ultimately rejected. Why? Because he regards it as a violation of both his personal values and fourth-generation heritage. Lucas has sympathy for ranchers who have gotten out of the cattle business and, in some cases, been forced to sell their beloved pieces of terra firma due to tough economics. Market forces, commodity prices that haven’t kept pace with rising operation costs, ranch kids not wanting to toil as hard as their parents, tensions with environmentalists, and the hassles of
“I’ve had people tell me I’m crazy. But you know what? I do feel rich, because I’m still able to live my dream.” — Rancher Bob Lucas
trying to run cows through fragmented landscapes—all have taken their toll. For Lucas, he thinks of his rancher parents who imparted a bit of wisdom almost half a century ago, well before Jackson Hole became discovered as a fashionable place for affluent lifestyle pilgrims. “They [his parents] used to say it’s more important to be good by your word than gauging success only on making all kinds of money, because money can’t buy happiness,” he says. “I’ve had people tell me I’m crazy. But you know 84
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what? I do feel rich, because I’m still able to live my dream.” To keep the dream alive, the Lucases not long ago struck an innovative deal with the Jackson Hole Land Trust and the Nature Conservancy. In exchange for putting their historic South Park ranch, the U Lazy U, under a conservation easement—ensuring it will remain as pastoral open space and wildlife habitat forever— they gained title to six thousand acres of private and public grazing lands near Dubois held by the Nature Conservancy. Now, every summer, they truck and turn out their Jackson Hole-born beef cows at Ramshorn Ranch, watching over them vigilantly on horseback. A conservation easement is a restriction that a property owner voluntarily attaches to the deed, limiting what kind of development can occur. It’s a tool, replete with estate tax advantages, that almost single-handedly is responsible for protecting the scenic tapestry of private land that local residents, visitors, and the valley’s iconic wildlife treasure. The Lucases’ U Lazy U fronts two miles of the Snake River and has a spring creek running through it. It’s home to elk, moose, mule deer, trumpeter swans, bald eagles, herons, and river otters, among many other animals. HERE IN JACKSON Hole, the bumper sticker “Cows Not Condos” isn’t a hollow slogan. The Teton County Commission is now wrestling with the details of a new
The Lucases’ U Lazy U Ranch fronts two miles of the Snake River and is home to elk, moose, mule deer, trumpeter swans, bald eagles, herons, river otters, and many other animals. The family placed the property under a conservation easement, ensuring it will remain pastoral open space and wildlife habitat forever.
comprehensive land-use plan—one of the most foresighted across the West— that tries to keep large pieces of private land intact. Conservation easements, incentives offered for clustering development, and allowing ranchers to divest tiny pieces of their land to generate income to stay afloat are all part of the mix. “We must always remember that the conservation coin has two sides,” says Dennis Glick, cofounder of the Bozeman, Montana-based FutureWest, a think-tank devoted to land-use planning. “One side identifies lands that are critical for protecting the natural assets that make a community like Jackson Hole special. The other side points to lands that are appropriate for development to accommodate growth. Fortunately, science is making us smarter to differentiate one side of the coin from the other.” What residents of Jackson Hole often fail to realize is that the kinds of discussions occurring in Teton County are far more sophisticated than almost anywhere else. “Regionally and perhaps West-wide, Teton County has done an exceptional job of protecting private land compared to many of its neighbors,” Glick says. “They’ve done it through the