of walking through relative wilderness. Its appearance comes suddenly, like an unexpected glimpse of an animal – almost furtive, it shifts in and out of trees until we walk into its clearing and it has nowhere else to hide. To the left is an old corral, weather-beaten and worn but still of use – some people still ride horses up here. We drop our packs on a nearby picnic table and take the water filter to the nearby spring to recharge our water, passing a guzzler along the way, reminder of the intrusion of the human into this ocean of wilderness, our island for a night and a day.

The cabin is surrounded by odd artifacts: a toilet seat on a wooden box, firepit, and a bathtub on its side up against a tree. Rusted detritus is everywhere, maybe remnants of an odd mining attempt or two decades ago.

The wind picks up before sunset so we cook in the relative shelter of the cabin. It’s full of emergency supplies, in case one might get caught here in a storm. I’ve heard stories over the years of people shoring up in here when a squall blew through in winter, dumping snow. Twilight is still clear for us, a hopeful sign of good weather for our attempt on the peak the next day.

We start a fire and sit around its warmth as we eat, talking of simple things. Food always seems to taste better to me in wild places, maybe because there are fewer distractions and you can really appreciate the basics. Trix eats and then patrols the area. She’s a veteran hiker but this is her first overnight trip and I’m wondering how she’ll deal with it. We poke the fire, make a last run to the spring, set up our sleeping bags in the spots we’ve chosen, then settle around the fire until bedtime. The sun disappears over the final ridge and then spends another hour letting go its grip on the day, the light growing ever weaker until the last vestige rolls away and stars begin to gradually appear and take its place. In spite of all the light pollution, the nights in Vegas remain filled with stars, but nothing like this. Nevada’s still one place where you can see the Milky Way with the naked eye, and in time its smoky trail appears.

Eventually the fire burns low and we retire to our bags. Nick’s down near the corral; I’ve chosen a tree near the cabin under which to sleep, a pine at least a hundred feet high. Trix moves back and forth between us for a time until she settles onto my bag. Away from the fire the chill moves in quickly. I can’t get enough of the night sky, crystally brilliant even without a moon, and it takes me some time to fall asleep. I finally do, only to be woken sometime in the early morning by a frozen dog licking my face. I tried earlier to get Trix into the sleeping bag with me but she wouldn’t come. Now she squeezes in, pressing tight against me, shivering. I adjust to make it as comfortable as possible for both of us, then we sleep until dawn.

I wake first. There’s a woodpecker somewhere in the dawn, picking bugs like some kind of avian alarm clock. I wait for the sleep to clear from my head and eyes while I enjoy the sound, smiling. Trix is still socked out, eyes closed, breathing deep. I enjoy the dual warmth of dog and bag while I wait for the sun to clear the ridge. It takes about twenty minutes or so until the shade clears and warm light bathes the clearing. Time to rise.

We feed the dog and eat breakfast, then make another trek to the spring for water. The peak is only four miles away. We get above the spring and hit a major ridge, very steep and challenging. We push hard. Once up that stretch it’s a long easy push along a gradual rise with incredible views to all sides. We’re moving through a high region now, a good pine forest studded with bristlecone, as well. We emerge on a T-shaped ridge and break right toward Hayford which suddenly looms in view a few hundred feet above. We drop down a final time and begin the last ascent.

The climb gets rugged. We lose the trail and have to scramble over sharp rocks which I know have to tear into Trix’s paws. Then a final challenge: we hit some kind of bush whose only purpose seems to be to rip our legs since both of us were dumb enough to wear shorts, another reality of southern Nevada: sharp plants. I get a major cut on my left knee, three inches long, that bleeds down my leg into my sock and boot, along with who knows how many other scrapes and cuts. Needless to say I love it. What’s the point of going into wilderness if you don’t have a few marks to show for it?

Summitting is always great, and no less this time. It’s surprising, though, to see the peak covered in towers and other mechanical gear. Like the cabin below, the peak is like a reminder of humanity in an otherwise wild space. The closest road is about fifteen miles away. Las Vegas sprawls to the south, half-hidden in smog and dust. We shoot some photos, drink water and eat. I take a look at Trix’s feet and sure enough some of her pads are rubbed down, but there’s no help for it. I can’t carry her fourteen miles. Besides, we got a good look at how we came up the peak and will not have to descend through the briar patch again. On the way down we skirt it completely and make phenomenal time. We’re back at the cabin before we know it, packed up and on our way back toward the truck.

Then the day gets interesting. Clouds that had been building suddenly join forces and the air above us, up on the peak where we were only an hour or so ago, turns dark gray. The wind picks up, strong enough to sway us even with packs on. I like to hike quickly anyway but I move it up another notch, a little concerned about walking down a wash for ten miles, especially in the narrow spaces. The cloud cover helps keep the day cooler, though. We make great time moving down swiftly. But when we hit the Hidden Forest a few miles below the cabin it’s clear that there’s major weather brewing above.

We drop with the storm on our heels, a bit of drizzle hitting us now and again but nothing too serious. The real storm’s above us. I wonder how it would have been if we’d been an hour later in our ascent. By the time we hit the zone of cliffrose again it’s clear we won’t get hit with anything bad. The wind and moisture brings out the best in the flowers, filling the canyon with the cliffrose’s rich scent, and we walk for a mile or so paced by the smell like a fourth companion. When we leave the cliffrose behind the arroyo widens and swings to the right, and we can see the end of our journey. The last mile’s always the hardest; it’s only a cliche because it’s true.

Back at the truck we switch boots out for sandals, slug water. Trix lays in the shade under the truck’s belly, just enough energy left to slurp water from a small bowl. In the truck, she finds a way to sleep as we rattle over washboards on the way home. Behind us the mountain hides in swirling clouds, the strong wind from it pushing us away. But it gave us a great day and night, one not soon to be forgotten.

For more details on the route, check out Jim Boone’s Bird and Hike website

Written by Cathy, posted by Nick

Saturday, June 14th about a dozen of us got up early and headed north to meet up at the Corn Creek Field Station in the Desert National Wildlife Refuge off of Highway 95 north of Las Vegas. After climbing into high clearance vehicles, we headed a few more miles up the Joe May Road toward the Sheep Range. We weren’t there to hike. We were there to reclaim some wild land from illegal off-roaders. We stopped our vehicles next to a sign that clearly indicated “no off-road vehicles” and a rudimentary road that took off across the desert. When someone sees a place that looks like it would be fun to drive on and does, someone else comes along later and sees the tracks and thinks it’s ok to drive there…well, it looks like a road, they say. It doesn’t look like a road anymore! There were before and after photos taken by several folks. Mine are film so it will be a bit before they are developed.

We moved rocks and gravel to hide the edges of the road and moved dead plants to fill in the open space left by tire tracks. The dead plants will help catch seeds and live plants will eventually grow there. This is called vertical mulching.

Next it was off to the end of the road to reclaim where folks kept driving instead of turning around. We planted a new “no off-road vehicle” sign and added a “no fire” sign for the hot summer months. We left the fire pit, because fires would be ok in the cooler months. We did more rock moving. This time some very big rocks were wrangled by the strongest men in the bunch. More vertical mulching was accomplished. The ground was rockier here than the first location which made digging harder.

After taking a short break to sign giant postcards for our four favorite people, our senators and congresspeople to protect the Desert Refuge as wilderness, we set about collecting blackbrush seeds. Sometimes ten years go by before these plants bloom. The conditions have to be just right. Well, they’re blooming this year! The collected seeds will go to replant burned areas. The technique we used was tapping the bushes with a small tennis-type racket while holding a tub under the bush. To steal the comment by one of the volunteers, our job was to “protect and serve!” Or, as I called it, we were bush whacking! This technique dislodged the ripe seeds and, if we were lucky, some of them would land in our tubs. The seeds were all combined into a bag and labeled with the location and collection date to be sorted through later.

All in all, a very productive day!

Last Sunday (June 1st) the Nevada Appeal ran an Op-Ed from the Coalition for Public Access’s Mineral County Liason, Sue Silver. In the Op-Ed she lays out her claim as to why other Nevadans need to be aware of both NWP’s and the Nevada Wilderness Coalition’s work throughout the state, which folks may or may not agree with. There were several quotes that I found particularly interesting, but one in particular lines up with something else I read last week on High Country News’ blog about an effort in Colorado to protect an area known as Brown Canyon.

I think both authors are wrestling with the some of the same issues, while arriving at very different conclusions.  The two juxtaposed points are laid out below.

From Sue Silver’s Op-Ed:

…Residents of Lyon and Mineral counties had less than three months to either thwart that effort or acquiesce to the “hand out” of other aspects of the land bill offered by OUR elected officials - OUR EMPLOYEES…

This affects all Nevadans and all those who come to our backyards to recreate, hunt or fish. It also happens to those whose livings are tied to the land. It affects the economies of the counties and the state.

Don’t be placated by the argument that the land is remote, therefore it must be wilderness. For over 145 years, Nevada’s lands have been tramped upon, prospected, towns settled, towns deserted and graveyards left behind.

What part of that activity could possibly have left “wilderness,” unaffected by man?

From Ed Quillen of HCN:

There are some good questions as to whether the proposed acreage really meets the definition under the 1964 Wilderness Act as “an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man,” and “with the imprint of man’s work substantially unnoticeable.” That acreage has those old roads, as well as prospect holes and logging remnants.

But on the other hand, the last time I was up there, the territory “generally appears to have been affected primarily by the forces of nature,” and it offers “outstanding opportunities for solitude or a primitive and unconfined type of recreation.”

In other words, its suitability as a wilderness is judgment call, and we elect people to make those decisions as to whether its natural attributes substantially outweigh the fading marks of human activity.

What do others think?

This just in from the Las Vegas Sun’s blog…

Poll indicates support for protection of Gold Butte

By Phoebe Sweet · June 5, 2008 · 12:20 PM

John Wallin responds to Sue Silver’s letter about proposed wilderness in Mineral County. Read his response here at Las Vegas CityLife

Sue Silver, Mineral County Liaison for the Coalition for Public Access, responded to Andrew Kiraly’s recent article on Wilderness efforts in Nevada:

The Nevada Wilderness Project overplayed its hand and underestimated the will of the ordinary Nevadan. They offer us NOTHING and want only to TAKE. If they thought we’d lie down and let them hike all over us, they have another thing coming.

Read her letter in its entirety here at Las Vegas CityLife.