Archaeology, Off-Road Vehicles, and the BLM
April 20, 2005
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by Lisa Schiffman |
Preservationists, along with eco- and heritage tourism
interests, try to protect ancient sites on federal lands in
southeastern Utah
Christmas Eve, 2004, near the town of Bluff in southeastern
Utah--There was a biting chill in the afternoon air, despite
cloudless sunny skies that reflected off the powdery desert sand
and the red sandstone canyon walls. Except for an occasional rumble
from passing cars on the distant highway, the quiet remained
unbroken until eight men appeared, perched on motorcycles and quad
runners and covered head to toe in protective clothing--helmets,
goggles, and gloves. Surveying the open expanse, they revved up the
engines of their machines. Ignoring the United States government
sign cautioning visitors about the cultural treasures in the sand,
the men ran their vehicles up and over the hills and washes.
After several hours on the sand dunes, the men tired of their
sport and departed, leaving behind clouds of dust and a swath of
tire tracks cutting across the fragile desert landscape, a visible
scarring that would take months if not years for the land to
recover. Bluff town resident Lynell Schalk photographed the damage
and picked up the empty beer cans and litter that the men had left.
"They left trash behind and ran over three archaeological sites on
top of the dune behind my house," she says. A former Bureau of Land
Management (BLM) ranger and special agent, Schalk spent much of her
career investigating archaeological theft and trafficking in the
Southwest and California. Despite her report to the local BLM field
office in Monticello, Utah, she says nothing was done. "The BLM has
written it off as a sacrifice area," she says.
What is happening in Bluff represents, in a nutshell, a larger
controversy in the Southwest today over the appropriate management
and use of public lands, and the difficulties that governmental
agencies and concerned citizens face in protecting Native American
sites. The Bureau of Land Management, a federal agency under the
Department of the Interior, is responsible for managing 262 million
acres of land, roughly one-eighth of the land in the United States,
with the bulk of it in the West and Alaska. The BLM manages a
variety of resources on those lands, including energy oil, coal,
and minerals; timber; wild horse and burro populations; wilderness
areas; and paleontological, archaeological, and historical
sites.
The American public favors a balanced use of the land between
conservation and recreational use, but achieving this balance has
proved a tricky proposition in the West. The explosion of off-road
vehicle use for recreation in the past ten years poses a serious
threat to the preservation of Native American sites on public land.
So does the increasing number of hikers, campers, and other outdoor
enthusiasts who come to the Four Corners region of Arizona,
Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah. That includes archaeology buffs,
who come to explore the cliff dwellings and rock art left behind by
the Anasazi (Ancient Puebloan) peoples.
Southeastern Utah is world-renowned for its rich cultural
resources. In San Juan County, where the town of Bluff is located,
there are 26,000 recorded archaeological sites according to Jim
Carter, one of two staff archaeologists for the BLM's Monticello
Field Office, which is responsible for the management of 1.8 of the
county's 2.5 million acres. In addition, he says, there are
thousands of sites that have not yet been recorded. His estimate of
the total number of archaeological sites is 150,000 to 250,000.
"The sites range from a long time period, going back 12,000 years,"
says Carter. "A lot of the activity has to do with the Ancestral
Puebloan people. They're the showy sites." The Ancient Puebloan
people inhabited the region until around A.D. 1300. The period
between 1100 and 1300 saw the construction of the cliff dwellings,
which he says are very well preserved. "That is only one type of
site, however. Keep in mind that there is a huge time period before
that. There are other very important sites as well."
"Sand dunes on public land are places that appeal to motor
sports users," says Franklin Seal, Outreach Coordinator for the
Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, an advocacy group for America's
Redrock wilderness. He points to off-road vehicle registration
figures for the state of Utah that show an upward spiral over the
past 15 years. In 1990, some 9,000 of them were registered. Today,
that number has climbed to 130,000, not counting vehicles brought
in by out-of-state visitors. Off-road vehicles include a broad
category of motorized vehicles that include ATVs (all-terrain
vehicles), rock crawlers, and dirt bikes that are designed to go
over rough landscapes. Technology has made them into a powerful
mode of transportation. "These highly modified vehicles [they can
be customized] can go over four-foot boulders and can crush trees,"
says Seal.
There is now a bitter controversy between those who resent
government rules restricting access to public land and
environmentalist-minded groups who believe that unregulated
off-road vehicle use is destructive. "This is the hot iron in the
fire right now," says Jim Hook, owner of Recapture Lodge in rural
Bluff near the Navajo reservation. "Old-time folk think land
ownership should be privately held, better than by the government
or the 'damned environmentalists.'" Hook adds that he does not
endorse the "Sage Brush Rebellion" sentiments this attitude
reflects, but many people in the region do harbor anti-federal
sentiments, including a sizable number of San Juan county
officials.
Last spring, in a show of defiance against the BLM, San Juan
County Commissioner Lynn Stevens led a jeep safari in Arch Canyon
after being denied a permit. "One-hundred jeeps took an illegal
trip after the BLM told them they can't authorize the trip," says
Schalk, who witnessed it on horseback. "They ran their jeeps up the
canyon in violation of the BLM order." Stevens rode in the lead
vehicle with the county sheriff, dressed in civilian clothes,
sitting next to him, she says. "I was appalled that a law officer
would do such an illegal trip," she says. A subpoena was issued to
the county and the sheriff, but there were no indictments. In fact,
Utah Governor Jon Huntsman just appointed Stevens to be Coordinator
of the Public Lands Policy Coordinating Office, a position in which
he will oversee the state's public land policy. Stevens did not
return calls from ARCHAEOLOGY.
Many off-road vehicle enthusiasts do behave responsibly when on
public land and remain on designated trails. The problem lies with
those who disregard signs and go off-trail, wreaking havoc on the
land and running over archaeological sites, often unknowingly. With
only one permanent archaeologist and two BLM law enforcement
rangers patrolling San Juan County, there are simply not enough
eyes and ears to monitor off-road vehicle use. There is not enough
of a BLM presence says Vaughn Hadenfeldt, owner of Far Out
Expeditions, a backpacking and hiking outfit based in Bluff.
Hadenfeldt guides camping trips into the backcountry. "We are
surrounded by lots of public land with incredible cultural
resources from rock art to ruins," he says. "Walking out my front
door in Bluff, right here in town are archaeological sites."
Hadenfeldt says he has seen damage to archaeological sites in
several of the areas in which he leads his expeditions. Comb Ridge,
which he labels the "crown jewel" of the region for its "myriad of
archaeological sites" is one. The ridge is a large uplift of rock
that creates a 130-mile-long spine across the landscape reaching
from Arizona into Utah. Two parallel dirt roads provide access to
it, he says, particularly on the side that is not on the Navajo
Indian reservation. It is a prime location for hikers and off-road
vehicle users. Designated as an ATV open area, off-road vehicle use
is unrestricted. "I have been seeing impact to these archaeological
sites. A hiker creates dots on the landscape but a four-wheel drive
creates a continuous line." Low moisture leaves the ground
vulnerable to erosion from tire tracks left by off-road vehicles,
says Hadenfeldt. Button Wash, a valley at the base of Comb Ridge,
is another locale inundated by off-road vehicles he says. "The area
is full of ruins, pottery, stuff coming out of the ground. ATV
users are crunching this stuff. BLM officials tried putting a fence
around part of the area, but it didn't work," says Hadenfeldt. The
fence was torn down.
The prevailing attitude that individual rights take precedence
over government regulations makes it difficult to enforce
restrictions, according to Hadenfeldt says. Defending their
position, off-road vehicle enthusiasts use the argument, "well my
grandmother can't hike anymore so you can't tell her she can't
access this archaeological site however she can so she can see and
enjoy it." Hadenfeldt's response: "There are lots of multiple-use
roads--do we have to allow access that is destructive everywhere?
My answer is no."
While some damage to sites by off-road vehicles is inadvertent,
they are a great tool for looters and vandals, Hadenfeldt says,
making it easier for them to get to remote sites. Hadenfeldt
reports seeing bike tracks going up to sites in Grand Gulch, a
dramatic gorge filled with ancient relics, and bullet and graffiti
damage to a rock-art site near Bluff. It has also become more
difficult to spot sites that have been looted. "In the old days pot
hunters just dug big holes--now they're getting more sophisticated
and even might back fill a site," he says, to elude detection.
Technology and the Internet have exacerbated the problem. Hand-held
GPS devices, which can pinpoint the exact location of an
archaeological site, combined with off-road vehicle use, have made
locating archaeological sites easy. "People post positions of sites
on home web sites, which are widely read and promote visitation.
You no longer have to be savvy with a compass. You just punch in
the coordinates and go right to a site."
Assistant United States Federal Prosecutor Wayne Dance, who
prosecuted looters in Utah in the 1990s, including the notorious
pot hunter Earl Shumway, has instructed investigators, prosecutors,
and archaeologists around the country about the Archaeological
Resources Protection Act (ARPA). Passed into law by Congress in
1979 to prevent the looting and destruction of archaeological
resources on public land and Indian lands, ARPA expands the
protections provided by the Antiquities Act of 1906. Violators are
liable to fines, imprisonment, or both. One case Dance prosecuted
under ARPA involved access by ATVs. "Not only was it a felony
conviction...but it resulted in a forfeiture of their [the
defendants] ATVs and pickup truck because they used the ATVs to
commit a crime," he recalls. Looting is down, he says, in part
because of the aggressive campaign his office and the BLM took in
the 1990s to apprehend and prosecute pot hunters and through
increased public awareness through education.
Off-road vehicles are only a small part of the problem,
according to Sandra Meyers, director of the BLM field office in
Monticello. "Hikers are probably the primary cause of
archaeological damage," she says. "In concentrated locations you
can get problems from off-road vehicles (like Bluff) but
county-wide the primary problem is hiking and camping, dogs and
pack animals. People climbing all over ruins, digging holes to make
latrines, camping on archaeological sites are more damaging than
ATVs." People often take pieces of the wood from ancient sites to
build campfires, she says. Cedar Mesa, a popular area with hikers
and backpackers, which Meyers says the BLM has designated as a
"critical environmental concern for cultural sites," needs to be
managed for lower impact. Currently a permit system is in place to
regulate visitation although more drastic measures might have to be
taken, such as the requirement that visitors pack out human wastes,
she says. "We are all part of the problem, myself included,"
Hadenfeldt admits. "By introducing people in these areas and
promoting archaeology. Some sites are not maliciously damaged, but
loved to death. That is the result of too much visitation."
But a study on cultural resources at risk on BLM lands published
by the agency in 2000 cites uncontrolled off-road vehicle use as
the most "immediate and pervasive threat to cultural resources on
BLM lands." With fewer restrictions than other federal lands, BLM
lands have become very popular, the study says: "Urban sprawl
encroaching on previously remote areas is turning the public lands
into recreational backyards. The explosion in the use of mountain
bikes and ATVs, and even the designation of backcountry byways, has
dramatically increased visitation to lands that were previously
used only by small numbers of hikers. This increased vandalism
inevitably results in intentional and inadvertent damage through
collection, vandalism, surface disturbance and other depreciative
behavior." The threat to BLM's cultural resources has become a
crisis, the study's authors conclude.
That threat is well-known to the inhabitants of the picturesque
town of Bluff. Founded by Mormon pioneers in 1880, on the banks of
the San Juan River in 1880. Bluff is a destination for tourists en
route from the Grand Canyon in Arizona to Mesa Verde in Colorado.
Its residents are proud of their pioneer heritage and abundant
archaeology. There are numerous burial and other archaeological
sites throughout Bluff. In the center of town is a Pueblo Great
House dating from A.D. 1150 to 1300. Schalk says she has found
artifacts on her property, including the bones of a human hand. "We
have a rock-art panel [in the vicinity] that a BLM archaeologist
told me was the largest and most complex site in San Juan County.
It is definitely eligible for nomination to the National Register
of Historic Places," she says.
Far from being just a noisy nuisance, off-road vehicle use in
public land surrounding Bluff, in addition to scarring the desert
landscape and creating clouds of dust and pollution, threatens the
town's tourism-based economy. "This county bites itself in the
butt," says Schalk, referring to San Juan County officials and
residents who support unrestricted recreational off-road vehicle
use.
"The town has spent a lot of effort promoting visitation to
archaeological sites in the area," Hadenfeldt says. In 2002, fed up
with the noise, pollution, and damage to archaeological sites
caused by off-road vehicles in the land surrounding Bluff, town
residents decided it was time to take a stand. "Not the
tree-hugging crowd, but citizens concerned by what they saw going
on around them," says Hadenfeldt. Schalk organized the Bluff
Landowners Coalition, a group of residents who drafted a petition
for emergency closure for a 2.5-square-mile area of sand dunes
leading up to a sandstone bluff with Indian rock art. The BLM Field
Office in Monticello approved the petition, but the paperwork was
stalled there by a bureaucratic delay before being sent on to the
state BLM office in Salt Lake, Utah.
By the time it arrived in Washington, attorneys in the
Solicitor's Office there questioned whether it was a true
emergency because of the length of time--two years--it took the
document to arrive there from the Monticello Field Office. As of
this date, the Federal Register Notice is still awaiting signature.
"All they have to do is publish this in the Federal Register and
the area would be closed, which would allow us to assess the
damage," Schalk says. "It is very much an emergency because there
are national treasures in the sand dunes that are being driven over
and destroyed by well-meaning folks who simply want to have fun,"
Seal says.
"The Federal Closure Notice is very important to our field
office and to the city of Bluff but is a drop in the bucket for the
federal government," Meyers says. She expressed confidence that the
Federal Register Notice will be signed within the next few weeks
and will serve to protect the closure area until the new BLM
Resource Management Plan is implemented. In fact, the residents of
Bluff won their battle when the BLM announced that the emergency
closure of 1,835 that they sought had been granted on April 11. The
BLM press release noted that, "Impacts to cultural sites and the
unsightly marring of hillsides that form the backdrop to Bluff are
a serious concern warranting this closure order."
The Bluff closure, however, deals with a relatively small area,
and is not the solution to the larger problem. "You can't just
throw up a fence and say 'keep out,'" says Meyers. "A lot of
people east of the Mississippi don't understand how the BLM
manages this land. What governs our management is the Resource
Management Plan. BLM land is designated for multiple purposes. Each
plan lasts from 15 to 20 years before becoming outdated. The
current plan, which was implemented in 1991, is in the process of
being revised. It is a three-year process." The old Resource
Management Plan has many open areas, she says, that will be changed
in the new plan, which will clearly designate roads and trails.
Conflicting interests from public and political sources, from
off-road vehicle users and county officials not to limit access on
BLM land, and from the Bush administration's push to open up
wilderness areas for oil and gas exploration all put pressure on
the drafting of a new Resource Management Plan. Schalk foresees a
difficult task ahead for Meyers. "This is where the rubber meets
the road--if she is successful in making changes," she says. "We
don't want to live for another 15 years with the amount of ATV
open areas in this county because there won't be anything
left."
Besides Bluff, other communities in Utah and across the
Southwest have petitioned for emergency closure. A petition for
emergency closure is pending in Hog Canyon/Trail Canyon, in Kanab,
and the BLM has also received information concerning a proposed
closure of more than 260 square miles at Factory Butte. And the
State of Utah School & Institutional Trust Lands Administration
(which manages 3.4 million acres of lands for the benefit of
Utah's schools and other public institutions) announced the
closings of two sites in Moab because of damage from off-road
vehicles and overuse this past March.
Seal is hopeful that the BLM will take into account the Redrock
Heritage Proposal when drafting the new Resource Management Plan. A
comprehensive public lands management proposal that covers both the
Moab and Monticello Field Office, it was submitted by local
citizens and a broad cross-section of businesses based in Moab,
Monticello, and Bluff. "The environmental community has been
conservative in going about our assessment of which areas of
Redrock wild lands need protection," he says. "Even if all of the
areas throughout Southeast Utah that we are fighting to protect are
protected, the vast majority of BLM land will be available for
recreation. Even within these areas we have allowed for major roads
to gain access."
He applauds the success of the residents of Bluff in seeking to
preserve their town's archaeological legacy. The care and
preservation of Southern Utah's unique cultural heritage will
benefit future generations. "A lot of folks out there realize that
this corner of the state is unlike any other place on earth," says
Seal. "People are blown away by the beauty, solitude and drama of
this land."
Lisa Schiffman, a recent
journalism graduate of New York University, is an intern with
ARCHAEOLOGY.

© 2005 by the Archaeological Institute of America
www.archaeology.org/online/features/southwest/ |