\n <\/p>\n
Tom Ribe leans into the steering wheel of his green pickup, its dashboard a mosaic of souvenir pins from public lands. Just past the Valles Caldera National Preserve sign, in New Mexico\u2019s Jemez Mountains, he brakes. The pine forests sandwiching Highway 4 have dropped away, replaced to the north by the Valle Grande, a stunningly expansive, treeless valley surrounded by gentle, forested domes.<\/p>\n
The valley was created after the volcano, whose magma still boils a few miles underground, erupted and its crater collapsed inward from the rim. Cold air drains into the valley, forming an inverse treeline. The view \u2013 a sea of white in winter, a verdant grassland in summer \u2013 is singular in New Mexico.<\/p>\n
But this January morning, Ribe focuses on something more pedestrian: the newest panel on the preserve\u2019s timber-frame sign, a brown National Park Service arrowhead. \u201cI love seeing that Park Service logo,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
The preserve was added to the national park system last fall, ending a 14-year experiment in semi-private public-land management, and prompting stakeholders to consider the lessons learned. For many locals, the 89,000 acres remained mysterious and forbidden even after the federal government purchased them. Now, with the Park Service in charge, the public is assured open access to the valleys, streams and hot springs hidden behind the domes ringing the Valle Grande.<\/p>\n
To Ribe and his wife, Monique Schoustra, longtime advocates for Park Service management, this seems a small miracle \u2013 especially since it required an act of Congress. Ribe, who often writes op-eds for High Country News, has strong opinions about public lands, but a calm and quiet demeanor. \u201cI have this pessimism in me sometimes,\u201d he confesses. \u201cI really didn\u2019t think it was going to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n
In the parking lot, Ribe and Schoustra run into two friends. They yuck it up about being able to get in for \u201cfree\u201d with their national parks passes and take off in any direction \u2013 which we soon do on snowshoes, into a cold wind that bites at our temples and skims powder from crusty snow. The slender grasses poking through it shiver.<\/p>\n
The Valles Caldera became a private ranch in 1876. From Highway 4, passersby could admire the miles-wide sweep of the Valle Grande, but not the treasures beyond it. Access to the view alone wasn\u2019t much, but it was enough to make New Mexicans feel they had a stake in the place.<\/p>\n
In the late 1990s, recognizing public support for a purchase, New Mexico\u2019s senior senator, Republican Pete Domenici, overcame his opposition to more federally owned land and struck a deal with President Bill Clinton. Instead of being run by the Forest Service or National Park Service, the Valles Caldera would be managed by a presidentially appointed citizens\u2019 board. This \u201cTrust\u201d would continue to lease land for grazing, but also manage the preserve for ecological health, recreation, timber, hunting and fishing. And it had 15 years to make the whole thing financially self-sufficient. Domenici\u2019s support was key to securing money from the Land and Water Conservation Fund. In 2000, enjoying a rare budget surplus, the U.S. government purchased the property for $97 million.<\/p>\n
\u201cEven in Congress, people believed the nation could afford to buy itself a wonderful gift,\u201d says author, conservationist and former chair of the Trust, William deBuys.<\/p>\n
But the Trust had trouble living up to its many \u2013 sometimes conflicting \u2013 goals. Though it wasn\u2019t a typical public agency, it still had to comply with federal administrative and environmental regulations. Compliance was labor-intensive and frequently \u201cbewildering\u201d for trustees, recalls deBuys.<\/p>\n
On top of that, while other public lands are included in a federal insurance pool, the Trust had to buy its own coverage. It was costly and put the Trust perpetually \u201cone lawsuit away from having to close their doors,\u201d says University of New Mexico professor Melinda Harm Benson, who studies public lands.<\/p>\n
To help cover costs, the preserve charged high fees. Grazing fees were around 10 times what they are on other federal lands. Hikers, bikers and skiers, who were restricted to a few trails, were charged $10 per person, per day, per activity, when most national park units charged $10 to $20 per vehicle for seven days and most national forests and BLM lands could be visited for free. Elk-hunting tags often went to hunters who could afford up to 20 lottery tickets to increase their odds in the draws.<\/p>\n
The public balked, and the Trust still lacked financial self-sufficiency. \u201cIt was pricing everyday New Mexicans out of this public treasure,\u201d says Joel Gay of the New Mexico Wildlife Federation, a sportsmen\u2019s group that supported National Park Service management.<\/p>\n
Despite the Trust\u2019s experimental charter, says Benson, people\u2019s expectations remained rooted in the egalitarian values that helped create public lands. \u201cThere was early on a general concern that the Valles Caldera might become a playground for the few,\u201d she says, which was evident in the debate around the lucrative hunting program.<\/p>\n
In response to public concerns, in 2013 the Trust implemented a more equitable one hunter-one ticket lottery system. That impacted revenues, but the Trust viewed financial self-sufficiency as just one goal, not the primary one. Eventually, it even reinterpreted its mandate: It would aim only to recover the costs of programs like grazing and recreation, rather than to make the entire preserve self-sufficient. That, Benson says, highlights a key lesson of the experiment: \u201cMaking money isn\u2019t what public lands do best.\u201d<\/p>\n
As we skirt one of the Valle Grande\u2019s volcanic domes, busting through wind-swept snow sculpted like desert sandstone, I ask Ribe and Schoustra: Why the Park Service? New Mexico has few public lands that aren\u2019t managed for multiple use, Ribe responds. Forest Service oversight, he says, would have come with the possibility of logging, off-road vehicles and a lot more cows \u2014 looser protections, in other words, heightening the risk of the place getting \u201ctrashed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought it would be really great to have a place that was not an archaeological site in the Park Service, where you could have a large piece of land and say, \u2018Here\u2019s an alternative way of relating to this place,\u2019 \u201d says Ribe. He and others wanted it protected not for its practical utility, but for its wildlife and its aesthetic, even spiritual, qualities.<\/p>\n
The Park Service is still developing its management plan, a process likely to take a few years, so the scope of changes remains uncertain. For instance, it\u2019s unclear how much of the preserve will be opened to overnight camping, which was previously restricted to one unimproved campground.<\/p>\n
Daytime access has already increased substantially, though, and fees are consistent with other Park Service units. Visitors can get in with a national parks pass or a $20 weekly vehicle fee, and a new backcountry vehicle permit allows anyone to drive into the more remote northern valleys. \u201c(It\u2019s) created a release valve for that pent-up desire to explore,\u201d says Jorge Silva-Ba\u00f1uelos, the preserve\u2019s new superintendent.<\/p>\n
Grazing will continue to some extent, but only for research or historical interpretation. This is a significant change from the Trust\u2019s original charter, Silva-Ba\u00f1uelos says, but stocking rates had already been reduced from historic levels. When the Trust took over, researchers used a model to determine appropriate cattle numbers to leave enough plant cover for elk, birds and erosion control. They found there was typically enough to support 750 cows for four months annually; the private owners had run as many as 9,000 head for six months. Cattle were eventually kept out of riparian areas, and removed altogether during severe drought.<\/p>\n
Remarkably, no lawsuits followed. In fact, the Trust, which supported a robust research and monitoring program run by ecologist Bob Parmenter, was never sued. That\u2019s a testament, Benson says, to the success of transparent, science-based decision making, which is widely viewed as the Trust\u2019s most important legacy. It\u2019s an approach Silva-Ba\u00f1uelos plans to continue.<\/p>\n
As morning wanes, a storm approaches, whitewashing the sky. There are few sounds aside from the wind and our steps, and no one else in sight, until we crest a subtle rise and spot a lone skier.<\/p>\n
I ask Ribe and Schoustra if they worry that the new status might bring too many visitors. They don\u2019t. In nearby Bandelier National Monument, they point out, the expansive backcountry is underused. It probably won\u2019t be much different here.<\/p>\n
Silva-Ba\u00f1uelos agrees, saying most visitation will be concentrated in the Valle Grande, near the main entrance. That\u2019s where the agency will likely develop interpretive sites covering forest ecology, climate change, volcanic geology, and the history of Native peoples in the region. But Silva-Ba\u00f1uelos also hopes to develop additional trails for mountain bikers, hikers and horseback riders. His staff will complete a feasibility study for an 80-mile trail circling the caldera\u2019s rim, the longtime dream of local trails advocate Dorothy Hoard, who died before New Mexico Sens. Martin Heinrich and Tom Udall convinced Congress to transfer the preserve.<\/p>\n
To celebrate the transfer, Ribe and Schoustra went skiing just after the New Year. The snow was fresh, the weather mild, the preserve peaceful. They stopped in the visitors\u2019 center, and another skier came in. \u201cHis cheeks were all flushed, he ran over and said, \u2018That was exquisite!\u2019\u201d Schoustra says, flipping her poles in the air. \u201cWe just looked at each other and said, \u2018That\u2019s why.\u2019 \u201d<\/p>\n
Contributing editor Cally Carswell writes from Santa Fe, New Mexico.<\/p>\n
Valles Caldera National Preserve
\n Jemez Springs, New Mexico
\n 575-829-4100<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Caldera preserve added to park system after non-traditional experiment<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":106185,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5736,5735],"tags":[120,658,138,1982],"naviga_topic":[],"class_list":["post-106183","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-local-news","category-news","tag-colorado","tag-hiking","tag-new-mexico","tag-parks"],"acf":[],"author_name":"dh_admin","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106183","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=106183"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106183\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/106185"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=106183"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=106183"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=106183"},{"taxonomy":"naviga_topic","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dh.durangoherald.com\/tj\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/naviga_topic?post=106183"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}