The end of the trail? - September 14, 2003

Mail Tribune (Medford, OR — Wayback)

2003-10-03

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P/SUNNY Temp: 79 °F Wind: CLM at 0 mph Thursday, October 2, 2003   SECTIONS Home Page Local News Sports Business Obituaries   Life   Opinion - Politics   AP News   Weather   Classified   Archives   Site Map   EXTRA HomeLife Magazine Joy Magazine Tempo A & E RogueValleyAutoFinder   RogueValleyHomeFinder   Real Estate Showcase   Wellness Connection   Newspaper in Education   Prime Times   Outdoor Journal   Personals   Movie Times   TV Times   E The People   CLASSIFIEDS Find a Car Find a Home Find a Job Find Everything  E SOUTHERN OREGON Automotive Communities   Entertainment   Publications   Recreation   Calendar   ABOUT US FAQ What's New Advertise Home Delivery Classified Ad Employment Contact Us Media Kit Email Story to a Friend September 14, 2003 Bob Miller, whose family has run cattle in the Soda Mountain area since the late 1800s, stands in Mayfields Gardens, a meadow on private land within the monument where cattle had grazed that morning. Mail Tribune / Jim Craven The end of the trail? Cattle ranchers say cows have grazed on Soda Mountain for generations without harming the environment Stories By PAUL FATTIG Mail Tribune SODA MOUNTAIN — The sun-soaked skin on the back of Bob Miller’s hands resembles worn saddle leather. Sinewy fingers strong as rawhide, their knuckles knotted by years of punching cattle, grip the pickup truck’s steering wheel. But it’s the voice rougher than a steel rasp on wood that corrals you. "My great-grandfather first started running cattle on Soda Mountain in the late 1800s," says Miller, 63, as his truck rumbles along a dirt road in the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument. Advertisement "My grandfather ran cattle there, as did my parents behind him," he says. "And I’ve taken over for my parents." Now he worries that his family’s way of life, along with that of other ranching families, may be approaching the end of the trail. Even before the creation of the monument on June 9, 2000, environmental activists and others raised objections to cattle grazing on the U.S. Bureau of Land Management forestland. They say it causes erosion, pollutes waterways, introduces noxious weeds and destroys native vegetation. The BLM has launched a study to decide the future of cattle grazing on the 52,000-acre monument. None of that sits well with Miller. Miller is known for his straight-talking, no-nonsense approach to life. He doesn’t have a lot of time for preservationists — or journalists, for that matter. "The general public doesn’t understand what we’re all about because they are never shown our side in the media," he says. "The media is full of stories that our natural resources are in poor condition." He firmly believes cattle, when managed properly, don’t harm the environment. He says grazing can enhance an area by reducing fire danger along with underbrush. "People today think grazing is detrimental to the environment and they want cattle off," he says. "We’re under a microscope here because of all the publicity focusing on the monument." The local controversy reflects a monumental debate riding throughout the West over the historic practice of allowing cattle to feed on public land. "We sure aren’t the only ones facing this problem," he says. "Ranchers all over are in the same boat." Miller’s family represents the Old West, a world in which cattle were traditionally at home on the range. "I feel my family has been doing something constructive over the years," he says. "They came here and helped settle the country. My family and many others like them helped build it, helped make it a productive society for people to live in. "The fact a lot of people have come here to live tells me they must have done something right." Born in 1940 in Ashland, where he graduated from high school in 1958, Miller went to Oregon State University to earn a degree in agriculture. He served four years as an OSU extension agent in Harney County before returning to his roots. He and his wife, Patricia, own the Beswick Ranch in Montague, Calif., but have continued running cattle on open range in the Soda Mountain area. Their daughter and her husband own a ranch in Butte Valley, Calif. A son died in a automobile accident while in high school. Although Miller, citing health and economic concerns, isn’t running cattle on the monument this year, he has a grazing right that allows up to 150 of his cows on Soda Mountain. The grazing season begins in early spring and continues through mid-October, although the season depends on foliage production in a given area. "I’ve run cattle through all of what is now the monument at one time or another," he says. "My father had various ranches around Ashland over the years, so we always had cattle up here in the summer." His father, Robert E. Miller Sr., died early this year at age 82 after working as a rancher all his adult life. He owned or leased numerous ranches in Jackson and Siskiyou counties, including the Box-O Ranch on Jenny Creek since purchased by Uncle Sam. It is now part of the monument. Bob Miller’s mother, Goldie, 84, still rides horses. "The old-timers utilized the land and tried to take care of it," Miller says. "They tried to make it produce for society. They created an economic base for our area." That resource-based philosophy, long embraced by society, is now being rejected, he says. "We live in a society today that is managed more by politics and emotion than by productivity," he says. When he looks at the horizon, he warns that the United States is galloping toward a future where it cannot produce enough food for its own people because of regulations reining in ranchers and other food-producers. As he drives into the monument, Miller stops to observe berries the color of blue sky hanging heavy on elderberry trees. The berries are a favorite target of bears come fall, but cattle also eat their leaves, he says. "At the end of the season, you’ll often see the elderberries broken down — animals eat them, especially the bears," he says. "But they grow back real well." He describes ranchers he has known over the decades as honest, hard-working people who continually strive to protect the environment that provides forage for cattle. As evidence, he cites the environmental diversity in the monument. "You can’t rape, pillage and burn a living out of the land and expect it to be there very long," Miller says. While he acknowledges there have been some who have come — and gone — with that attitude, they are not unique to ranching, he says. Heading on down the road, he observes that it’s understandable why many have moved to the region and want to protect its natural beauty. "What they don’t realize is that we ranchers have enjoyed this beauty and appreciated it for many years and have been trying to take care of it," he says. "They don’t understand what it takes to take care of it." Ranchers routinely move the cattle away from heavily grazed areas and respond to private property owners’ concerns about cattle wandering onto their land, he says. Miller is part of a local herd of frustrated ranchers. Don Rowlett, a former business executive who has owned and operated the Box R Ranch in Greensprings for 30 years, agrees their lifestyle is being fenced in by forces led by what he believes are environmental extremists nationwide. "It’s much bigger than this little monument," says Rowlett, who accompanied Miller and fellow rancher Jennifer Walt on the ride. "If I’m OK in Klamath County now, but get dumped out of here, then I’m next over there. And every rangeman in the West understands that. "They are coming after us, and they’ve got more money and time than we have," he adds. Like Miller, he bristles at those who condemn ranchers and their way of life. "Go look at my place. Go look at her place. Go look at his place," Rowlett insists, then adds, "Then tell me we don’t care. ... Telling us we don’t care is the highest insult from an environmentalist to a rancher." Rowlett’s main grazing allotment on public lands today is in Klamath County. His local grazing allotment was reduced a decade ago, he says. "Whatever happens here affects all of us." Walt, whose family owns the Box D Ranch bordering the monument, is an attorney in San Francisco when she isn’t working on her ranch. The Walts are running 119 cows on monument land this season. The right to graze cattle on federal land came with the ranch they purchased a decade ago, she says. "It’s an absolute crime this lifestyle is under attack, one that the whole West was all about," she says. "I think we would be very shortsighted and foolish to throw away that heritage." Her father, the late Harold Walt, was a forester and economist who served as head of the California Department of Forestry in the 1980s. He left a legacy of practicing good land stewardship which continues, she says. "I personally think there is absolutely nothing inconsistent with grazing cattle in the monument and maintaining the biodiversity and the native species which are the concerns expressed in the proclamation," she says. While she doesn’t portray herself as a cattle expert, she sees folks like Miller and Rowlett as ones to ride the range with. "Their livelihood depends on this range staying in good condition," she says. "They are very good stewards of the land. It’s not in their interest to do anything that undermines the quality of the land." Miller pulls up to a parcel of Boise Corp. land, one of several private holdings within the monument. The land is leased for grazing, he says. Known as Mayfields Gardens, the mountain meadow is in the Keene Creek drainage. Young willows thrive along the banks; lush grass fills the meadow. Cattle had browsed in the meadow earlier that morning. "The cattle haven’t destroyed this," Rowlett says. "A lot of times the cattle will hit a mountain meadow if there is no forage out beyond. But this tells me the cattle have plenty of forage out where they have been grazing." The ranchers aren’t denying there are places where cows have caused environmental damage. But they say that should be taken into context. "Just because you may occasionally see an area in the monument that may not look that good, you’ve got to remember nature is resilient," Miller says. "You’ve got to look at the broad picture. "You show me where we are screwing up and we’ll sure work on a way to fix it," he says. "But don’t come here and tell me you want the cows off because you saw a pile of cow manure somewhere." While he acknowledges that cattle sometimes trample an area, he notes that it is nothing compared to periodic bed-changing floods along streambanks. "Mother Nature ever so often rips the bottom out of this country and lowers the elevation of these creeks," he says, citing the 1964 flood as an example. Likewise, while there have been droughts which brought cattle into the meadows where they mowed the grass to stubble, the grass has always grown back, he says. Reining in his truck to point it toward Hobart Peak, Miller estimates he puts about $200,000 annually into the local economy. Given the theory that money changes hands about seven times in a community, he figures he puts about $1.4 million into the local economy each year. "Whether they are eating my beef or not, I’m still out there buying parts, buying fuel, hiring people, spending money," he says. "If I’m shut down, there is that much money taken out of the economy. And I’m only a small part of it." Reflecting on his lifestyle as the pickup truck heads deeper into the monument, Miller admits he is a little angry. "One of the biggest frustrations in my lifetime is that I went to college, saw some other areas and thought I could come back here and do good," he says. "But, regardless of what we’ve done to make it a properly functioning area, we are dealing with emotion and politics. "I’d sure hate to see the end of a lifestyle of people who tried to build something like this," he adds. "It’s just not right." Before stopping again, he points to the monument’s beauty, which he believes was produced in part by cattle grazing over the last century. "That resource will deteriorate when they take cattle off these ranges," he predicts. "But if the public and the political arena is such they don’t want them here, then they will have to learn the hard way." Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] Printer Friendly Version   Email Story to a Friend Subscribe Archive: Click to Search Mail Tribune Home Local News  | Sports  | Business  | Obituaries  | Life Opinion - Politics | AP News | Archives  |  Site Map   E Southern Oregon  | Classified   Copyright © 1997-2003 Mail Tribune. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions Website Feedback A D V E R T I S E R S SPECIAL SECTIONS Rogue Valley Auto Finder Rogue Valley Job Finder --> Rogue Valley Home Finder Joy Magazine Homelife Magazine Tempo Real Estate Showcase Food for Thought Hike of the Week Wellness Connection Outdoor Journal Moving to Southern Oregon? Volunteer Openings Prime Times