Stand Up That Mountain Reading in Asheville

There’s a history of taking advantage of people in Appalachia and a suspicion of outsiders with new ideas of what you should do with your land. Our lesson is that we found we share many of the same concerns of what you lose when land use changes so radically. We’ve discovered we have the same goals of people that have been here for generations. – Jay Leutze 

On Wednesday evening (June 27) I was in a standing room crowd at Malaprop’s Bookstore and Cafe in Asheville for readings by Jay Erskine Leutze from his book, Stand Up That Mountain about a group of mountain people who refuse to bow down to more powerful resource interests in the North Carolina high country. Leutze is a leader on the national stage of conservation and as demonstrated by the large, enthusiastic crowd an all-star in the western North Carolina conservation community.  Although he may look like a lawyer (blue oxford, reading glasses, khaki pants); Jay will remind you (he did twice at the event) that although he graduated with a law degree he is not a lawyer. After listening to him read a few pages, I think it’s safe to say that Jay is, above all, a very fine writer.

I first interviewed Jay for a story I was preparing for Wildlife in North Carolina magazine about the Yellow Mountain State Natural Area and the Greater Roan Highlands Landscape conservation project area. That story never appeared in print, so I thought I would attach a draft for folks here. Please read it to learn more about the private/public/non-profit conservation collaboration in the Roan Highlands. I will caution you that some of the information is dated since I wrote this months ago. A clip is below; or link here for the complete article: YellowMountain.

 

 

It’s easy to see why conservationists like Jay Leutze of Minneapolis, North Carolina can’t stop talking about the recently created Yellow Mountain State Natural Area in the Greater Roan Highlands in Avery and Mitchell counties.

At the moment, I’m trying to keep stride with the tall and lean trustee of the Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy (SAHC) while he marches over limbs and branches fractured from gnarled and lumpy sugar maples. The fallen appendages are a consequence of one of the fiercest winters in decades and the misshapen trees an accumulation of decades of volatile climate. All the while, Leutze is in full throttle identifying rare plants and explaining the unique ecology of northern tree species in the south, such as the sugar maple, with the gusto of an inventor on the verge of a breakthrough. Beyond the grove of hardwoods the forest abruptly ends and a stiff and steady April wind, unbroken by a grassy meadow, whips away my baseball cap. After a gradual incline the knob broadens and the view opens. We’re standing on the grassy bald of Big Yellow Mountain and from 5,500 feet the vista is unmatched and an evident reason for Leutze’s elation.

Our view from here is a window to a much larger area and inspired an ambitious effort to engage in one of the most substantial conservation projects in the Carolinas in decades by linking some of the state’s most threatened ecological communities. Though Big Yellow Mountain bald is not part of the Yellow Mountain State Natural Area (YMSNA) (it was acquired by the North Carolina Chapter of the Nature Conservancy in 1975 and managed jointly with SAHC as the 395 acre Big Yellow Mountain Preserve), both are within an area that land managers and conservationists refer to as the Greater Roan Highlands Landscape (GRHL). The roughly 65,000 acre GRHL project area encompasses a mosaic of private and public land holdings that includes one of the richest collections of biodiversity on the planet. In all, the area is home to 27 rare plant communities; 180 known bird species, several of which are rare breeding species, such as the threatened migratory golden wing warbler and the northern saw whet owl; as well as other unique fauna such as the federally endangered Carolina northern flying squirrel.

Yet, what sets this conservation project apart from others is, since 1974, more than 20,000 acres within the GRHL have been permanently protected through a collaborative effort of local residents, conservation groups, the US Forest Service, the NC Wildlife Commission, and now, the North Carolina State Park System. That achievement may be the derivative of an enlightened approach to land conservation that involves a concern not just for the longevity of the landscape, but for the continuity of the livelihoods of its residents. “There’s a history of taking advantage of people in Appalachia,” says Leutze. “There’s a suspicion of outsiders with new ideas of what you should do with your land.”

Hominy Creek, Asheville, NC

I’m super proud to report on this exciting conservation project right in my backyard in urban Asheville. Last year, a very dedicated group of individuals along with local organizations and government pulled together the resources to purchase the unique wedge of land along Hominy Creek. Homing Creek is a major watershed in the western portion of Buncombe County that drains into the French Broad River. The path along the creek will one day be added to the city/county greenway system and the land around it into a community park. Find out more at the website of the Friends of Hominy Creek Greenway.

The picture I snapped today shows some of the restoration work done by volunteers to remove invasive plants and open access to the stream.

 

Agenda 21

I’m pleased that the local press has called out the inanity of the Agenda 21 conspiracy theorists.

Here’s a clip from a newsletter published in January by Dan Eichenbaum, former District 11 congressional candidate –

Dr. Dan Eichenbaum condemns sustainable development.

The elimination of private property ownership in all forms is the cornerstone of Marxism and its plan for a one-world collectivist tyranny. Socialism, Communism, and the Marxist agenda are not dead. They did not disappear 20 years ago when the Berlin Wall fell and the Soviet Union disintegrated. Instead, Marxists realized that they could defeat us from the inside by destroying our moral integrity, the family unit, and using the environmental movement to destroy our industrial base.

Agenda 21 is the weapon Marxists have chosen to create a socialist, redistributive society. Under the guise of “sustainability”, America would lose her sovereignty to a one-world government run by self-appointed elitists, shielded by the banner of the United Nations. Confiscation of private property would force all human beings to live in prison-like high-rise cubicles in “smart” urban zones. All aspects of our lives would be closely monitored and strictly regimented.

Here a clip from a tongue and cheek op-ed from John Boyle of the Asheville Citizen-Times.

They’re coming to get you.

It’s hard to know exactly who “they” are at all times, but just remember: They’ve got their eye on you and your land, your possessions, your way of life, maybe even, I don’t know, your champion goat or your prized stamp collection.

Sorry for the sarcasm, but it’s hard not to indulge in a little during the silly season of politics when the extremists emerge to sow seeds of paranoia — and politicians play to those fears.

The latest inanity to take hold is the “Agenda 21” conspiracy theorists who believe the United Nations is coming after your land via code words such as “sustainability.”

Interview with Kathy Newfont, author of Blue Ridge Commons

A few weeks ago I sat down with Kathryn Newfont over a cup of tea to discuss her book about the forest history of western North Carolina: Blue Ridge Commons – Environmental Activism and Forest History in Western North Carolina (University of Georgia Press).  Newfont is an Associate Professor of History & Faculty Chair of the Ramsey Center for Regional Studies at Mars Hill College.

Observing her rural neighborhood on the North Carolina Piedmont develop into a suburb inspired her interest in the history of using and protecting open spaces and wilderness. “Watching rural Guilford County succumb to the bulldozer revolution was part of what propelled me toward this work,” says Newfont. “I really want to understand how we save our shared landscape. Forest issues of any kind get such a variety of perspectives; it’s hotly contested terrain.”

While working on her dissertation at the University of North Carolina – Chapel Hill, Newfont conducted a series of interviews for the Southern Oral History Program with female environmentalists from North Carolina. One of them was with Esther Cunningham of Macon County who founded the WNC Alliance in 1982, one of the most effective conservation organizations in the region. It was that interview that ultimately led to her effort to write the book.

Here are a few clips from the interview. I’ll include more of her comments in an article I’m working on to be published in AT Journeys magazine in September.

Tell me about your interview with Esther Cunningham?

I found all these women I interviewed inspiring, but Esther’s interview stood out. After doing the interview with her it was clear to me that her view of protecting forests was not a wilderness perspective.  I was trying to understand why her perspective on the forest was different.  She was arguing that people had a commons relationship with the forest. In the Southern Appalachians there were commons systems; shared harvest grounds for fishing, gathering, grazing.  Those have always existed throughout human history in this area. The key thing to me was the idea of the commons. And so that interview launched an exploration that has led me places that I wouldn’t have anticipated. I’ve since given a name to the perspective she and many other forest activists shared: “commons environmentalism”.

How was Cunningham’s approach different that a more mainstream conservation perspective?

She was coming at it from a harvest relationship which is very different from the more recreational wilderness inspired relationship.  We tend to look at protecting forests through a traditional wilderness lens which tends to dismiss Appalachian people. If you look at conservation through a wilderness lens colored by Appalachian stereotypes it’s easy to say mountain people don’t know what they want; that they hate wilderness. But looking at it through a commons lens makes sense – if they see a threat to the commons they fight. Once I understood her perspective, it had a lot of explanatory power of the politics of the national forests and public lands in the Blue Ridge.

What made the acquisition of public land unique in the east?

The problem with providing public land in the East was that the government didn’t own land; out West it already owned the land. Here, the question was how do you reacquire it. You can either draw a circle on a map and condemn it and say this is the park, such as the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Or, you can draw a line around the land you want and acquire it from willing sellers. That was the approach to create national forests in North Carolina. Still there’s resentment towards the US Forest Service. There had been horrific abuses to the land before the FS arrived. Timber and coal interests took advantage of the title mess. A lot of them leveraged legal expertise and political connections in contests with local land owners. The worst of them stole land.  So there was a sense of enclosure before the FS came in. A sense of being robbed.

You discuss in your book the impact of the 1976 National Forest Management Act (NFMA). What impact did it have in Western North Carolina?

The NFMA gave people a serious say in forest management.  The NFMA may have been bad for the ecology initially, but over the long haul it enabled participation of citizen voices and citizen scientists and activists that has been good for the forest.  It was a breakthrough of the technocratic – father knows best philosophy – that did not take into account many of the concerns. The southern Appalachians are a treasure trove of bio diversity. That is part of why managing the forest here is so complex. We just don’t understand all of it.

There is resistance to a $4 fee and reservations for backcountry camping permits in the GSMNP. Why is there resistance for such a small amount?

In this part of the world use of the commons traditionally came without a fee. A fee is seen as restricting access. If something is seen as threatening access you get resistance from commons users. It’s symbolic since there is still a sense in western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee of being betrayed. Many families were displaced to make way for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. They lost their livelihood in the teeth of the depression. One of my students did his senior thesis on his family’s roots in the park. One family member he interviewed still remembers the family place; it is a living memory. Against that backdrop, the sense of resentment and skittishness of new initiatives is understandable. Not until the 75th anniversary of the founding of the GSMNP did the federal government recognize the local sacrifices[in a speech given by the Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar].

Cunningham passed away last year. What’s her legacy?

Not only was she an effective forest advocate herself, but she had been a mentor to several other important advocates.  What kept me focused on this project was to help people understand how fortunate we are to have so much forest land and public ownership. I felt inspired to take up the torch of people, such as Cunningham, who have come before to establish and protect national forests and parks.  The book is in many ways a tribute to their leadership.  Now it’s our turn.

Commons expert Elinor Ostrom, winner of Nobel in Economics, Dies at 78

Elinor Ostrom contributed a great deal to understanding common resources. She passed away earlier this week.

Professor Ostrom’s work rebutted fundamental economic beliefs. But to say she was a dark horse for the 2009 economics Nobel is an understatement. Not because she was a woman — although women in the field are still rare — but because she was trained in political science.

Professor Ostrom’s prizewinning work examined how people collaborate and organize themselves to manage common resources like forests or fisheries, even when governments are not involved. The research overturned the conventional wisdom about the need for government regulation of public resources. – NY TIMES

Learn a bit more about her work at Planet Money.

Bob Miller – Spokesperson – GSMNP

I just picked up the phone to contact Bob Miller at the GSMNP to comment on an article I’m writing. As it turns out – Bob just retired earlier this month. Miller was a real pro from my perspective. I interviewed him numerous times and always found him to be quite helpful and enjoyable to talk with. Good luck Bob in your retirement. Thanks for your service to the Park. Below is an article from knoxnews.com:

 

Bob Miller first visited Great Smoky Mountains National Park in 1984 while on vacation. Until then, his only exposure to mountains was viewing the snow-capped peaks of Switzerland, which he’d seen while serving in the Army during the Vietnam War.

At first, the relatively modest scale of the Southern Appalachians left Miller unimpressed. Over time, however, he began to appreciate that the park’s calling card — its rich biodiversity and its equally rich human history stretching from the Cherokees to the Scotch-Irish pioneers.

“I wasn’t immediately enthralled with the Smokies,” Miller said. “It took me awhile to realize that the beauty of this place lies in the details.”

Technically, Miller’s job title is “management assistant” for Great Smoky Mountains National Park, but to members of the media and local community leaders, he’s the Voice of the Smokies.

On June 1, Miller retires as park spokesman after 23 years. During his career he served under five superintendents: Randy Pope, Phil Francis, Karen Wade, Mike Tollefson, and his current boss, Dale Ditmanson.

“Bob’s level of skill and integrity is perhaps unmatched anywhere in the park system,” Ditmanson said. “People call this park to know what’s going on; and, with Bob, they know they’re going to get a straight answer.

“He can talk about anything,” Ditmanson said. “It’s going to take awhile for people to stop calling this office asking for Bob Miller.”

Miller, 61, grew up in Ironwood, Mich., a mining town about 18 miles south of Lake Superior. In 1974, after serving in the Army, he landed a temporary post with the National Park Service’s public affairs office of special events in Washington D.C. He was 25, and his duties included organizing the cherry blossom festivities and lighting the White House Christmas tree.

“I was a flunkie running errands, but Washington was a vibrant place to live — a very green and livable city at the time,” Miller recalled.

For the next 12 years Miller worked a variety of administrative and interpretive jobs for the National Park Service in Washington D.C. He managed Ford’s Theatre, where President Lincoln was assassinated, and he gained valuable experience managing crowds for special events such as the American Folklife Festival held on the National Mall.

In 1986 Miller moved to Maine to work at Acadia National Park. Three years later he was ready for a change. In November 1989, just around Thanksgiving, he and his wife, Elaine, moved to the Smokies.

Miller had to hit the ground running. The park’s hog eradication program was in full swing, and an experimental reintroduction of red wolves was pending. Invasive-exotic plants were being targeted as a serious threat, and the park was due to make a decision on the proposed “Road to Nowhere” — a controversial road building project on the north shore of Fontana Lake — and the future of the Elkmont cabins.

As the park’s new public information officer, it was Miller’s job to educate the public and handle the information flow. In addition, he spent 15 years working public information at wildfire and hurricane sites as a member of the National Park Service’s incident management team.

Here’s a link to a short hike write-up in this month’s WNC Magazine.

Blackrock Mountain, East Fork Trail

Round-Trip: 8.6 miles Difficulty: Strenuous

Written By:

Jack Igelman

Cresting a few stories shy of 6,000 feet, the rugged peak of Blackrock Mountain is a relatively unsung summit amid the loftier knobs of the Plott Balsam Range in Jackson County. But the 3,000-foot climb rewards with an unobstructed panorama that includes an all-star lineup of peaks spanning from Clingmans Dome in the Smokies to Mount Pisgah.

From the lot at Pinnacle Park near Sylva, begin up the rocky, well-marked trail, following purple and yellow blazes—the school colors of Western Carolina University, whose students maintain the path. Sidestep the well-worn route to Pinnacle Peak by turning right in a half mile onto East Fork Trail, which steeply climbs a wooded ravine. In two miles, meet the West Fork Trail and head right. The path winds for a mile, then ascends a steep, 0.6-mile path on a forested ridge. Follow the western edge of the Nature Conservancy’s Plott Balsam Preserve to reach the two craggy knobs of Blackrock Mountain, so named, presumably, for the dark mosaic of lichens and moss that cover the rocks.

Stand Up That Mountain

Jay Leutze will be at Malaprop’s on June 27th in Asheville to discuss his recently published book: Stand Up That Mountain

Here’s a link and clip of a review from the Charlotte Observer.

Two years after Jay Leutze earned his law degree from UNC Chapel Hill in 1990, he made a decision. Rather than pursue a hectic career in the city, Leutze packed his bags and moved into his family’s summer cabin in Western North Carolina’s remote Appalachians. Leutze spent eight years hiking, fishing and writing. His life of quiet deliberation came to an end when he got a call from a 14-year-old neighbor, Ashley Cook, and her aunt Ollie. A mining company had set up shop behind their house and was planning to “tear down the mountain.” Leutze was the only lawyer around. Was the mining operation legal? Could it be stopped? Would Leutze help?

Jay Leutze (photo – Jack Igelman)