By Stuart Garrett
For The Bulletin

I recently read a Bulletin editorial counseling against designating the Badlands as wilderness. It confused me. I thought we had this one figured out 20 years ago! I remember those community meetings with the public input and all the charts and graphs. I recall the pronouncements from the politicians about how it was a `win-win` decision. I think the George Bush White House even signed off on it. The BLM wants it as wilderness, the environmentalists want it, the Chamber of Commerce wrote a letter in support, and one of the grazing permitees wants it. Even the dirt-bikers aren't in violent opposition. Oh well, there's a bunch of new folks in town and I guess they can't be expected to re-call history.

Thinking maybe I had missed something, I talked to several acquaintances about the matter.

I started out by talking to a geologist friend who said `Yeah, it is really an interesting area. It's as good an example of basaltic lava flows as you'll find. It should be protected from the folks who for years have driven out and chipped away the remarkable, ropy, lava flows for their stone fireplaces in Bend.`

A wildlife biologist mentioned winter deer range and spring foraging for the antelope herd in the area. He has occasionally seen elk there and pointed out that cavity nesting birds really like the old, hollow junipers.
I spoke with a local buckaroo. He said, `That area is well-named. It doesn't have much grass and has no water. Fences are hard to build and keep up. Yeah, its best use may be for wildlands. I sure don't like running cattle in there!`

I spoke with a newly arrived urban refugee from a large western city as she was sitting on a downtown Bend sidewalk sipping a four dollar smoothie. She said, `I can't believe that Bend has a true wilderness area only 10 miles from town. It's awesome. I love to go there. The solitude is wonderful. The quiet is overwhelming.`

One of my `Chamber of Commerce` friends was approached. He said, `I thought Bend had transitioned from an economy dedicated to pedal-to-the-metal resource extraction to one where open space, clean waters, and quality recreation were the keys to our economic future. Wilderness sounds like a good idea to me. No one gets hurt!`

A researcher from Oregon State University told me that the oldest tree in Oregon (over 1,600 years old) is a mile away on Horse Ridge and that there might be an older one in the Badlands itself. He felt bad because vandals have been driving illegally in the area and cutting the older trees for firewood and/or furniture. He pointed out that those ancient trees can't be replaced even in a thousand years. It's just not a renewable resource!

An archaeologist I called said the area was worth protecting because of the evidence of Indians living there for thousands of years. She wouldn't tell me much because so many of the archaeological sites in Central Oregon have been decimated by pothunters and collectors with unlimited motorized access to areas that are hard to patrol and harder to protect.

I spoke with a land use planner who said, `Oregon's land use laws are set up to concentrate people in towns and leave open space and agricultural space around them. The Badlands fits perfectly into that
strategy.`

A lower-level federal employee said, `Wilderness would be administratively appropriate. We could fence the perimeter and not have to patrol as much or keep reclosing roads. We wouldn't have to worry so much about ORVs and wouldn't have to chase illegal woodcutters as often. We wouldn't have to worry about roads bringing in weeds. Yeah, wilderness would make it cheaper to manage and the management plan will be less complicated, too.`

One of my friends who is a real estate developer said, `Hey, anything that makes Bend a more attractive place to come to is a plus.`

So I thought about it some more. From a selfish standpoint I don't want a bunch of other people to know about what I consider one of my `secret places.` You see, if I go out there on a cold, clear February afternoon, I don't see anyone. I don't hear anything except the Townsend's solitaires as they sit in the top of a juniper and sound like a creaky gate. In the fresh snow I can see where a bobcat chased down a rabbit. I can hear the ravens scold me or I can follow the occasional deer print. I can wander for hours. The light on the snow and on the ancient junipers tells me all I need to know about living in Central Oregon. In the end, we need this wild spot. We need it for Bend and for ourselves. Wilderness still makes sense for the Badlands.