Displacement by Motorized Vehicles in Alaska
While one concern of the Alaska Quiet Rights Coalition is conflict between non-motorized and motorized user groups on the state's public lands, a greater impact likely occurs due to displacement. Displacement happens when you lose access to an area that you used to or would like to enjoy because the quality of the experience has been degraded by motorized recreationists.
Here are a few accounts from people who have felt displaced:
DISPLACED BY SNOWMACHINES... AGAIN
by Cliff Eames
I don't have a single, dramatic story to tell of displacement by snowmachines. I've been displaced from a LOT of places and hardly know where to begin.
I started cross country skiing in Southcentral Alaska in 1977, first out of Anchorage; for the last three years I've lived in Kenny Lake (southeast of Glennallen), and now ski mostly in that area. To try to give some coherence to this narrative, I'll trace some of the areas I've effectively lost to winter recreation from south to north and then east.
Lots of people bemoan the extensive snowmachine use in the Lost Lake area which has stopped them from skiing or snowshoeing there. This is an especially spectacular spot, and it provides miles of beautiful wide-open alpine skiing. I've only been there a few times, but at this point I certainly don't intend to try to get there again and compete with the snowmachine traffic. Snowmachiners and the agencies don't seem willing to refute this and call Lost Lake a traditional snowmachine area. Of course the truly traditional winter recreational activity, long preceding snowmachining, is non-motorized.
I nearly forgot Carter-Crescent, which would have been ironic, since it was the focus of a major recent planning process. The Forest Service had first decided to manage it for non-motorized use, in effect returning it to its traditional use, but then reversed itself. It's no longer a very pleasant place to ski.
I used to ski the Johnson Pass Trail several times a year, including a late winter ski camping trip, but it too has been claimed by snowmachiners. For a while I could avoid much of the conflict by taking the side route up Center Creek, but eventually snowmachines went up there as well.
For several years I organized a late December trip into the Trout Lake cabin on the Resurrection Pass Trail with my fellow employees at the Alaska Center for the Environment (I was aware it was open to snowmachines at that time of year), but as the snowmachine traffic increased that tradition died.
It was a while before I discovered the possibilities in the Twenty Mile, but it too was soon motorized.
I used to ski up Eagle River from the visitor center now and then, but that too became a lot less pleasant as snowmachine use increased.
Peters Creek valley in Chugach State Park is incredibly beautiful, and I used to love skiing it. But it's open to snowmachines and it's now been many years since I've been there in the winter (I continued to hike the non-motorized summer trail when I lived in Anchorage). (It has always puzzled me that snowmachiners say they have nowhere to ride near Anchorage when approximately the same number of useable valleys in Chugach State Park are open to snowmachining as are closed to it.)
For several years running I did a two night late winter ski camping trip up Purinton Creek in the Talkeetnas, but that area also became too heavily snowmachined.
Some of the most fantastic open ski terrain in the region is along the Glenn Highway near Eureka. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I skied there a few times before machines took over. Now of course snowmachine tracks blanket the landscape as far as the eye can see. This area now competes with Petersville, Thompson Pass and Broad Pass for the title of Snowmachine Heaven, and I wouldn't consider going there.
A number of years ago a colleague who had recently moved to Alaska invited me to join him and his wife at a rented cabin at Nancy Lake. I knew what I was likely to be getting into, but accepted to get to know them better and to show that I appreciated their invitation. None of us enjoyed the signs and sounds of extensive snowmachine use that weekend.
Finally, I think there are at least two kinds of displacement. One is the kind described above; being, as a practical matter, driven away from places one formerly used and enjoyed (often passionately). The other, though, is not going to places you've never been but would love to get to and don't visit because you know from their reputation that skiing there would be a depressing experience. I've never skied in Broad Pass, or in many places along the Parks Highway north of Talkeetna, and I presume I never will until land managers decide to create some opportunities, through either space or time zoning, for high quality non-motorized recreation.
And now that I live in Kenny Lake and have driven to Valdez several times, I'd love to ski in Thompson Pass, one of the most spectacular road accessible spots in Southcentral Alaska. I haven't yet, and I don't know if I will (unless maybe I can get there in the beginning of the season before there's enough snow for it to be attractive for snowmachining).
This is a lengthy narrative (overly so, I know), but I suspect that the great majority of non-motorized recreationists also have many such stories to tell.
Cliff Eames
Kenny Lake, Alaska
April 26, 2007
WHERE HAVE ALL THE CANOES GONE?
by Stan Justice
Years ago one of the more popular interior floats was the Reindeer Hills section of the Nenana River. It was popular because it is high in the hills, has great views, and mellow water (class II). Plus it is road accessible via the Parks and Denali Highways. Then Denali Wilderness Jet Boat Safari, a jet boat tour company badgered the state into letting them operate on this section of the river, against noisy opposition from the paddling community. I keep paddling this section but don't see many other quiet craft anymore - and I may give it up myself. Spending all my time worrying about meeting the jet boats does not make for a relaxing trip.
Stopping and letting the quiet folks pass has become common practice by snowmachines and 4-wheelers. Unique to jet boats is they can't even slow down!!! The only way such large boats can travel on a small river like the upper Nenana is by being ON STEP, skimming along on the surface of the water. OFF STEP and they sink deep in the water, or onto the gravel if the water is not deep. This problem is worst while going downstream because they have to travel faster to stay up on step. The river has narrow section where there is no room for passing. Paddle boats need to be off the water.
The jet boats are very noisy so one would think it would be easy to hear them coming. But there are places where bluffs and dense forests block the sound or splashy rapids mask the noise. Several paddlers have stories of close calls. So where we once had a high quality river trip we now have a tourist thrill ride.
Stan Justice
Fairbanks, Alaska
A DISPLACEMENT STORY OVER THREE DECADES
by Libby Hatton
After a few miles on a homesteader's route, I broke trail through a silent forest of birch and spruce and over the muskeg until I reached Swan Lake. Then I traversed the expanse of glistening untracked snow over the lake and the swamp beyond. The Alaska Range loomed to the north as a backdrop to the peace and quiet of the wild lands below. The only sound was the swish of my skis and sled. As dusk came and I neared my cabin, an owl's hoot welcomed me back. It was early March 1976. I was 10 miles west of the Parks Highway as the raven flies and on a bluff overlooking the Tokositna River and Denali State Park. The Tokosha Mountains and Denali itself were framed in my picture window. This had been open to entry land and friends had built a cabin for me the year before. The nearest neighbor was more than a mile away. During my stay I saw otter, moose, marten, grizzly bear, porcupine, beaver, and a wolf and the tracks of many others. As spring came the air was full of returning bird sounds.
Jumping ahead to 1986, I now skied over cabin trails almost all the way to my own place. It was fun meeting the occasional dog team, skier, or cabin owner on a snowmachine hauling in supplies. We all knew each other and would always stop and visit in the middle of the trail. My days were divided between getting wood and exploring this wilderness on skis. Every turn of the river had new discoveries; eagles arriving at their snowcapped nest, moose browsing in the willows, an otter snow-boarding on her belly, trumpeter swans returning, fresh wolf tracks marking their trail. Skiing in the woods had similar joys; hidden ponds in their winter perfection, meadow snowscapes, unbroken views from hilltops. Occasionally I heard the sound of a dog team or a snowmachine and it was a welcome event: it meant that visitors had come for an afternoon or a day or a week.
Ten years more and the snow and the sounds are different. By 1996 the trail is icy and bumpy from speeding machines. People hauling supplies are having a miserable time. On a weekend day large groups of screaming machines whiz by. In Denali State Park, the river is bank to bank rutted snowmachine tracks and smells of hydrocarbons. It is no longer fun to be on it---or even safe. Bankings are carved from high marking, fewer animals are seen. In the woods and on the hills and over the muskeg, deep tracks cut up the landscape. I cherish the few places and times left where the sights and sounds of the natural winter landscape can be enjoyed.
2006.. The view remains but the sense of wilderness is gone. Bird song and wind whisper have been drowned out. Few animals are seen. The snow is rutted and ugly everywhere. Neighbors avoid going out on weekends or holidays. A few people skate ski on the showmachine highways but can't go for a peaceful woodsy ski or snowshoe jaunt.
May 2006, I sold the cabin, displaced to Anchorage, population greater than 260,000, where there is more natural quiet in the adjacent areas of Chugach State Park that are closed to snowmachines than there is in the very sparcely populated upper Susitna Valley. I don't know where the animals and birds were displaced to.
What happened over these 30 years? The population grew, the Wasilla and Anchorage snowmachiners "discovered" the area and Denali State Park has no restrictions on snowmachine use in that area, in spite of pleading by the majority of the local property owners at the time the management plan was reviewed. The director caved in to the loud demands of the motorhead minority. With no oversight or enforcement by the Department of Natural Resources or the Division of State Parks and Outdoor Recreation, there are also no speed limits, no restrictions to keep machines on trails, no prevention of animal harassment, and no protection of neighborhood transportation trails. In one generation, because of lack of regulation, the entire upper Susitna Valley has been lost to quiet living and recreation. Both wildlife and people are displaced.
The actual numbers of people who live and/or recreate in the area is not large. With designated snowmachine trails separate from neighborhood trails and with snowmachiners staying on trails, everyone could enjoy the outdoors and the magnificent scenery in their own way.
The original cabin owners formed a group that called themselves the Tokosha Citizens Council. Their main reason for forming was to protect the natural peace and quiet of the area and to retain the wilderness qualities. They proposed a road-free plan to the Mat-Su Borough but the Borough dragged its bureaucratic feet and nothing was done.
Winter is not the only season affected by the unregulated increase in motorized toys. In the spring and summer the air is full of noise from flightseeing trips to Denali. ATVs roam the landscape, destroying it as they go. Some of the little lakes now have jet skis screaming around in mindless circles.
I sold my cabin to a family with three children. Those kids will never know the same joys of winter wildlife discoveries in their own backyard or hear the spring arrive in a naturally quiet land.
It didn't have to be this way. If government agencies did long term planning with protection of natural resources like wildlife and natural quiet in mind, children could have inherited the same wonderland.
DEAR EDITOR
by Frank Keim
Well everybody, the Arctic Man weekend is over, and now it's time to reflect on what you accomplished.
To haul yourself and your snow machines to the Gulkana Glacier-Summit Lake area in your behemoth pickups and RVs, you spewed more than 3 million pounds of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.
Racing around in your highly inefficient mostly two cycle snow machines you probably spewed another million pounds of carbon dioxide into our once clear Alaskan skies.
Using your machines on the surface of an area that drains into that loveliest of Alaska Range lakes left scars of exhaust carbon and petroleum residues that when melted into surface water will cumulatively pollute Summit Lake, which is the spawning ground of many Copper River red salmon. Not to mention the Gulkana River which drains the lake and is the main route of travel of these fish.
Anadromous waters such as these are not supposed to be compromised by motorized vehicles. Four years ago when I mentioned this to the Dept. of Fish and Game they blew me off. Under Governor Palin, this could change, but I doubt it will because of the tremendous political influence of the snowmachine industry. I suspect Fish and Game hasn't even done a baseline study of the area to determine possible future scenarios for the red salmon that travel and spawn in these waters.
In the 1960s this region was my favorite hunting, hiking, mountain climbing and cross-country skiing country in Alaska. Where once all you heard was the sound of footsteps and gliding skis in the silent immensity of the mountains, now, at this time of year, all you hear is the roar of polluting snow machines.
Especially in a period of war and dramatically quickening climate change the Arctic Man seems to me to be a frivolous and hugely wasteful abuse of this area, and of the earth's air and climate in general. It should be halted. Of course, it won't be until the price of fuel goes up to about 10 dollars per gallon. Let's hope that happens sooner than later!
Frank Keim
DISPLACED BY A LACK OF RESPECT
by Brian Okonek
Change started incrementally, gained momentum and exploded. I can not deny that I was not part of the problem. Each of us has an impact. Our activity is relative to what was taking place in a given region before our arrival and to how many of us arrive. Problems can quickly compound with how we arrive and what kind of activities we participate in. Add a person's attitude and respect to their neighbors, the land and the wildlife in how they conduct themselves and the variety of ways a place will change become infinite.
The pattern of change in the region now called South Denali, a place I have a deep attachment to, have followed a familiar pattern. Major transportation arteries have been built, there have been land programs by the government for settlement, agencies at all levels actively promote visiting the area, huge tour companies bring their multitudes of customers here, many local business prosper on tourism and the place has a deserved reputation for beauty and recreational activities of all kinds. From being a sleepy backwater it has turned into a major destination. This is not the surprise. The irony is the lack of foresight and resolve to control an ever growing number of activities and users.
As snowmachine recreational riding increased on local trails it became too dangerous to run my dog team on the weekends. Fortunately there was little use on week days and I adjusted my schedule to use the trails at this quieter time. As time went on I grumbled at the bumpy trails created by increased use, cursed the multitude of tracks that cut up every opening erasing all feel of wildness and cried at all the black spruce trees broken down by senseless snowmobilers. Trails that I had put in and carefully taken care of for hauling supplies and training dogs became raceways. The view of the Alaska Range was still spectacular, but the foreground was marred, the peacefulness broken.
I would escape into the thickets on my skis to search out country uncut by snowmachine tracks hoping instead to intersect the track of a wolverine, a wolf, a moose, an otter or a Spring bear. I wondered how the increased motorized use was affecting the wildlife beyond the actual act of an unethical hunter running down a bear or a wolf with a powerful machine. Does anyone know how the noise, the tracks, the hydrocarbons, the constant interference of a multitude of riders is affecting wintering animals? Sound of a high speed snowmachine, the throttle constantly being punched, creates noise that carries far. No matter where I went it was becoming impossible to escape the noise.
Going to my cabin has became less a energizing retreat and more an irritant. Instead of being crossed by a ribbon of a trail the lakes and muskegs are now solidly packed by snowmachine use. Technology has advanced to the point that the snowmachines can go just about anywhere leaving few places to get away from their presence. With the number of people now participating in recreational snowmobile riding the area I have explored for most of my life is now overrun by machines. The family cabin holds lots of memories. I cherish those quieter days. I will continue to use the cabin, but not with the contentment that once engulfed me.
Brian Okonek Talkeetna, Alaska
April 2, 2007
Alaska Quiet Rights Coalition
