Public land in desert is a natural haven, but also a playground of off-road partiers

March 19, 2000
By Jim Witty
The Bulletin

For more than 30 years, Alice Elshoff has treasured all that is good about The Badlands.

And over the years, she's shared lava, juniper, gully and gulch with scientists, visitors, journalists and schoolkids, anyone interested enough to boot up and head out into the desert. For those who already appreciate their landscape severe and their water from a canteen, the visual payoff can be enough. For those who don't or are left wanting more, Elshoff fills in the blanks.

There's a little dry canyon tucked into this stern country where the rocks were burnished smooth by an ancient river that once drained Lake Millican during occasional lulls in the Ice Age. Elshoff knows it well.

There are tinajas here, partially filled with water from the last brief rain storm. Faded petroglyphs, blurred by the action of wind and water, are still visible on the walls of caves carved into the slot. And this late winter afternoon, there's a Townsend's solitaire somewhere (not far) off to the north, squalling like a rusty gate.

Elshoff hears the little bird staking its territory, smiles and offers its natural history, condensed version.

Then a frown alters the geometry of her handsome face.

She's noticed tire tracks leading downstream, a downed juniper with several limbs missing, probably fuel for a bonfire she says and an empty beer can. At the mouth of the canyon, someone has rolled away the boulders that briefly kept the trucks at bay.

`This is really disgusting,` she says, still frowning. `There is no assurance against idiots. But it would be easier to get a handle on this if they didn't have easy access into the area.`

Elshoff, who's a board member of the Oregon Natural Desert Association, has long pushed for elected officials to designate the 34,000-acre Badlands 15 miles east of Bend a wilderness area. Doing so would prohibit vehicles from traveling the dirt road that bisects what is now a wilderness study area managed by the Bureau of Land Management.

Elshoff's is no longer a lone voice preaching to the choir. With the population of Central Oregon exploding and abuses piling up, the prospects for Congressional action appear bright.

In a letter last summer to President Clinton, Sen. Ron Wyden contended that The Badlands `merits wilderness or other special protection.` On Thursday, Wyden came to town and said he thinks a wilderness designation could make it through Congress, but probably not this year.
But Central Oregon wilderness advocates believe they can bring enough pressure to bear to place legislation on the fast track.

`There is so little opposition to this,` Elshoff said, claiming the support of neighboring land owners, Bend city officials, even ranchers. `It seems that he could do it if he really leaned into it. This is kind of a no-brainer.`

In an unusual alliance, rancher Ray Clarno, who holds four livestock grazing allotments on The Badlands, has joined with environmentalists in stumping for a wilderness designation.

`If there weren't motorized ve hicles in there, we wouldn't have most of these problems,` Clarno said. ` ... I think motorized vehicles have to be restricted or eliminated. It's the only way the BLM can control The Badlands.`

Clarno said he's had continuous problems with people destroying his fences, dumping garbage, illegally cutting trees, stripping stolen vehicles, even killing livestock.

Last month, Clarno and 14 other neighboring land owners directed a letter to Deschutes County Commissioners describing the problem and urging their support for a wilderness designation for the area.

Like Elshoff, Joani Dufourd professes a deep attachment to the high desert land east of town. But she looks at it from a different angle.

Dufourd believes that access for all not just hikers and horseback riders should be maintained.

`They are not alone in wanting to protect the environment,` says Dufourd, a longtime off-highway vehicle activist in Central Oregon and former president of the national Blue Ribbon Coalition that represents motorized vehicle recreationists. `The problem is one side won't share ... I love that area as much as Alice Elshoff does. And I want to be able to see it. Tell me how riding over rock is going to hurt it.`

Wilderness advocates argue that off-road vehicles threaten fragile plant life, leave long-lasting tracks and disturb the solitude.

Off-road vehicle enthusiasts lost some ground last year when an Oregon District Court directed the BLM to prepare an environmental impact statement to analyze impacts of continued off highway vehicle use in Millican Valley to the east of The Badlands. In the interim, off-road use of the Millican Valley Off-Highway Vehicle Area was restricted to the existing routes and trails; the winter closure area on the north side of the valley was also expanded.

Today, 60 miles of trails in the valley are open to off-roaders, with 120 more miles slated to open up May 1 and another 45 miles in August, according to the BLM.

Dufourd subscribes to the Blue Ribbon motto, `preserving our natural resources for the public, not from the public,` and argues that the problem in The Badlands and elsewhere lies in lack of management or bad management by the BLM.

And she stresses and Elshoff agrees that very little or none of the illegal activity on The Badlands is by families with off-road vehicles or members of organized clubs. Rather, its beer-fueled partiers in 4x4 trucks the proverbial few bad eggs.

It's not the fault of the roads,` says Dufourd, a semi-retired office manager who's ridden dirt bikes for more than 20 years. `It's the negligence of land managers in managing the areas ... The Badlands does not belong in a wilderness designation. It's too small. And its had too much use.

`It's just bogus. It has been historically open for multiple use. Everybody likes multiple use as long as its their multiple use. We're not out there to run over Bambi and pillage the forest.`

But it happens. And Elshoff and ONDA Director Bill Marlett contend that keeping vehicles out of The Badlands would make it a lot easier to minimize the damage. And they argue that, given projected growth in the region and its proximity to Bend, The Badlands should be made off limits to motorized vehicles for perpetuity.

`Our opportunities for wilderness in Central Oregon are pretty limited,` Marlett says. `It is the only desert wilderness opportunity in Deschutes County. If people want to see sage grouse and pronghorn east of Bend, they'll have to make a decision between that and motorcycles.`

While off-roaders would dispute that assertion, anti-machine activists may be gaining ground across the West. That despite or possibly because sales of off-road vehicles rose by more than 250 percent over the last 10 years, according to the Motorcycle Industry Council.

Nowhere is the trend more pronounced than in Utah. There the debate is not so much an up-down vote on motorized off-road vehicles but just how far to go in closing off public land to off-road riders and drivers.

On the San Rafael Swell in eastern Utah, a 600,000 labyrynth of canyons, mesas and hoodoos, environmental groups and federal officials are arguing over the merits of a more moderate, politically expedient approach favored by the Clinton administration that offers partial protection via a conservation area versus an all-or-nothing wilderness strategy backed by environmental groups.

Environmental groups in Utah claim the BLM has allowed off-road vehicles to ramble roughshod over the 23 million acres it oversees in Utah.

Off-road enthusiasts say its an old story: There are trails they're using, and wilderness advocates want to boot them off.

Back in Clarno country, rancher Ray is talking up the idea of rejiggering the law to allow grazing permittees to sell their permits to a land conservation group or the government so they can be permanently retired. It could be a good option for some, especially in areas being proposed for wilderness, Clarno acknowledged.

`Do I think permit holders should have the option to retire their permits at their discretion?` asks Clarno. `Yes. It expands your market and gives it a little more value.`

Dufourd says she understands Clarno's frustration but adds that's not reason enough to close the area off to an entire group of us ers.
`We have to fight for every inch we get,` she says.

Elshoff knows the feeling. She's been pursuing a wilderness designation for The Badlands for 20 years.

`Every national park, every wildlife refuge is here because someone or some group drew a line and said `I won't quit until this gets done.' I know how she feels.`