When I lost my job with the condor recovery
program in 1980, I think a few people considered it my own fault,
blaming it on what they considered my arrogance and unwillingness
to compromise. It's interesting that my first big controversy
centered around some people's belief that I was all too willing
to compromise. Neither assessment was true, but ain't it funny
how life works out, sometimes?
Early in 1970, U. S. Gypsum proposed open
pit mining for phosphates on the west slope of Pine Mountain,
in the Los Padres National Forest high country some 20 miles from
Ojai. Because the mine would be located in an area where condors
sometimes occurred, I was asked to assist the Forest Service with
their evaluation of the proposal. On 20 May, I joined a large
group for the first show-me trip to the area. There were fifteen
of us, representing U. S. Gypsum, Forest Service, Bureau of Land
Management, Geological Survey, and Fish and Wildlife Service.
In my field journal for that day, I recorded my introduction to
the project.
"We walked up the Chorro Grande Trail to the center of the mine and plant site. Frank Appleyard (U. S. Gypsum) explained the project with George Neilsen (Leasing Officer, Bureau of Land Management, Sacramento) asking many knowledgeable questions. I didn't understand most of it, but gained the following impressions:
(1) the phosphate deposit is an extremely rich one.
(2) U. S. Gypsum feels there will be almost no dust and very little chance of pollution. Neilsen felt they were a little too optimistic but still seemed to feel that, if they followed their plans completely, it would be a fairly safe operation.
(3) Most of the actual mining would be done by mechanical ripping - blasting would occasionally be necessary, but is supposedly a rather small part of the operation.
"Don Ziel (U. S. Geological Survey, Menlo Park) seemed almost fanatical in his support for U. S. Gypsum, and in his dislike for 'pressure groups' slowing the project. He felt there was no question of granting a permit to U. S. Gypsum - he said once a discovery is made, that's it (no basis for refusing). However, Al West (Ojai District Ranger) pointed out that the Regional Forester cannot approve an impact study concerning a strip mine operation. It has to be reviewed and approved by the Chief of the Forest Service."
Because I worked in the Ojai Ranger Station,
it was hard not to hear a lot about the mine proposal over the
next several months. The more I heard, the more I was convinced
that it shouldn't be permitted at Pine Mountain. In the first
place, it would be a big, open, noisy hole right beneath one of
the nicest areas on the Los Padres Forest. It would seriously
detract from the hiking, camping, and hunting use of the pine
forests on Pine Mountain and Reyes Peak. Then, there was the safety
hazard from all those big phosphate-laden trucks traveling the
narrow, winding grades of Highway 33. Also, all those trucks would
have to pass right through Ojai, a quiet and scenic community
so far spared from the automotive excesses of most of the rest
of Southern California. Finally, as I understood it, there was
really no economic need for phosphates at that time, no matter
how good the quality was.
What about the condors? That was a tougher
call for me. Condors did occasionally fly over the mine site,
but it was not a feeding area. There were roosting and nesting
sites to the east, but they were outside of the 1 1/2 mile limit
that we used to discourage other types of noise and disturbance.
The condors certainly wouldn't benefit from the mine, but would
they be harmed? I thought it was a hard case to make. When the
Condor Advisory Committee visited the site on 25 September 1970,
they agreed. As I recorded in my journal: "Members seemed
pretty appalled by the proposal, but none seemed to think the
condor itself was enough justification for defeating the project."
For almost a year, I had little to do with
the phosphate mine proposal. My journal records that I had several
phone conversations about it (but I didn't write any details),
and there is a note about a public meeting scheduled for February
1971 (but I didn't go, and I think it was postponed). Finally,
27-28 July 1971, there was a two-day public hearing, during which
all the issues were aired for the first time. Information presented
to the public at that time included a general statement about
where the mine would be located in relation to condor nests, roosts,
feeding areas, and flight lanes. John Borneman summarized the
condor part of the hearings in his newsletter:
"The July 27-28 BLM hearings in Ventura showed that public
sentiment is overwhelmingly opposed to the proposed phosphate
mine. NAS (Audubon) opposed the development of the phosphate mine
on the grounds that even though it cannot be proven that such
a development would be detrimental to the survival of the California
condor, by the same token it cannot be proven that it would NOT
have an adverse effect on condor survival. Since we have no shortage
of phosphates we have an obligation to do all we can to keep from
adding additional pressures to an already over-pressured species.
Although the Environmental Protection Agency has come out against
the mine, the decision is up to the Secretary of the Interior."
The wheels ground slowly. I received a call
on 10 November 1971 from my boss, Ray Erickson, merely letting
me know that the impact statement was almost completed. Then,
on 31 January 1972, I received the first call from our Washington
Office: "Gene Ruhr, Office of Endangered Species, called
to discuss the phosphate mine proposal. I clarified a few points
re disturbance, nest abandonment, etc."
The draft environmental statement finally came out, and on 24 March 1972 I sent Ray Erickson my comments. A few days later I got another call from Washington: I didn't interpret Gene's calls as anything out of the ordinary. It was common practice in the Government to go over and over these kinds of statements until they were worded "just right." In the next couple weeks, it began to appear that something was brewing.
"18 April 1972 - Gene Ruhr call re upcoming call from Mrs. Pat Malin, U. S. Geological Survey, re phosphate mine. Interior has to re-do the environmental impact statement on phosphate mine because it doesn't go into enough detail, and doesn't adequately treat all potential problems."
"26 April 1972 - Sort of a wheel-spinning day. Worked on clapper rail records, literature review, and review of phosphate mine proposal data preparatory to visit next week from Dan Stiles (Wildlife Services, Washington Office) - Phil Lehenbauer called to asked if I would show Stiles around."
"28 April 1972 - Had Eldon Hayes (BLM, Washington) and Patricia Malin (Bureau of Mines, Washington) here to discuss condor and phosphate mine."
"1 May 1972 - With Dan Stiles to Pine Mountain area to talk about phosphate mine proposal. On Pine Mountain ridge from about 1000 to 1300, no condors seen but not seriously looking. Back to office 1500, showed Dan the condor film and talked about condors and phosphate mines until 1630."
After this flurry of activity, interest
in the phosphate mine died (at least at my level). I had one call
from our Washington Office toward the end of July, but nothing
further until 24 January 1973: "Returned call to Charles
Potter, National Wildlife Federation, re phosphate mine and condors.
They plan to do a news article on it. I told him that I considered
the issue only marginally condor-related, but that the Office
of Endangered Species might have other things to say. I suggested
he contact them."
If National Wildlife Federation prepared an article, I never saw
it. After that call, my journal is devoid of any references to
the phosphate mine for over a year. Then, on 31 May 1974 and really
out of the blue, I received two phone calls. One was from the
Bureau of Land Management and the other from the Sacramento office
of Fish and Wildlife Service. Both were to alert me that Interior
was completely re-doing the environmental impact statement, and
that I was drafted to be a full-time member of the team, to write
the wildlife impacts section. Since the only wildlife of any significance
in the project area was the condor, since I had provided all the
information I could on the condor, and since I was in the middle
of what I considered some extremely important condor studies,
I had absolutely no interest in devoting several weeks of my time
to working with an impact team. I expressed those feelings to
Ray Erickson, then left for a family vacation. When I returned,
it had started.
"9 July 1974 - In office until 1030 carding condor sightings, reviewing draft of phosphate mine environmental analysis, etc. Long telephone conversation with Dr. Erickson, mainly about my participation in phosphate mine evaluation - he has already protested and been told I was indispensable!"
"12 July 1974 - All day reviewing material on the Pine Mountain phosphate mine proposal; began writing down some of my ideas regarding impacts on condors."
"17 July 1974 - Jack Clifford (BLM - environmental analysis team leader) called to discuss the phosphate mine rewrite. He still doesn't have a schedule firmed up, but plans to meet in Santa Barbara on 5 August."
At the Santa Barbara meeting, I finally got the word about what had been going on with the phosphate mine proposal, and what the re-write on the impact report was all about.
"5 August 1974 - Met with phosphate analysis team in Santa Barbara 0800-1800. Most of the time, Dr. John Farrell (Department of Interior rep.)spent telling us what he feels in wrong with the Impact Report. Very opinionated and sure he knows more than anybody about everything, including condors. I spent a hectic day trying to teach him some basics about condors, but his mind seems made up that the phosphate mine must have an adverse effect on them."
From then until 24 August, I spent a portion
of almost every day in Santa Barbara, working with the analysis
team, while what I considered the important condor work languished.
The wildlife section of the report - for everything but condors
- was easy. There really wouldn't be any impacts for other species,
except the obvious: they wouldn't be found at the mine site, anymore.
But there were no other rare animals or plants, or anything unique
to the area, so all that could be said was that a few acres of
chaparral would be replaced by a few acres of open pit mine. The
condor section, on the other hand, remained a major problem. John
Farrell was adamant that we were going to find that the phosphate
mine would jeopardize the condors. I was equally adamant that,
while the condors certainly couldn't be ignored, their occasional
occurrence in the area could not be used as a legitimate reason
to deny the mine permits. Finally, my frustration reached its
limits. I finished my report on the condor; gave it to the team
leader; said "I am the condor expert, this is what I think,
take it or leave it;" and went back to my regular duties.
A number of people were very unhappy with
me, but I wasn't just being a prima donna because I was the "expert."
Although the mine really was a very bad idea, and it certainly
wouldn't be good for condors, I thought there was a very strong
reason not to give more emphasis to the negative or the unknown
impacts. My reasoning was that we had much more to lose than we
had to gain by making the phosphate mine a condor issue. Using
Fred Sibley's studies of the effects of disturbance on condors,
we had been able to sidetrack the Topatopa Dam project by showing
that noise and activity within one and one-half miles of condor
nests was likely to be detrimental. At the same time that the
phosphate mine was under consideration, I was working closely
with the Forest Service on reviewing new oil drilling proposals
near the Sespe Condor Sanctuary. We felt that we could win this
first serious challenge to the integrity of the Sanctuary since
1951 if we invoked the "mile and a half rule," but things
were shaping up into a pretty good fight. We needed all the credibility
and consistency we could muster, and I wasn't about to risk everything
by coming out with new "rules" for phosphate mines.
If oil wells, in areas where they would clearly impact condors,
could be allowed within 1 1/2 miles of condor nests, how come
phosphate mines in peripheral habitat had to stay over two miles
away?
After my rebellion, the phosphate mine situation
went its own way for awhile. In November 1974, I visited the mine
site with the people from Washington, D. C. who were writing the
economic analysis of the proposal. Then, in January 1975, the
final environmental impact report was released. My journal notes
for 9 January 1975 seem to indicate that I had "won."
"All day in the office on the condor sighting analysis,
for the comprehensive report. Took a few minutes to review the
Final EIR on Pine Mountain phosphate proposal - reflects accurately,
I think, that there would be little impact on condors."
A month later, I was asked to help our Sacramento
Area Office draft Fish and Wildlife Service comments on the Final
EIR. We were able to come up with a recommendation that acknowledged
the precarious state of the condors, but that didn't jeopardize
our stance on other issues. In essence, we suggested that the
Service oppose the mine on general principles, because there was
no way to completely rule out adverse effects on the condors.
I didn't feel that was contrary to my stance as the "expert."
We would be able to make our original point without confusing
other condor issues. My feelings of well- being lasted almost
a whole week:
"10 March 1975 - Got a call from Dave Marshall to discuss
the phosphate mine EIS - he said that Interior wants to beef up
the condor section."
"14 March 1975 - Jack Clifford, BLM, called to forewarn me
that Interior wants to rewrite the condor section of the phosphate
mine EIS. He will send a copy of their efforts to me if and when
he gets it."
All was quiet again for a couple months,
then: "15 July 1975 - Jack Clifford, BLM, called to tell
me that Dr. Farrell is still holding up the U. S. Gypsum EIS.
He warned me that I may be called to Washington to 'defend my
position'."
"22 July 1975 - Received calls from Don Riddle (BLM, Washington
D.C.) and Jack Clifford (BLM, Sacramento) about phosphate EIS
- Riddle is trying to generate support in Washington for our statement."
"3 September 1975 - I called Jack Clifford to see if a letter
from the Condor Recovery Team regarding the phosphate mine would
be helpful. He feels problems are 'resolved' (conflicting viewpoints
to be discussed in an appendix), and no action is required unless
I hear otherwise."
"7 October 1975 - Jack Clifford called to tell me that the
phosphate mine EIS is in limbo again; should be hearing more."
"9 December 1975 - With Arch Merhoff and Joe Blum (Fish and
Wildlife Service) and Forest Service personnel Bob Lancaster (Forest
Supervisor), Walt Schlor (District Ranger) and Ed Waldaphel (Public
Information Officer), went to Pine Mountain phosphate mine site.
Spent the day on the site and on Pine Mountain."
"11 December 1975 - Took Harry Ohlendorf (Patuxent) to Sespe
oil fields and Hopper Mountain Refuge on a quick 'show me' trip.
Had him back to the airport by 1230, then rushed to Rose
Valley to meet helicopter with Frank Kelly (Secretary of Interior's
Office) and Jack Clifford. Walt Schlor and I flew with them to
the phosphate mine site, discussed the proposal and the EIS."
Oh, those long silences waiting for the
next shoe to drop - and how many shoes does this project have,
anyway? I found out 4 February 1976 that there was at least one
more. John Spinks called me (I think from the Secretary's Office
at that time, although he was later in the Office of Endangered
Species) to ask why the phosphate lease area had not been included
as condor "critical habitat." Well, here was an issue
we hadn't discussed before. The reason we were discussing it now
was because the new issue of the "Defenders of Wildlife"
magazine had an article provocatively titled "Government
Flimflam Threatens the Condor." The writer of the article
alleged that the Final EIS had been tampered with so that "feeding
and roosting sites near the mine area had mysteriously vanished
from the map, effectively obscuring the relationship of the mine
to condor requirements." He didn't know how it had happened,
but could "only assume that somebody in the California
offices of either BLM or Fish and Wildlife made promises about
the content of the EIS, and found the promises impossible to keep
without subterfuge." He chided the long-absent Fred Sibley
for his "early, costly blunder" of leaving the mine
site outside the limits of the Sespe Piru "condor study area"
(an administrative designation drawn up in the late 1960s), thereby
"excluding important nesting, roosting, and activity sites."
(It didn't.) He finished up by noting the incredible coincidence
that the eastern boundary of the mineral lease area and the west
boundary of condor "critical habitat" were the same,
leaving the mine site conveniently outside the area of concern
for condor preservation. And who was this "unscrupulous -
but as yet unnamed - federal bureaucrat who apparently modified
a government document to hide the potential impacts of mining
in the condor's range"? Gee, I wonder.
For you to understand what I tried to explain
to John Spinks over the phone that day, we need to go over a little
history. When the 1951 oil drilling restrictions were put on the
Sespe Condor Sanctuary, it was obvious that a lot of very important
condor nesting habitat adjacent to the Sanctuary was still open
to potentially detrimental mining and mineral leasing activity.
As a result of Fred Sibley's work on condor disturbance factors,
the Bureau of Land Management in 1970 placed a moratorium on all
mineral leasing activities within a Sespe-Piru "study area"
that seemed to contain the habitat most important to condors.
This was only an administrative action, without the weight of
law, but was a good faith effort to preserve the condors' options
until more definitive studies could be done. It was never applied
to condor use areas outside the main Sespe-Piru, so there were
in fact a number of condor nesting and roosting areas (and essentially
all the important condor feeding areas) not included in the moratorium.
The passage of the Endangered Species Act of 1973 (Public Law
93-205) introduced the term "critical habitat" into
the vocabulary of endangered species preservation. As written
in Section 7 of the Act, the term seemed harmless enough. All
the law said was that no Federal agency could do anything - or
cause anything to be done - that might further jeopardize an endangered
species "or its critical habitat." There was
no definition of critical habitat in the Act, and no further Congressional
guidance on what was truly intended. It was up to the Fish and
Wildlife Service to somehow define what was critical for each
species designated as endangered on the Federal list. That seemed
easy for a desert pupfish that lived in only one or two small
springs, but what did you do with a bird that ranged over 10.8
million acres of mixed government and private land?
The condor was the guinea pig (now, doesn't
that conjure up an interesting picture?) for critical habitat
designation. No one had yet prepared a critical habitat delineation
for any species, and no guidance was forthcoming from the Washington
Office. Therefore, we on the Condor Technical Committee had to
develop our own concept of critical habitat before we could begin
to draw lines on any map. Clearly, we couldn't encompass the entire
condor range, so we concentrated on the three basic habitat needs:
nesting, overnight roosting, and feeding. We considered all recently-used
nesting sites vital, so we used the already-delineated Sespe-Piru
"study area" as one segment of critical habitat, then
drew similar boxes around several other known nesting areas. Specific
roosting sites were presumably less important than nest sites,
but there were still several locations that had long traditions
of use. We put boxes around them, too.
Feeding areas were more of a problem. Condors
could feed anywhere they found a carcass. Even within those districts
that were the most used and had the longest tradition of use (Tejon
Ranch, the Glennville area, etc.), condor occupancy was more dependent
on food on a given day than on any particular acre of ground.
With nesting and roosting areas, we had Sibley's disturbance distances
to give us an approximation of what kind of buffer we needed.
We had no such limits for feeding habitat. What we finally did
was draw large circles around the three most highly-used rangeland
areas, and said that "some areas of open range with adequate
food and limited development and disturbance must be preserved
in each of the... regions."
So, what about the mysteriously convenient
shared line between the west end of the Sespe-Piru critical habitat
unit and the east end of the phosphate lease area? Sheer coincidence.
The boundary of the Sespe-Piru unit had been drawn before the
U. S. Gypsum application was made, and was placed on a convenient
legally-definable section line over 1 1/2 miles from the nearest
condor nest site.
(The whole topic of critical habitat at Pine Mountain was really
not a legitimate issue, at all. Just because a Federal activity
occurs outside of designated critical habitat does not mean that
it is exempt from review under the Endangered Species Act. Similarly,
just because a Federal activity occurs within critical habitat
boundaries does not mean the activity can't occur there. Critical
habitat merely warns all Federal agencies that they may be considering
actions that would be detrimental to an endangered species. In
the case of the Pine Mountain phosphate mine, my conclusions were
based on the distance from condor nest and roost sites, not the
critical habitat line.)
Obviously, I did not convince John Spinks,
as my journal for 25 February 1976 notes: "At home, received
a phone call from Dave Marshall and Ron Skoog (Office of Endangered
Species) re the phosphate lease. They are still concerned that
the lease area and the critical habitat boundaries coincide. I
explained again, on the basis of habitat and 1 1/2 mile radius.
When I got to the office, I drafted and sent another report to
Patuxent on the relationship of the phosphate lease and critical
habitat."
I didn't hear any more about the subject for the next couple weeks,
and I was beginning to think that I had finally got my point across.
I found out I was wrong while attending a 17 March 1976 peregrine
falcon recovery symposium in Denver. I was standing in the hall
between program sessions, when a man I had never met and had seen
for the first time the previous day walked up to me. Without preamble,
he said, "There are some people in Washington who think
you're a real son of a bitch."
Not really the best way to kick off a new friendship, but I knew
who he was, so I had a good idea what he was talking about. He
was Assistant Director of Fish and Wildlife Service, and boss
over the Office of Endangered Species. I was certainly surprised
by the challenge, but I recovered quickly, and said something
like: "That may be, but I'm the only Condor Expert you've
got, and I know a whole lot more about the situation than anybody
else." That prompted two or three minutes of discussion of
condors, strip mines, and critical habitat. Then, he said: "You
really believe you're right?" I said that I did. "Well,
fuck 'em!" he said, then turned and walked off.
That was the end of the critical habitat
discussions (at least, with me), and almost the last of my involvement
with the phosphate mine proposal. In late April 1975, I received
a phone call from a representative of the Natural Resources Defense
Council. She asked some questions about condors and the phosphate
mine, and said she'd call back if she needed anything else. (She
never did.) In early May 1975, a Bureau of Land Management employee
called me, and said she had been told (by whom?) to add three
condor roosts to their map of the phosphate lease environs. (I
told her the roosts didn't exist.) Then, in late July 1975, I
went to the site as part of a "show-me trip" for a delegation
from Interior and the Forest Service. The next day, I sat in on
one more public hearing on the proposal. That was my last official
act involving the phosphate mine.
U. S. Gypsum never mined at Pine Mountain. I don't know if there
was ever a Department of Interior denial of the permit, or if
U. S. Gypsum just gave up. I'm glad the mine isn't there; it was
a terrible idea from the start, but it never was a condor issue.