Chapter Eight:
Controlling Development: How Much Is Too Much? (1947-1972)
(continued)
Reappraisal: The Wilderness Backcountry
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Of all the portions of Sequoia and Kings Canyon
National Parks subject to a reappraisal of resource management, perhaps
the most profound changes occurred in the backcountry. This enormous
area, almost 98 percent of the parks' total acreage, had suffered from
an unfortunate combination of its own ecological fragility and severe
abuse by prepark settlers and agriculturalists from adjacent lowlands.
Early graphic descriptions of destruction and virtual defoliation were
followed by studies during the 1930s and 1940s by Sumner, Armstrong, and
others. They drew a bleak picture of meadow loss, alpine lake pollution,
and erosion along trails. Yet, in spite of some continued grazing by
cattle and pack stock, and a dramatic postwar rise in backcountry use,
the decades of inaccessibility to the teeming masses of autobound public
had allowed the backcountry to survive, gravely injured in spots but not
mortally. A follow-up study of the Roaring River Grazing District in
Kings Canyon during 1947 showed that the meadows and woodlands could
recover if managed carefully with as little human and animal traffic as
possible. [87]\
Over the next twenty-five years, the rise of science
and shift in management goals and policies would come earliest to the
backcountry and go furthest there toward the ideals expressed in the
Leopold Report. There were four types of issues that faced backcountry
rangers and park biologistscontrolling the numbers and impact of
people in the backcountry; reconciling structures, campsites and other
paraphernalia in an area of officially avowed "wilderness;" managing the
effects of stock use and some cattle grazing on the delicate and still
damaged meadows; and achieving official designation of the backcountry
as a legal wilderness area. Management began with tentative research and
a search for ways to control human and stock use. By 1960 it had evolved
to active management controls which nevertheless still allowed unlimited
visitor access, and thereafter responded to a flood of new backcountry
enthusiasts by turning rapidly to strict controls including visitor
rationing.
Despite the meager funds available, several important
studies of backcountry status were conducted between 1947 and 1952.
Their importance in turning Park Service attention to backcountry
problems far outweighed the actual value of their scientific
conclusions. First, in 1948 biologist Lowell Sumner, then working from
the regional office, conducted a review of tourist damage to mountain
meadows since his earlier 1936 report. [88]
Sumner found conditions largely unimproved and recommended immediate
action lest the deterioration of some meadows reach an irreversible
stage. Four years later, Ranger Bruce Black submitted a second follow-up
study of the Roaring River Grazing District. [89] In comparing the region over a decade,
Black found that while some meadows had remained static and a few had
even improved, in most instances serious and easily observable decline
had continued. Although Black's immediate supervisor took issue with the
degree of pessimism in his report, its conclusions were widely read and
discussed among park administrators. [90]
Hard on the heels of the Roaring River study came a
much more extensive Back Country Use Report compiled by Black,
Assistant Chief Ranger John Rutter and others. [91] The report had required three years of
field study in Sequoia and Kings Canyon and addressed grazing, camping,
trail maintenance, stock use, and many other concerns. In total, the
report was not excessively negative. The authors called sanitation and
camping issues irritations rather than serious problems. In both parks
meadow damage was not yet severe, although invasion by weeds and trees
was widespread, thought to be the result of overgrazing. To control
camping, Black and his colleagues suggested constructing campgrounds at
six backcountry sites and removing the dozens of visitor-built sites
scattered through the parks. They also proposed a detailed annual
program for maintenance of trails; construction of six new high-country
trails, ranging in length from three to more than twenty miles, to
absorb increased visitor usage; and establishment of nine new ranger
stations to house a larger backcountry staff who could better patrol the
region.
Although the tone of the Back Country Use
Report was generally optimistic, the authors were explicit in their
proposals and cautionary in their conclusion:
There is no reason to believe that we cannot stop all
damaging practices; that meadows cannot be restored; that camps cannot
be clean and appropriate; that fisheries cannot be maintained; and that
the Wilderness Atmosphere cannot be preserved. A start has been made and
if aggressively pursued, the end product will be gratifying to everyone
concerned. [92]
Understated and between the lines of this conclusion
were the increasingly obvious facts that damaging practices were
occurring, meadows needed restoration, camps were not clean or
appropriate, and that the wilderness atmosphere was in jeopardy. Park
Biologist Lowell Sumner urged caution and deliberation in constructing
camps and ranger stations, but enthusiastically supported the rest of
the report. [93]
Even before Black's two reports joined those of
Sumner and Armstrong, park officials had begun to look for ways to
ameliorate damage and crowding in the backcountry. One way park rangers
could control stock use was by limiting the number of concession packers
and their horses in the backcountry. Because they were concession
operators, making a profit on park resources, they could be controlled
where individual stock users could not. Park officials exercised this
power on an organization known as the Three Corners Round Outfit. This
group, founded by employees of the Cleveland Museum of Natural History,
brought teenage boys into the mountains each summer to teach them skills
in stock riding and care, camping and wilderness practices, trail
building, shooting, and, incidentally, natural history, all at a cost of
about $400 per boy. In 1951 Superintendent Scoyen received a number of
complaints that this group, consisting of fourteen boys and two men, had
more than forty burros which had virtually eliminated the forage in the
Sixty-Lakes area. This was not the first time complaints had been
received about this group and after consultation with the regional
office, local packers, and the Sierra Club, Scoyen declared the group to
be a concession and slapped a limit on their operation. Two years later,
the Three Corners Round Outfit would again fall foul of park rangers for
refusing to stop building their own trails in the Kings Canyon high
country, for stocking fish in park lakes, for shooting firearms in the
parks, and for indiscriminate collection of animals and plants. Three
Corners Round owners had been operating in this fashion for more than
twenty years and were deeply aggrieved, but nonetheless they complied
when ordered to desist. [94]
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Until the advent of helicopters,
backcountry operations in Sequoia and Kings Canyon depended entirely
upon strings of pack mules. Here mules ascend the north side of Forester
Pass on the Kings-Kern Divide. (National Park Service
photo)
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At the same time that the Three Corners Round Outfit
was confronted, the Park Service began to look for ways to improve or
close one of the more degenerate backcountry camps. Located just inside
the park's southeast boundary on the Kern River, Camp Lewis (or Coterno)
consisted of six tent cabins, a tent-top dining room, and a log
structure housing a store and a kitchen. Its condition was variously
reported as "flimsy," "unsightly," and "beyond repair." Park officials
insisted that the owner, as a concessioner, clean and repair his camp
whereupon, in 1952, he cheerfully gave up any claim to the camp. Park
officials razed and removed most of the facilities the following spring.
[95]
Controlling the Three Corners Round Outfit and
eliminating Camp Lewis were steps in the right direction, but small
steps in what rangers recognized as a long journey. By 1950, intense
discussions among park officials centered on the concept of placing
restrictions on the backcountry which would go well beyond those already
in place in the frontcountry. Although use of the parks by pack stock
had fallen by 40 percent between 1947 and 1952 the reports by Black
served further notice on meadow damage as well as other problems related
to people and horses. In 1952, Park Naturalist Howard Stagner proposed
regulation of the number of stock per visitor, the size of an individual
party and length of stay, plus stipulations against trail building, fish
planting, and dirty camps. He also proposed indefinite closing of
certain meadows to stock use. Some of these proposals were new, many
were not. They mirrored the concerns and ideas of most rangers who
worked and studied the backcountry. [96]
The problem with implementing these recommendations
arose from two sources. First, stock-user associations resented and
feared any control on their activity. The backcountry had persisted as
an area of free activity, a virtual frontier, well beyond the settled
low country and road-accessible portions of the mountains. Any type of
restriction on use of the backcountry was viewed as another attempt to
box in and regulate to death the last vestiges of pioneer America. The
East Side and West Side Packers associations numbered in their
membership important and often powerful individuals including several
congressmen, assorted state and local legislators, and many wealthy
businessmen and landowners. The Park Service could ill afford to anger
these vocal and powerful groups. [97]
At the same time, and of even greater concern, there
was a general lack of funds in this pre-Mission 66 administration to
enforce any regulations. For years, while visitors and park employees
bemoaned the decay of frontcountry structures, roads, and visitor
contact facilities, rangers likewise worried about backcountry trail
maintenance and law enforcement. Chief Ranger Irwin Kerr sent a stream
of memoranda and letters through channels seconding the need for
regulation but wondering who would patrol these new campgrounds,
restricted lakes and meadows, and miles of new trails. After release of
the Back Country Use Report, Superintendent Scoyen sent it on to
the director in hopes that increases in funding and labor allotments
might be forthcoming. However, in November 1953, Assistant Director
Thomas Allen responded with an all too familiar recommendation:
It will probably not be feasible to carry out...all
of the recommendations that we may agree are necessary.... Some of the
proposals, however, can be put into execution without additional funds
or personnel by giving them greater emphasis in the overall Park
program. [98]
In the face of deterioration of the parks' natural
resources as well as its visitor and government facilities, the Park
Service could do no more than encourage stretching overtaxed labor and
insufficient funds even further.
After 1953 a hiatus set in, although park rangers
continued to compile status reports on backcountry resources and
problems. Park officials did close a few severely damaged meadows, yet
at the same time a steady rise of visitors increased pressure on the
remainder. By 1955, Kerr estimated that backcountry visitors had more
than doubled in the previous decade, due in part to a new high-speed
highway connecting Los Angeles with Owens Valley and its eastern and
shortest approaches to the high country. He further estimated that
nearly all that increase came in the form of backpackers. Questions
about policy, about purpose, and about the quality of the wilderness
experience repeatedly arose from visitors and organizations,
particularly the Sierra Club. [99]
The year 1958 marked a shift into higher gear for
resolution of the parks' backcountry problems. Former concession packer
Hugh Traweek applied for a permit to reestablish his business in Kings
Canyon. He had sold his former operation and the new owner was happily
making a profit. Traweek was a popular and able packer, well-liked by
other stock users, by the public, and by park officials. Yet their
appraisal of resource quality and carrying capacity caused those
officials to reject his application. For the next three years Traweek
engaged in a test of wills by calling in every ally and potential friend
he could find to force the Park Service to capitulate. Senators,
congressmen, a governor, assorted wealthy nabobs, and a host of former
customers besieged the park with letters of support for Traweek. Through
it all, with the backing of the regional office, local Park Service
officers stood fast in rejecting his application. They had no beef with
Traweek, but could not morally justify stripping another packer of his
concession and would not sanction an increase of pack stock business in
the most delicate and damaged portion of the backcountry. [100]
Also during 1958, the Sierra Club conducted a highly
touted and publicized drive to remove trash from two popular lakes in
the Kings Canyon backcountry. In a few days they collected more than
three tons of trash from the two lakeshores. Through the 1950s the
Sierra Club had taken an ever greater interest in backcountry management
and ecology. They instituted a series of discussions and studies aimed
at determining whether their own large pack trips were excessively
harmful. Although initial results indicated that the effect per person
was lower in a large party, they continued to sponsor these studies over
the next fifteen years. In the case of this trash collection, the club
performed a valuable and symbolic gesture. Within weeks the Park Service
began to study ways to collect the trash accumulated over the entire
840,000 plus-acre backcountry and initiated a campaign to have visitors
carry out their own bottles and cans. For decades the policy had been to
burn and bury trash, flattening the cans and breaking bottles if
possible. In many cases, this trash resurfaced at popular camping areas
a few months or years later. [101]
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Superintendent Scoyen and Director Wirth
ponder the rugged heart of Kings Canyon National Park. (National Park
Service photo)
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Finally, also in 1958, the Park Service commissioned
biologist Dr. Carl W Sharsmith to conduct a major study of the status of
backcountry meadows. Once again the Park Service appealed to a trained
scientist to help determine management policy. In his study, released
the following year, Sharsmith reported that meadows were undergoing
serious decline or change throughout the parks but particularly in the
area known as the Rae Lakes Loop which encompasses the Paradise and
Bubbs Creek trails from Kearsarge Pass to Kings Canyon. [102] Bullfrog Lake, one of the nearest to the
easily accessible pass, was a virtual catastrophe. Almost every meadow
from 6,000 to 8,500 feet was being invaded by weeds, lodgepole pine, or
both. Sharsmith recommended revolutionary steps, including complete
exclusion of camping and other activities at Bullfrog Lake, restrictions
on the size of stock parties, construction of camp and latrine
facilities to concentrate human impact, prohibition of "base camps,"
encouragement of the practice of packing out one's trash, and finally
loose herding of stock. Loose herding meant allowing horses or mules to
wander in a general direction over a broad area rather than confining
them in single or double file along a narrow trail where they would
damage trails and overgraze forage. [103]
Sharsmith's report convinced the Park Service to take
more assertive steps to redress backcountry problems. The following
season, 1960, marked the first time park officials restricted campers
from an area. Not only were tourists to avoid Bullfrog Lake but the
nearby Kearsarge Lakes as well. Backcountry rangers estimated that in
the previous seven seasons, annual visitor use of these areas had
averaged 26,000 camper days and 2,100 stock-use days, all on about
thirty acres. [104] As reports of a major
Inyo County program to repave and extend mountain access roads reached
the parks' administration, it restricted stock use in six meadows in
Kings Canyon National Park, commenced an annual backcountry trash
cleanup drive, and initiated a study to devise a comprehensive
backcountry management plan. The study would not only direct Sequoia and
Kings Canyon, but also serve as a model for all the nation's parks with
extensive wilderness areas. [105]
The Backcountry Management Plan for Sequoia and
Kings Canyon National Parks was released a year later. [106] Park Service scientists Maurice Thede,
Lowell Sumner, and ranger William Briggle completed an exhaustive
literature review and three lengthy field trips in composing what became
a major philosophical as well as practical guide to backcountry
management. The scientists began with the basics. They defined
wilderness, conservation, and carrying capacity, and discussed such
concepts as the ultimate goal of conservation, what type of people used
the wilderness, and wilderness protection versus personal freedom.
Thereafter, they launched into specific recommendations, many of which
echoed Sharsmith's proposals. Additionally, however, they suggested an
increased ranger force, a vigorous program of meadow and camping area
exclusions, an interagency approach to backcountry tourist management,
and construction of seven relatively large and permanent "rustic camps"
each with fireplace, tables, hitching rack and pit toilet. They also
suggested that the Park Service use helicopters rather than pack stock
as the least disruptive management tools. The Backcountry Management
Plan became the blueprint for Sequoia and Kings Canyon over the next
decade. Park rangers restricted the meadows Thede and company had
proposed for exclusion, and instituted a program of regular meadow
monitoring for future management decisions. Two new ranger positions
created in 1961 allowed the parks to undertake a systematic backcountry
cleanup. Employees and volunteers removed fourteen tons of tin cans and
buried six tons of other trash in the first year alone. The cleanup
program continued until 1967, when it was deemed a success. Annual
backcountry reports apprised the park administration of problem areas,
trail maintenance requirements, and ecological recovery or degeneration.
Until 1965, park foresters removed lodgepole pines that encroached on
damaged meadows. However, park biologists, responding to the Leopold
Report, halted this action to conduct studies of succession and find out
if this was a natural process. [107] In
1969, the Park Service dropped plans for backcountry shelters and the
following year removed most of the remaining backcountry telephone
lines. Although the number of maintained trail miles fluctuated
periodically with budget constraints, it was allowed to fall from 952 to
755 during the decade. Piece by piece, area by area, the Park Service
edged toward a truer but more regulated "wilderness" backcountry. [108]
The environmental consciousness-raising of the
sixties paid off for Sequoia and Kings Canyon with a concerted steady
shift of management attitude toward regulation, exclusion, and whatever
other policies were necessary to foster ecological viability of
backcountry resources. The Backcountry Management Plan, Leopold
Report, and passage of the federal Wilderness Act assisted that
philosophical evolution. That same environmental movement, however,
propelled thousands of new backpackers, hungry for wilderness
experience, into the fragile alpine reaches of the two parks. From 1962
to 1971, the number of people who officially entered the backcountry
jumped from slightly over 8,000 to more than 44,000 while visitor days
increased from 57,000 to well over 200,000. [109] By 1970 it was clear that even the
recommendations of the 1961 management plan were out of date. Research
for a new backcountry management plan commenced amidst discussion of a
variety of relatively extreme measures.
The next year of decision came in 1972. Research for
the new plan was well underway. In addition, an in-depth study by
Richard Hartesveldt, Thomas Harvey, and J.T. Stanley on behalf of the
Sierra Club recommended stronger action including regulations for use of
kerosene cookery instead of wood stoves, for carrying out all trash
including organic matter, and for designating outing itineraries to
avoid overuse of popular areas. [110] A few
months later, Regional Director Howard Chapman suggested that the parks
study a newly published NPS report on regulating for carrying capacity
in wilderness areas. [111] But the local
parks administration had already taken some of these steps by the time
the corroborating correspondence and interim research reports had
reached them. In July 1972, at the start of the main backcountry season,
the Park Service and Forest Service began issuing interagency wilderness
permits in place of the old campfire permitsan effort to control
all access to the parks' backcountry from both east and west sides. The
heavily traveled Rae Lakes Loop was declared a control zone and limits
were placed on the number of permits issued to that popular area. This
was a test of procedure and public reaction to be followed by more
extensive permit regulations if successful. To the pleasure of park
officials, the new plan was accepted with few complaints. The public by
and large seemed to understand the need for controls in the interest of
protecting the resource. [112]
As the Park Service edged toward total visitor
control in its wilderness backcountry, a related issue unfolded during
the 1960s. In 1964, after years of urging by preservationist groups and
some sportsmen's societies, Congress passed the Wilderness Act. [113] By this act legislators could designate
portions of federal lands which exhibited "wilderness" character as
so-named areas. Wilderness was defined in the act as "an area where the
earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man
himself is a visitor who does not remain,...of undeveloped Federal land
retaining its primeval character and influence..." Within these
"wilderness areas," the act banned any form of development such as
timber cutting, mining and quarrying, and all roads. [114] But to qualify for wilderness status, the
proposed area had to be free of these features at the start. Of course,
the vast majority of Sequoia and Kings Canyon met these criteria easily.
Under instructions from the Washington office, park officials began to
formulate specific recommendations for how much of the parks' land
should be included in wilderness and thus be legally immune from any
future development.
Given the evolving attitude within the parks toward
backcountry preservation, it would seem that the matter could have been
settled easily and quickly. However, in addition to its definition of
wilderness and the regulations against development, the act also
provided for public participation in the planning procedure. This was an
act that rigidly proscribed economic use of large tracts of public land.
Legislators wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to offer his or
her comments on how large an area should be so designated. The public
review procedure could be lengthy and the debate fairly intense. The
Forest Service moved rapidly on its lands, designating by 1966 a large,
alpine portion of the adjacent Sierra and Inyo national forests as the
John Muir Wilderness Area. However, the Park Service, an agency far more
committed to absolute preservation than its Department of Agriculture
rival, seemed to have problems with the process.
Initial hearings for the proposed wilderness area of
the two parks took place on November 21 and 22, 1966. Fifty people
testified and 477 letters and documents were accepted. The Park Service
had proposed an area of 740,165 acres or 87 percent of the parks' then
total 847,194 acres. Conspicuously absent from the proposed area were
Redwood Mountain, classified as a scientific reserve for the continuing
prescribed burn experimentation, and the Yucca Mountain region in the
foothills of Sequoia National Park. The Sierra Club and other
preservation organizations favored up to 98 percent of the parks' land
in wilderness and, in all, more than nine of every ten respondents
wanted more land in the wilderness area than the Park Service had
proposed. Some 2 percent wanted less or no land in wilderness and the
rest went along with the Park Service plan. A few organizations
interested in a planned ski development at Mineral King resisted
wilderness designation for park lands surrounding that valley and
adjacent to its only access route, the Mineral King Road through
Sequoia. However they were perfectly content to increase wilderness area
designation elsewhere in the two parks. Despite the overwhelming
response in favor of greater wilderness acreage, the confusion over
details temporarily shelved the whole proposal. [115]
After some rethinking, further discussion with
interested groups, and more detailed planning, local park officials
forwarded a new proposal to the regional office in March 1967. In this
proposal, Redwood Mountain (also called Redwood Canyon) and Yucca
Mountain were included as wilderness, but a buffer strip along the
Mineral King Road and around the proposed ski development was removed.
The new proposal totaled 768,515 acres or 91 percent of the parks. Local
officials confidently awaited approval, but a few months later
objections to the Mineral King exclusions and initiation of study for a
new master plan once again postponed further action. [116]
With the release of the parks' master plan in 1971,
the public began to review yet a third proposal for wilderness in
Sequoia and Kings Canyon national parks. During the master plan study,
park officials had become extremely rigid about their interpretation of
the Wilderness Act. In this latest proposal, planners had excluded small
areas surrounding any and all visitor facilities including overnight
shelters and sanitation facilities. On the map this created a wilderness
region with so-called "swiss cheese holes" of development. In addition,
planners excluded a strip along the Mineral King Road and an area around
Alta Peak where a tramway was being considered. The total acreage of the
new proposal was 721,970 acres or 85 percent of the parks' land, the
lowest total up to that time. The Park Service then began another round
of public hearings and correspondence, which met with savage attack by
preservation organizations. Each area excluded from wilderness status
was an area that could potentially be developed further. The "swiss
cheese" look of this latest plan left opportunity for development to be
scattered throughout the parks. Soon it became apparent to the Park
Service that this round of simple hearings was going to take much longer
and be much more acrimonious than they had hoped. By the end of 1972,
the debate still raged. As the Park Service continued to shift its
backcountry management priorities toward wilderness preservation, its
proposals for the legalization of that "wilderness" status continued to
arouse impassioned conflict among backcountry enthusiasts. [117] In 1984 Congress would settle the issue
with much less political turmoil, as the next chapter will discuss.
The profound changes witnessed over these twenty-five
years of backcountry resource management gave fitting evidence of the
full implications of the rise of science in Park Service philosophy.
Because the region had hitherto escaped severe use, its resource policy
was the easiest to change. Because its users were unusually
preservation-oriented themselves, they would suffer the constraints of
exclusion and permits. Because the resource so easily showed stress, the
evidence favoring ecological management was patently obvious. In the
backcountry the revolution personified by Sumner, Armstrong,
Hartesveldt, and Cain, codified by the Leopold Report, and bolstered by
hundreds of smaller studies and reports sent the first shock waves that
would freeze the parks as ecological islands in their time.
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