Green Legacy
Americans are committing country-cide. Our land-wasting development habits are taking the farms that give us fresh, locally-grown food and converting them to super-sized yards planted with chemical-dependent, inedible grass. We are channeling our streams and paving the watersheds that once protected our water supplies free of charge. We are destroying the hillsides and forests that give us refuge from everyday life as well as preserve habitat for endangered species, which could include Homo sapiens sooner than we think. Many of us accept this wastefulness as an inevitable byproduct of progress. This book is about those who do not.
For the last ten years, I have traveled to communities throughout the nation that excel at saving their natural areas, farmland and rural character. At each stop, I hiked, took photographs, heard success stories and learned about local conservation heroes. This book assembles thumbnail sketches of the conservation efforts in 42 of these communities. These profiles are not intended as a formal study but rather as a celebration of all cities, towns and counties that are leaving future generations a green legacy.
This book alone offers inadequate appreciation of communities that succeed with preservation. Conservation awards are currently given by various organizations, including the Trust for Public Land and National Association of Counties. These awards are helpful but limited because they recognize only a small number of communities in any given year. I hope for the future creation of a national award program that will give recognition to a large number of communities for achieving conservation standards year after year. Similar to the Tree City USA awards from the Arbor Day Foundation, I picture a program in which communities can verify that they meet pre-established preservation milestones. Communities that meet these criteria could then brag a bit by posting “award-winner” signs at their major entrances announcing that they hold a gold, silver or bronze medal in open space preservation. It is not too far-fetched to predict that these signs could ultimately be seen by millions of people every day based on the fact that 120 million people currently live in the 3,310 Tree City USA communities nationwide.
It’s true that preservation is its own best reward. But, in my opinion, the national recognition program envisioned here would greatly benefit conservation in the future. In the award-winning communities, the entrance signs would offer daily positive feedback for elected officials, voters, taxpayers and everyday citizens. This ongoing recognition should motivate these communities to maintain their support for preservation and possibly increase their conservation efforts. The program could also promote preservation in other communities since many visitors will see the entry signs and hopefully be inspired to start or revive conservation programs in their home towns.
When a community wants preservation, it finds a way to make it happen. I arrived at that conclusion after working with dozens of communities on transfer of development rights programs over the last decade. Where people want a preservation program to work, it does. Consequently, the type of ongoing award program described above would be worth the effort even if it generates only a modest increase in demand for land preservation.
The 42 communities in this book were selected primarily based on their reputations as either established icons or rising stars in open space preservation. They were not chosen to illustrate anything other than accomplishment. Nevertheless, this introduction provides an opportunity to highlight three preservation issues that emerge from the 42 community profiles that constitute the rest of this book: responsibility, creativity and leadership.
Responsibility
The communities profiled in this book take responsibility for preserving their natural areas, farmland and other open space resources. They know they can’t look the other way because open space is disappearing and may not be around for future generations to save. They also realize that it is not easy to conserve land. It takes money or at least political capital. It may require some sacrifice. Nevertheless, while others procrastinate, these communities step up to the plate.
For some of the 42 communities profiled here, the sense of urgency is more acute because the window of opportunity for open space preservation is rapidly closing. As a prime example, New Jersey loses over 15,000 acres of farmland, forests and other open space to development every year. At that rate, experts predict that every square inch of developable land in the state that is not permanently preserved will in fact be developed within 30 to 50 years. Not surprisingly, the State of New Jersey, its local jurisdictions and its citizens realize that time is running out. Starting in 1961, the voters approved state-wide open space bond measures ten times. Roughly one fifth of the state is now publicly-owned or deed-restricted and another twenty percent has been targeted for preservation as part of a “Million Acre Conservation Goal.”
Burlington County, New Jersey illustrates how one local jurisdiction is fighting the last battle for the Garden State. The southern two-thirds of Burlington County are within the ecologically-sensitive New Jersey Pinelands and largely preserved in public parks and state forests. Notwithstanding this success, in 1985, Burlington County adopted the first farmland preservation program in New Jersey, which has already protected almost 50,000 acres of farmland despite its highly-desirable location between Philadelphia and New York City. In addition, most of the townships in Burlington County have individually adopted special land preservation taxes to supplement the state and county programs.
Suffolk County, New York, at the eastern end of Long Island, is another obvious setting for a sprawl showdown, lying only 50 miles east of New York City. Following the Regional Planning Association’s aptly-titled 1960 plan, The Race for Open Space, Suffolk County significantly expanded its County park system and instituted the nation’s first municipal farmland purchase of development rights program in 1974. In total, Suffolk County has spent over $518 million on preservation and has committed to spending another $595 million in revenues from a dedicated sales tax reauthorized by the voters in 2007. That same year, the President of the Regional Plan Association declared that the struggle for open space on Long Island is in an “end game”. “You no longer need to be a visionary to see that we’re approaching the end of the road – literally… Our actions in the next few years will determine whether the Island’s remaining open space, natural area and countryside are permanently protected or irrevocably destroyed.” The Nature Conservancy is leading a campaign known as “Long Island’s Last Stand”, which aims to preserve an additional 25,000 acres of open space and 10,000 acres of farmland before final build-out, projected to occur by 2015. That’s a tall order, particularly considering the current state of the economy. But Suffolk County has repeatedly demonstrated that it will fight to keep the far end of Long Island from becoming just another paradise paved.
In other communities, open space preservation predates the age of sprawl. Luckily, many of these communities realized the advantages of securing open space earlier rather than later. Some of these communities were fortunate to have planners and public officials who not only believed in preservation but were willing and able to articulate that belief. Landscape architect Horace Cleveland was not shy about his goal for the Minneapolis Park System: “I would have the City itself a work of art.” Luckily, Minneapolis did not settle for just an ambitious plan and some great rhetoric. In 1883, the voters approved a referendum to create a board of park commissioners independent of city government with the power to issue bonds and levy taxes. Horace Cleveland explained to voters why Minneapolis should concern itself with parkland acquisition in 1883, long before open space preservation was a household word: “Look forward for a century, to the time when the city has a population of a million, and think what will be their wants. They will have wealth enough to purchase all that money can buy, but all their wealth cannot purchase a lost opportunity, or restore natural features of grandeur and beauty, which would then possess priceless value…” The combination of vision and commitment paid off in the Minneapolis Grand Rounds, a park system that links parks and parkways in a 50-mile loop that wins praise from open space connoisseurs including historian William Tisher, who calls the Minneapolis Park System “…perhaps America’s finest urban open space network.”
Like many plans by Frederick Law Olmstead, Jr., the 1908 plan for the City of Boulder, Colorado emphasized open space preservation, in this case calling for the creation of vast parklands in the surrounding foothills and mountains. This ambitious plan was not just put on the shelf. In 1967, a citizens’ organization used the Olmstead Plan in a successful campaign approving a local sales tax dedicated to open space preservation, the first of its kind in the country. In addition to the Olmstead Plan, open space advocates used a highly-effective poster of children frolicking in the Chautauqua Meadows in front of the Flatirons, the iconic, red sandstone cliffs that form the backdrop for Boulder. Today, the City of Boulder’s Open Space & Mountain Parks protect over 45,000 acres and offer 130 miles of trails. In surrounding Boulder County, over 100,000 additional acres are preserved by parks, public easements and private environmental organizations. With this encircling greenbelt, Boulder sometimes feels like a city tucked into a national park. In short, Boulder has amazingly brought much of Olmstead’s original vision to life.
Creativity
The communities profiled in this book exemplify the old adage “where there’s a will there’s a way.” They may begin their preservation programs using relatively simple land protection techniques financed by traditional sources like property taxes. But many also find that they cannot achieve all their preservation goals without creative solutions such as real estate transfer taxes, assessment districts and techniques that don’t require taxation at all, including transfer of development rights. As detailed in the following profiles, many of these communities were the inventors and pioneers of preservation techniques that are commonly used today.
In 1958, the City of Lexington and Fayette County, Kentucky cooperated on the establishment of the first urban growth boundary in the United States. In 1999, the consolidated city-county government changed rural zoning to one unit per forty acres and, in 2000, launched Kentucky’s first local farmland purchase of development rights (PDR) program. As a result, Lexington-Fayette County is well on is way to protecting its goal of 50,000 acres of farmland. In the process, Lexington-Fayette County is preserving a thriving agricultural economy and an even stronger tourism industry, which largely relies on horse farms, horse races and anything else related to horses. This effort is also protecting a critical portion of the unique Bluegrass Cultural Landscape, listed in 2006 by the World Monument Fund as one of the 100 most endangered sites on earth.
In PDR programs, tax money is raised, typically by taxes, and used to buy easements from willing landowners. Once the funding has been completely used, a PDR program must wait for additional revenue. Despite this funding limitation, some programs have been able to preserve a remarkable amount of land. In 2000, the voters of Gallatin County, Montana authorized issuance of bonds to acquire development restrictions on ranchland. Thanks to the generosity of landowners and skillful leveraging, $12 million of bond funding has preserved almost 30,000 acres already. Various organizations supplement that effort, including the Montana Land Reliance, Gallatin Valley Land Trust and The Nature Conservancy, which hold easements on large portions of Gallatin County including part of the mammoth Flying D Ranch, where its owner, billionaire Ted Turner, raises bison.
In preservation programs as in life, timing can be everything. In 1970, a federal act allowed Maricopa County, Arizona to buy parkland from the Bureau of Land Management for $2.50 an acre! Today, Maricopa County owns 120,000 acres of parkland, making it the largest county park system in the United States. The City of Phoenix itself offers another 30,000 acres in its desert preserves including 16,000-acre South Mountain Park, the largest city park in the nation. Despite this impressive acreage, the voters of Phoenix and Maricopa County continue to approve further land preservation using bonds and sales taxes dedicated exclusively to protecting additional portions of the Sonoran Desert.
Clark County is one of twelve counties in the State of Washington to adopt a Conservation Futures Program, which dedicates a portion of property tax revenues exclusively for acquisition of farms, forests, recreational land and other open space. Clark County has targeted much of this funding to preserving areas that serve to increase recreational opportunities while protecting the habitat of threatened species, particularly endangered salmon. In some of these places, the recreational component consists of hiking beside sanctuary streams and watching salmon leap up waterfalls as they migrate upstream to spawn.
In 1912, the voters of the City of Denver agreed to tax themselves to preserve forests, streams and spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery in a system of parks that now includes over 14,000 acres. However, the Denver Mountain Parks are not located in Denver. In the nation’s first example of extra-territorial preservation, 10,271 acres of the Denver Mountain Parks system can be found in adjoining Jefferson County with the remainder in three other counties even further west of the Mile-High City. In fact, the Mountain Parks plan required the Colorado legislature and the U.S. Congress to pass laws allowing Denver to acquire parkland beyond its boundaries. In keeping with this tradition of strong public support for preservation, the voters of Jefferson County similarly approved an open space tax that so far has preserved another 51,000 acres and created one of the best open space systems in the country.
In some communities, land acquisition is only the first step in a more complicated preservation strategy. In 1982, Albuquerque, New Mexico purchased the 8,000-acre Elena Gallegos land grant in the Sandia Mountains using a voter-approved, three-year, quarter-cent sales tax. Rather than stopping there, the City traded most of the Gallegos land to the U.S. Forest Service for expansion of the Cibola National Forest and in return received federal surplus properties. Proceeds from the sale of these surplus properties were placed in a permanent trust fund dedicated exclusively to open space management. In addition to saving the Sandia foothills, Albuquerque and surrounding Bernalillo County have had other successes including preservation of Petroglyph National Monument, the forested lands in the floodplain of the Rio Grande River and the prehistoric volcano cones that overlook the city from the top of West Mesa.
Some open space programs find entrepreneurial opportunities to supplement their PDR funding. Santa Clara County, California has acquired 141,000 acres in parks and preserves including the historic Picchetti Ranch, which it leases to the Sunrise Winery, allowing visitors to enjoy a wine tasting after sampling the trails. Similarly, a private non-profit organization, the Nantucket Conservation Foundation, became the proud owner of the 275-acre Milestone Cranberry Bog, once the largest continuously operating cranberry bog on earth. By maintaining production, the Foundation not only kept the cranberry industry alive in Nantucket, Massachusetts, but also used the proceeds to fund a portion of its other preservation work. Today, the Nantucket Conservation Foundation owns 8,700 acres of open space, over 29 percent of this island’s total land area.
Many communities have trouble achieving all of their land preservation goals using only simple land acquisition and PDR mechanisms. That’s because traditional acquisition retires development rights and requires more infusions of tax revenues before additional purchases can be made. Most communities have limited preservation funding and, consequently, some turn to transfer of development rights. With TDR, transferable development rights, or TDRs, are severed from the preserved property and sold to developers who use them to gain additional development potential, typically bonus residential density, in places appropriate for growth and in accordance with the community’s TDR ordinance. Proceeds from the sale of TDRs compensate landowners for preserving their land. Increased profits from the additional development potential available through TDR motivate developers to buy TDRs, thereby financing the preservation of places that are important to the community. Many of the communities profiled in this book are TDR pioneers.
Montgomery County, Maryland, which includes the northern suburbs of Washington, D.C., experienced alarming losses of farmland to sprawl prior to 1980. In response, Montgomery County designated 93,000 acres as an Agricultural Reserve and reduced the maximum residential density in this reserve to support the goal of farmland preservation. When developers buy TDRs, they are allowed a specified increase in maximum density in places where development is wanted in return for preserving farmland within the Agricultural Reserve. To date, Montgomery County’s TDR program has preserved almost 52,000 acres of farmland. Using TDR and four separate PDR programs, Montgomery County has preserved over 70,000 acres of farmland, making it one of the most successful local farmland preservation programs in the country. Combined with 34,000 acres of parkland, roughly one third of the County’s land area is permanently preserved, a remarkable achievement given its location within the Washington metropolitan region.
County TDR programs tend to preserve more land than township TDR programs for the simple reason that counties have more land area. Nevertheless, townships can be ideal venues for TDR since the residents of the areas receiving the transferred development rights are never far from the places preserved by these transfers. In Chester County, Pennsylvania, only 25 miles west of Philadelphia, TDR is used by ten individual townships, the greatest number of any county in the United States. In addition to TDR, 27 of Chester County’s townships have approved land conservation taxes and bonds. Together with county, state and federal programs, Chester County has preserved over 52,000 acres of farmland, making it one of the top local farmland preservation programs in the nation.
In some of the communities recognized in this book, land preservation is required as part of a formal Habitat Conservation Plan (HCP) for endangered species. HCPs allow development to alter habitat within prescribed limits with the understanding that implementation of the HCP as a whole will preserve sufficient habitat to assure the recovery of threatened species. San Diego County, California mixes a population of three million people with the greatest biological diversity in the nation. As a result, over 200 species here are listed as rare, threatened or endangered. In 1997, San Diego County adopted the South County Multiple Species Conservation Program (MSCP) in which federal, state, county and city agencies commit to preserve a total reserve of roughly 100,000 acres. Of that goal, over 65,000 acres of permanent reserve have already been assembled, often using existing refuges, parks and preserves. Passive outdoor recreation is allowed in many of these preserves, thereby providing refuge for beleaguered humans as well as other endangered species.
Similarly, Riverside County, California adopted the Western Riverside County Multiple Species Habitat Conservation Plan in 2003 to preserve the habitat of 146 species including 32 listed species. The MSHCP aims to ultimately conserve 500,000 acres, including 347,000 acres already in public or quasi-public ownership when the MSHCP was adopted. Acquisition of the remaining 153,000 acres is expected to cost $1 billion. Since adoption of the Plan, another 32,322 acres have been acquired, leaving a balance of roughly 120,000 acres. The Plan is steadily working toward that goal through a creative mix of various preservation techniques including development fees, density bonus charges, infrastructure mitigation requirements and landfill tipping fees.
Still other communities in this book are recognized for restoring as well as preserving open space in general and wildlife habitat in particular. In Orange County, California, the Bolsa Chica tidal wetlands were cut off from the Pacific Ocean in 1900 by a hunting club and then further damaged by decades of cattle grazing, military installations, oil facilities and other unnatural acts. The tide turned when local environmental groups worked with the State of California to buy and revive this once-abundant marsh. Wetland restoration culminated in 2006, when the connection to the Pacific was reestablished and salt water once again flowed in and out. Today, Bolsa Chica has regained its status as a critical stop for migratory birds on the Pacific Flyway and has become a popular destination for school field trips as well as dedicated birders.
Many of the communities in this book recognize that no single preservation tool can achieve all of their conservation goals. Consequently, these communities combine techniques, often in highly innovative ways.
King County, like twelve other counties in the State of Washington, uses a Conservation Futures Tax that dedicates a portion of property tax exclusively to open space preservation. Rather than simply acquiring easements or land with that money, King County buys transferable development rights, holds these rights in a TDR bank and sells them to developers who want the extra development potential available only though the King County TDR program and similar programs adopted by the City of Seattle and two other cities in King County. Proceeds from the sale of TDRs can be re-invested in additional preservation projects, creating an ongoing revolving fund for preservation. This combination of the Conservation Futures Fund and TDR resulted in the preservation of the 91,000-acre Snoqualmie Forest and gained King County its title as the most successful TDR program in the United States, with 138,000 acres preserved to date. The combined efforts of governmental agencies and private conservation groups have saved almost half of King County’s total land area so far.
Like King County, Palm Beach County, Florida uses TDR creatively to turn a voter-approved bond measure from a single-event acquisition mechanism into a perpetual source of preservation funding. Specifically, the County used a $100-million bond to buy 35,000 acres of environmentally-significant land for its Natural Areas Program. It then severed 9,000 TDRs from this land and sells these TDRs to developers who need them to achieve higher densities within the County’s TDR program. If all 9,000 TDRs were sold for the 2007 sales price of $25,000 each, the County would recoup $225-million from its $100-million bond.
In 2007, the Farmland Preservation Report declared that Lancaster County, Pennsylvania had preserved a total of 72,831 acres of farmland, making it the most successful locally-operated farmland preservation program in the United States. This accomplishment was achieved by a combination of PDR, TDR and a highly-effective private land trust. Lancaster County’s Agricultural Preservation Program combines county taxes with Pennsylvania’s PDR program to preserve 54,000 acres. The Lancaster Farmland Trust has cooperative arrangements with the County and township preservation programs that have resulted in the deed restriction of another 15,000 acres to date. Lancaster County’s townships also use TDR, including Warwick Township, which allows developers to use development rights from preserved farmland to achieve greater land coverage in its industrial zone.
Larimer County, Colorado, 40 miles north of Denver, has become a preservation leader using multiple tools including PDR, TDR and a user-friendly form of conservation development. In its first decade, a quarter-cent sales tax preserved over 40,000 acres of land. A TDR program cooperatively developed by the County and the City of Fort Collins succeeded in preserving open space surrounding the Fossil Creek Reservoir. In addition, Larimer County has preserved another 12,000 acres with its Rural Land Use Process which allows ranchland owners fast-tracked approval of individually-negotiated development plans when they preserve at least two thirds of their land.
Leadership
The communities profiled in this book demonstrate that leadership comes in all shapes and sizes. Successful programs have been led by individuals and fledging groups as well as international organizations and agencies of the federal government. Some of the communities in this book are populous counties with large tax bases to tap. But leadership examples also come from relatively small counties and even townships where preservation success is particularly dependent on public-private partnerships, skillful leveraging of limited funding and the generosity of landowners who want their land to be preserved in perpetuity.
Captain Rob Lewis is widely credited with getting the preservation ball rolling on Block Island, the tiny, bicycle-friendly island 15 miles off the coast of Rhode Island. By 1972, it seemed likely that development would subdivide this little jewel beyond recognition. But 54-year-old Lewis, after a career as a captain in the merchant marine, assembled some like-minded islanders and formed the Block Island Conservancy. Within two years, the Conservancy and the Town Council created the island’s first preserve, Rodman’s Hollow. Many additional successes were made possible through collaborations of the Conservancy and the Town with the Audubon Society, the State of Rhode Island, the federal government, private foundations and, in particular, The Nature Conservancy, which named Block Island as one of the twelve “Last Great Places” in the Western Hemisphere and spent over $44 million to help save it. Today, 43 percent of Block Island is preserved thanks to a team effort initially sparked by a single individual.
In 1933, Rosalie Edge, a New York City birdwatcher and conservation crusader, saw Richard Pough’s photographs of hawks shot for sport during their fall migration over Blue Mountain in northern Berks County, Pennsylvania. Rather than accept that annual slaughter as inevitable, she cobbled together the money in the depths of the Great Depression to buy the land that ultimately became the Hawk Mountain Sanctuary, the world’s first refuge for birds of prey. Since then, Berks County has distinguished itself in agricultural preservation, permanently protecting over 52,000 acres and earning recognition in 2007 as having the third most successful locally-operated farmland preservation program in the United States.
J.N. “Ding” Darling was a world-famous editorial cartoonist and founder of the National Wildlife Federation who spent his winters enjoying the natural wonders of Sanibel Island, a barrier island west of Fort Myers in Lee County, Florida. In 1945, Darling initiated Sanibel’s rise as a preservation superstar by advocating the creation of what is now the 6,400-acre D.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge. After Darling’s death, his friends formed an organization that was initially called the Ding Darling Memorial Committee but ultimately became the Sanibel Captiva Conservation Foundation, which now manages 89 preserves throughout the island. Today, almost two-thirds of Sanibel Island is permanently protected thanks to the efforts of countless governmental agencies and private organizations as well as a man who was willing to lend his affability, fame and connections to the cause of conservation.
National conservation organizations have been major players in many of the preservation successes profiled in this book. In 1954, the National Audubon Society joined with committed individuals and cooperative landowners to permanently save the Corkscrew Swamp, which includes the last remaining stand of virgin bald cypress trees as well as the largest rookery of wood storks and egrets in the U.S. In addition to Audubon’s 13,000-acre Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary, Collier County is home to several mammoth state and federal parks and preserves including the 26,400-acre Florida Panther National Wildlife Refuge, the 80,000-acre Fakahatchee Strand State Preserve, (famous as the orchid and bromeliad capital of North America), and the Picayune Strand State Forest, created from the ruins of an infamous “swampland in Florida” development scheme. To date, the combined efforts of governments, the voting public and conservation organizations like the Audubon Society have saved an amazing 80 percent of Collier County.
The Nature Conservancy considers islands to be nature’s “canary in the coal mine” because they shelter high concentrations of endangered species and exhibit ecological threats long before they appear elsewhere on earth. The Nature Conservancy has been particularly concerned about Martha’s Vineyard, the island just off the coast of Cape Cod in Massachusetts. Martha’s Vineyard contains some of the best remaining examples of the coastal sand-plain ecosystem, which has become extremely rare worldwide. The Nature Conservancy, four other private conservation organizations and various governmental agencies have together preserved roughly 34 percent of the island, which is a stunning achievement considering that this island is highly attractive to vacationers and retirees as well as wildlife.
The Trust for Public Land, or TPL, supports local efforts to preserve important cultural and historic sites as well as natural places. That made TPL an ideal partner when the voters of Santa Fe County, New Mexico approved the funding for their Open Space and Trails Program. In one of the program’s first projects, TPL and Santa Fe County preserved a pasture that serves as the backdrop for the Santuario de Chimayo, a world-famous adobe chapel built between 1813 and 1816 which is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. TPL also facilitated the expansion of the La Cienega Area of Critical Concern, a unit of the Federal Bureau of Land Management which includes rock art from the 14th century and a portion of the historic El Camino Real as well as springs and wetlands within the Santa Fe River Canyon. In addition, the portion of the Bandelier National Monument within Santa Fe County contains hiking trails where visitors who don’t mind climbing ladders can view petroglyphs, ancient cave dwellings and ruins of the Ancestral Pueblo village of Tsankawi. These successes all illustrate Santa Fe County’s philosophy of using history and culture to “…transform physical spaces into meaningful places.”
In 1982, the Sierra Club joined with the Audubon Society, Wildlife Rescue and other environmental organizations in a campaign that succeeded in creating and funding the Nature Preserve System of Austin, Texas. Austin and Travis County have since become leaders in conservation, specializing in programs that serve multiple purposes including parkland acquisition, habitat preservation and watershed protection. Safeguarding the local aquifer is particularly important here because, in addition to supplying drinking water, the Edwards Aquifer fills a beloved swimming hole called the Barton Springs Pool. The quantity and quality of water at Barton Springs Pool serves as a barometer of environmental health and possibly even community well-being in Austin.
The Boy Scouts have also contributed significantly to preservation in some of the programs profiled in this book. In 1936, the Arizona Boy Scouts launched a campaign to save the Bighorn sheep population in Arizona, which had dwindled to an alarming 150 animals. They were ultimately joined by the National Wildlife Federation, the Issac Walton League and the Audubon Society. But some observers believe that the Scouts should largely be credited with the 1939 creation of the 860,000-acre Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Preserve, which protects habitat for pygmy owls, mountain lions, javelina and Sonoran pronghorn as well as Bighorn sheep.
In addition, to facilitating preservation in Pima County, Arizona, the Boy Scouts were involved in preservation of 5,000-acre Forest Park, in the heart of Portland, Oregon. This prominent ridge had been scarred by decades of logging, wildfires and failed development ventures. In the 1940s, the Boy Scouts joined local hiking and mountaineering clubs in replanting the damaged areas. This restored not only the hillsides but the City’s respect for its natural heritage, leading to the creation of Portland’s largest city park in 1948.
Many of the preservation programs profiled in this book benefit from conservation organizations that operate at a regional rather than national level. The decision to form the Sempervirens Fund was made by a photographer and a group of educators, writers and women’s group members while on an expedition to the coastal redwood groves of Santa Cruz County, California in 1900. Two years later this area was preserved as California’s first state park, Big Basin Redwoods. The State of California proceeded to create an impressive network of state beaches and parks in Santa Cruz County often, with the assistance of other conservation groups including the Trust for Public Land and Save-the-Redwoods League. But the Sempervirens Fund may very well have the most ambitious plans for this region, envisioning an uninterrupted forest throughout the coastal mountains of San Mateo, Santa Clara and Santa Cruz counties.
While standing in a grove of ancient redwoods in Humboldt County, California, the founders of the Save-the-Redwoods League realized that these giants, the tallest trees on earth, would disappear unless someone took action. The League skillfully joined private donations with public dollars, ultimately facilitating the preservation of more than 181,000 acres of forestland and the development of 59 redwood parks and preserves. Over time, the state and federal governments protected 132,000 acres of land and 27 miles of coastline in Humboldt and Del Norte counties within Redwood National and State Parks, now designated as a World Heritage Site and an International Biosphere Reserve. Although complete protection of the ancient redwoods has not been secured, roughly 30 percent of Humboldt County is currently preserved thanks largely to the cooperation of governments at every level and effective private conservation organizations like Save-the-Redwoods.
In addition to Save-the-Redwoods and the Sempervirens Fund, the Greenbelt Alliance has supplied leadership, advocacy and support to open space preservation efforts throughout the San Francisco Bay Region. Another regional organization, the Peninsula Open Space Trust, raised over $200 million in a campaign called Saving the Endangered Coast, which has already preserved 17,000 acres of land in San Mateo County, California. Thanks to these efforts as well as the work of the Mid-Peninsula Regional Open Space District, the State of California and the County’s own park system, many parts of San Mateo County are so unspoiled that they seem like they are 200 miles rather than 20 miles south of downtown San Francisco.
In addition to national and regional conservation organizations, many of the communities profiled in this book are helped by local land trusts. In 1980, dairy farmers in Marin County, California formed the Marin Agricultural Land Trust (MALT), which has worked with the State Coastal Conservancy and others to preserve over 40,000 acres of farmland to date. In addition to MALT’s work, county, state and federal agencies have built a massive network of parks and preserves that raise the total amount of protected land to over 160,000 acres, which is roughly half of the County’s land area. This feat is particularly remarkable considering that Marin County is in the heart of the booming San Francisco Bay Region right across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco.
The Sonoma Land Trust has preserved over 19,000 acres of land in Sonoma County, California by working with private donors and others, including the County’s Open Space District, which is funded by a quarter-cent sales tax. In 2008, the Trust was in the process of preserving the Jenner Headlands, 5,630 acres of stunning coastline, redwood forests, wildlife habitat and a corridor for the California Coastal Trail. Purchase of Jenner Headlands would be the largest single conservation acquisition in Sonoma County history and carries a price tag of $36 million. But the Trust’s funding partners include the Open Space District, the California Coastal Conservancy, the California Wildlife Conservation Board, the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, the Tellabs Foundation and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Consequently, it seems likely that the Sonoma Land Trust and Sonoma County as a whole will succeed in protecting this coastal jewel.
Leadership in open space preservation can come from public agencies of any size, including township governments. When Massachusetts adopted the Cape Cod Open Space Acquisition Program, all 15 townships on Cape Cod took advantage of this authorization by adopting a three percent property tax surcharge for land conservation. Using this tool alone, these townships have generated almost $200 million since 1999. In addition, the federal government has preserved over 44,000 acres of land and 40 miles of coastline in the Cape Cod National Seashore. Similarly, the State of Massachusetts has protected a state forest and three state parks on Cape Cod including 1,900-acre Nickerson State Park. Together, all levels of government are doing their part to keep Cape Cod from being loved to death.
Townships in the Midwest are also becoming preservation leaders. In Dane County, Wisconsin, home of the University of Wisconsin as well as the Wisconsin State Capitol, Dunn Township approved a property tax increase of one half of one percent to fund the acquisition of agricultural easements, creating the state’s first purchase of development rights program. This and other township preservation programs combine with successes of other public agencies and private organizations to ensure that Dane County maintains its reputation as one of the best places to live in the United States.
Cities are often in the forefront of preservation efforts. Alameda County, which stretches from the San Francisco Bay to California’s Central Valley, is a preservation leader largely through the success of the East Bay Regional Parks District, which owns 24 regional parks in Alameda County totaling 50,000 acres. The federal government contributes another 23,000 acres here within the Don Edwards Wildlife Refuge, the largest urban wildlife refuge in the nation. Despite this success, the City of Livermore has been steadily using innovative tools including a specific plan and a transfer of development rights program in which development inside the City’s urban growth boundary pays for preservation outside that boundary. To date, the South Livermore Specific Plan alone has reached its target of facilitating the creation of 24 new small wineries and is fast approaching its goal of preserving 5,000 acres of vineyards. These accomplishments support agro-tourism as a local industry and help Livermore build its reputation as a premier wine region.
State agencies are a key ingredient to successful preservation in many of the communities profiled in this book. On the east side of San Francisco Bay, Mount Diablo State Park and adjacent public lands, with over 89,000 acres of trails, habitat and spectacular scenic views, constitute the wild heart of Contra Costa County. In addition, the East Bay Regional Parks District, which serves Alameda County as well as Contra Costa County, manages over 97,000 acres of land in 65 parks and preserves with more than 1,150 miles of trails. These state and local efforts alone help to ensure that open space and even wilderness are preserved within this teeming megalopolis.
The federal government often serves as the preservation catalyst in the communities recognized in this book. During the Great Depression, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and the Works Progress Administration (WPA) restored 10,000 acres of clear-cut, exhausted land on Catoctin Mountain in Frederick County, Maryland. This area ultimately was split into Cunningham Falls State Park and Catoctin Mountain National Park. The campgrounds and shelters built by the CCC in the 1930s are enjoyed by visitors to this day, including the cluster of cabins that Franklin D. Roosevelt liked so much he made it into the presidential retreat now known as Camp David.
Although local, state and federal preservation efforts may predominate in any given community, teamwork achieves the best results. The federal government manages over one million acres of open space in Los Angeles County, primarily in the Angeles National Forest, which serves as an outdoor playground for the County’s ten million inhabitants as well as a natural greenbelt, with peaks exceeding 10,000 feet. The State of California maintains another 59,000 acres here in more than 25 parks and beaches. Los Angeles County itself provides more than 65,000 acres of parkland, greatly assisted by voter-approved propositions that generated almost $859 million in parkland funding. But a significant example of cooperation occurred in 1978, when the National Park Service partnered with the State of California and local governments to create the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area, which protects much of the coastal mountain range that extends over 40 miles west from the heart of the City of Los Angeles. The boundaries of this recreation area encompass over 153,000 acres, making it the world’s largest urban national park.
Finally, all of the success stories presented here depend on citizens who understand the importance of open space preservation and are willing to reach into their own pockets to support it. In 1934, in the middle of the Great Depression, the voters of Contra Costa County, California overwhelmingly voted to use their property taxes to preserve expensive ridge-top lands and create the East Bay Regional Parks District, the first regional parks district in the country.
Far-sighted citizens often agree to be serial givers. In 1972, the voters of Monterey County, California approved formation of the Monterey Peninsula Regional Park District (MPRPD), funded by a one-half percent allocation of property tax. In 2004, voters within the MPRPD approved a ballot measure creating an additional benefit assessment district for expanded preservation activities. These same residents support the various private conservation organizations working to preserve Big Sur and ensure that Monterey County deserves its reputation as a 2.4-million-acre scenic postcard.
Community Recognition Program
This book is primarily intended to celebrate open space successes. But, as explained in the beginning of this introduction, I hope it also helps to encourage a national organization to initiate and maintain a program that provides annual recognition to a large number of communities that meet predetermined conservation criteria. A possible model might be the Tree City USA program run by the Arbor Day Foundation. Cites, towns and villages apply to the Arbor Day Foundation annually and receive or maintain their Tree City USA recognition if they meet four standards. Over 3,300 communities are currently holders of this award. These communities can buy signs from the Arbor Day Foundation and post them at city entrances. Since over 120 million people live in Tree City USA communities, these signs are seen by literally millions of people every day.
Using Tree City USA as a possible model, a national conservation organization could create a comparable program recognizing open space preservation. Communities could apply to this organization and receive the award if they meet established criteria. Admittedly, there will be difficulties in developing fair yet simple criteria for open space preservation awards. Should recognition be based on achievement (such as acreage preserved), effort (such as funding per capita) or a combination of both? Should any adjustments be made if preservation has been facilitated by physical features (such as swamps and mountain ranges) or past efforts of state or federal government (such as the presence of national forests)? Should different awards recognize various levels of achievement (possibly borrowing the iconography of gold, silver and bronze medals from the Olympics)? Is it necessary to adjust for a community’s population or location?
This book is not the right place to attempt to answer these questions. The organization that assumes responsibility for the program will be in the best position to do that. But, in my opinion, resolution of these issues and institution of such a recognition program would be well worth the effort. In communities that meet the criteria, the entrance signs will serve as positive feedback for elected officials, voters, taxpayers and everyday citizens and will hopefully serve to maintain and build support for additional preservation efforts. When visitors see these signs, it could motivate some of them to go back to their hometowns and champion comparable preservation accomplishments. In short, it’s true that conservation is its own reward. But a recognition program of this nature could greatly assist the future of open space preservation. |
