Meet Me At The Mitchell

I haven't yet shared a major victory because it wasn't quite finalized due to the last "ditch" efforts (pardon the pun) of the hooligans who caused this charade in the first place. But it's over now. The Landowners' Petitions for Rehearing were denied yesterday and the decision in the Montana Supreme Court is final. And we won. The people of Montana won.

The Mitchell Slough is a stream; a side-channel of the Bitterroot River. And no matter what rich landowners do to "improve" an already thriving resource, doesn't change that character. In fact, MDT can dam, people can berm, developers can bulldoze and it still doesn't change a once-"natural" stream into a ditch like some landowners in the Bitterroot tried to claim.

This is important to Montana's legacy of stream access and sharing a public resource. It's important to protect the ability of our public to use, share and love the resource so that they have a reason to conserve, preserve and protect those wild places. The landowners (who included Huey Lewis, Charles Schwab and Ken Seibel) tried to claim that they were "protecting" the resource by keeping the (unwashed) public from accessing the stream. And then they threw money at it to "improve" what an old-timer who'd been fishing there since he was 10 called a "perfect fishing hole" and what they called "a mucked up mud pot." And because of the Montana Supreme Court decision, we can continue to use, share and love the resource so that we have a reason to conserve, preserve and protect it. It's as simple as that. I saw this lawsuit as an attempt to change the legacy of Montanans who grew up loving the wild places and as a result, wanting to keep them wild.

As an example of this legacy, I learned my ethic from my Papa and Mama who took us fishing and camping every single weekend. I have fond memories of catching perch, swimming from sun-up to sun-down, drinking my first beer, falling off a cliff and into a tree and sleeping in a tent like it was my bed. The thought of losing those places to landowners who would cut off access all in the name of "improving" the resource could possibly drive me to criminal actions. Because I learned to love the places where I could be outside and enjoy the natural environment, I would dedicate my life to conserving and preserving the wild places I love.

And I submit that this case allows that conservation ethic to develop in others. The legacy of Montanans is alive and well and the "pefect fishing hole" is open to all even if someone else thinks it's a "mucked up mudpot." When the ice thaws, you will find me floating the waters of the Mitchell Slough. Meet me there.

Access, Access, Access

I’m not a hunter. But I work for an agency that manages wildlife populations for the people of Montana so that they are healthy and thriving … and huntable. I am a passionate advocate for the environment; the habitat it provides for critters and the majesty it provides for my spiritual health. But, I didn’t realize until working here that hunting is an intricate part of keeping healthy and thriving wildlife populations in this state (and other states, I suspect). My zealous advocacy, personally and professionally, for the environment now includes the same fervor for the legacy of hunting. So if you think hunting is just a sport for rednecks and their blood-thirsty, testosterone-charged, trophy-game-lusting ways, you’re probably right. But it’s more than that. For those that treat it as a way to be a part of the age-old natural duality of prey and predator that keeps our ecosystem thriving, I subscribe whole-heartedly.

In these changing times, however, where new landowners don’t recognize the value of hunting as a tool to manage a population, the populations are exploding. The elk population in Montana is increasing every year due to mild winters and the creation (intentionally or not) of safe-havens for large herds. As the population increases, the whole system is thrown off balance and the wild, natural habitat threatens to be trampled and can no longer support the increasing elk populations. The populations move to greener pastures to forage and feed – the crops and fields on large ranches. Those ranchers who don’t allow access for hunting, harbor the elk and charge hunters to take trophy elk that is supposed to be available for veiwing, enjoying, and hunting to all the people of Montana; not just the rich who can afford it. Cabela’s is an example of just this type of problem.

I can’t say it any better than the Montana Wildlife Federation said it in a letter to the CEO of Cabela’s requesting them to consider some alternatives to selling ranches that were traditionally open to public hunting. Rather, MWF request that they exercise their private property rights in a manner that could take into consideration the hunting and fishing legacy of access and conservation in Montana; the legacy and conservation that has made their coporation rich:

“The MWF Executive Board finds that Cabela’s is trading on its trusted
reputation as a merchant of sporting goods to engage in a real estate marketing
activity that is calculated to subvert and destroy the very system of North
American wildlife conservation that has provided Cabela’s with the
hunter-and-angler markets that gave your company life in the first place.”

Stewards

Yesterday, I travelled to Havre, Montana for work. I was there for a Fish, Wildlife & Parks Commission meeting where I was available to answer legal questions that generally come from outer space. It's a good time for me to practice thinking on my feet so I actually enjoy the opportunity. And when I can travel to a new place, it's an added bonus. Havre was one of those new and beautiful places.

Another added bonus yesterday was to be there for the presentation of an award that is called The Good Neighbor Award. The award is intended for a landowner who has lived a life as a good steward of the land; that is, treats it like the special place that it is - away from development - and enhances the habitat and unique character that Montana offers. Additionally the award recognizes a legacy of allowing public access for recreation and hunting without charging for that access or allowing outfitting on the property. It is essentially an award that recognizes the folks who, without provocation or compensation, protect our last best place.

When the 80-plus-year-old fella was presented with the award yesterday, he was asked if he wanted to say a word. He seemed surprised and caught off-guard. But once given the opportunity, he seized it and spoke for 10 minutes. In those 10 minutes, he told a story. He said, in his gravelly, gruff, hard-to-understand-old-man-muffly way,

When we got this award, it brought a memory. About 75 years ago, I wasn't very big or old. The hired hand took me fishing. When we got to the fishin' hole on our land, someone was already there. I had to impress our hired hand, so I marched right up to the fella and asked him how in tar-nation he got the permission to be there and told him he should just get on down the road. He left and we fished and I was pretty proud of myself.

Within a week, my father sat me down and taught me a good lesson that I've lived with my whole life. He said, 'What made you think you could tell that good man to leave the fishing hole?' When I tried to convince my father that it's our land and that we could tell him to get out. He told me, 'This isn't your land; it's ALL of our land. We are stewards of the land and that means that we get to share what this beautiful Earth gave us with others who want to enjoy it. Now you will go and write that man a letter and apologize.' That letter was one of the hardest I've ever
written. But I learned a valuable lesson that we've passed on to our
children: The Earth owns the land and we are here just to take care of it.

It warmed my heart to listen to this man tell the story of his life and how he treated the land, OUR land. And then it reminded me that this landowner is in danger of extinction and made me want to work harder and in earnest to continue saving the last best place.