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INTERNt1TIONAL WILIDERNESS ALLOCATION, MANAGEMENT, AND RESEARCH ^R M1^ryr

2.

John C. Hendee Vance G. Martin

a symposium of the

Published by the International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation, in cooperation with the University of Idaho Wilderness Research Center.


INTERNATIONAL WILDERNESS ALLOCATION, MANAGEMENT, AND RESEARCH

Proceedings of a symposium during the 5th World Wilderness Congress, Tromso, Norway, September 1993.

John C. Hendee Dean College of Forestry, Wildlife and Range Sciences University of Idaho, USA Vance G. Martin President International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation Colorado, USA

Published with the financial support of:

World Heritage Centre (UNESCO) (Paris) and with the assistance of

USDI Bureau of Land Management USDA Forest Service USDI National Parks Service


International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research

Published March 1994

Text Editing: Lisa Williamson, with assistance from Amy Lockwood Layout and Design: Deidre Enright

For more information or to place orders: The WILD Foundation 211 West Magnolia Street Fort Collins, Colorado, USA 80521 The Wilderness Research Center University of Idaho Moscow, Idaho, USA 83843

Cost: $19.50, plus $3.00 postage and packing. Cover photo courtesy of Robin Buzza, Arctic Wilderness Experience. Whenever possible, authors supplied their papers as electronic recordings. Therefore, they are responsible for content and accuracy. Final text was slightly edited for consistency and clarification. For questions on text and figures, please contact individual authors.


Table of Contents Foreword by symposium co-conveners, John C. Hendee and Vance G. Martin.

Part 1: International Wilderness Allocation and Management .............................................. 1 WILDERNESS VALUES AND WORLD HERITAGE SITES .................................................. 2 HAROLD EIDSVIK

CREATION OF CANADIAN NATIONAL PARKS IN CONCERT WITH SETTLEMENT OF ABORIGINAL LAND CLAIMS ..................................................... 6 GORDON HAMRE

WILDERNESS SITUATION IN BRITISH COLUMBIA

^

12

TERIE VOLD, HAROLD EIDSVIK, KRIS KENNE7T

PLANNING THE ALLOCATION OF PROTECTED AREAS IN BRITISH COLUMBIA ....................................................................................................... 18 KRIS KENNETT

EVOLUTION OF WILDERNESS CONCEPTS IN AUSTRALIA ........................................... 22 JONATHAN MILLER

THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS INVENTORY: WILDERNESS IDENTIFICATION, ASSESSMENT, AND MONITORING IN AUSTRALIA ........................................................ 31 ROB LESSLIE

THE AUSTRALIAN SYSTEM OF COMMUNITY SUPPORT FOR NATIONAL PARKS AND WILDLIFE ....................................................................................................... 37 DENE CORDES

COMMUNITY MANAGEMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES IN WILDLAND AREAS: THE KWAZULU EXPERIENCE ................................................... 43 WAYNE ELLIOTT, NICK STEELE

INTEGRATING CONSERVATION AND SUSTAINABLE RURAL DEVELOPMENT AT SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE ............................................ 48 ROLAND GOETZ, K. RALF DEDEKIND

A MINING THREAT TO THE GREATER ST LUCIA WETLAND PARK— THE LAST COASTAL WILDERNESS IN EASTERN SOUTH AFRICA .............................. 58 WILLIAM BAINBRIDGE

APPLYING RESEARCH TO PARK PLANNING AND MANAGEMENT: A CASE STUDY OF KENYA'S MARA NATIONAL RESERVE .......................................... 77 WESLEY HENRY, DAVID WESTERN

A CIRCUMPOLAR BIOSPHERE RESERVE NETWORK FOR MONITORING CHANGE .............................................................................................. 83 DALE TA YLOR, PAUL HAER TEL


MANAGEMENT AND PLANNING OF THE WILDERNESS AREAS IN FINLAND ........... 88 TAPIO TYNYS

Part 2: WildernessManagement ............................................................................................ 93 BUREAU OF LAND MANAGEMENT WILDERNESS INVENTORY ANDREVIEW PROGRAM ..................................................................................................... 94 KEITH CORRIGALL

WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT PLANNING^ CONTRADICTORY OR COMPLEMENTARY CONCEPT?

99

ERIC FINSTICK, CLAIRE PA YNE, MARK YOUNG

THE ROLE OF WILDERNESS IN MAINTAINING BIOLOGICAL DIVERSITY ................ 105 JOHN DENNIS

INTEGRATING MANAGEMENT OF ECOLOGICAL AND CULTURAL DIVERSITY IN WILDERNESS .............................................................. 110 BILL OVERBA UGH, ANGELA WEST BERGER

SUBSISTENCE IN ALASKA WILDERNESS ...................................................................... 115 BRUCE VAN ZEE, HENRY MAKARKA, FRED CLARK, PA TRICK REED, LOIS SHERRICK ZIEMANN

THE QUETICO-SUPERIOR ECOSYSTEM: AN INTERNATIONAL WILDERNESS COMPLEX, FACING ISSUES OF NATIVE PEOPLE'S USE ................................................................................................ 120 KEVIN PROESCHOLDT

WILDERNESS AND THE WORKING LANDSCAPE: A CASE STUDY OF THE ADIRONDACK PARK ............................................................... 128 THOMASPASQUARELLO, ROBERTBUERGER, GARYRANDORF

WILDERNESS USE AND PRESERVATION: A PROPOSED ADIRONDACK WILDERNESS PLANNING STRATEGY .......................... 133 CHAD DA W S O N, K R I S T O FE R A L B E R G A, MJ C HA E L WA S H B UR N

CRUISE SHIPS AT ALASKA'S WILDERNESS FRONTIER: PROTECTING A WILDERNESS VIEWING EXPERIENCE ................................................ 138 GARY VEQUIST

MANAGEMENT OF THE ARCTIC NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE .............................. 142 DAVID OLSEN

WILDERNESS RIVER MANAGEMENT IN ALASKA ........................................................ 145 JACKMOSBY

APPLYING THE HARVEST REFUGIA CONCEPT IN MANAGING FOR SUSTAINABLE SUBSISTENCE USES IN WILDERNESS AREAS ........................... 153 GARY DAVIS, ALAN S C HMI E R E R


PROTECTED AREAS ON THE HIGH SEAS AND THE CASE FOR MARINE WILDERNESS ................................................................. 161 MAXINE MCCLOSKEY

Part 3: Wilderness Management and Monitoring ............................................................... 168 WILDERNESS IN THE LANDSCAPE: A FIRE MANAGEMENT AND AIR QUALITY CASE STUDY .......................................... 169 SUSAN £4 TER

APPLICATION OF THE LIMITS OF ACCEPTABLE CHANGE PLANNING PROCESS IN USDA FOREST SERVICE WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT ......................................... 186 EDWIN KRUMPE, GERALD STOKES

A MONITORING STRATEGY FOR THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS PRESERVATION SYSTEM .................................. 192 PETER LANDRES, DAVID COLE, ALAN WATSON

PROTECTING NATURAL QUIET: A CASE STUDY OF GRAND CANYON NATIONAL PARK ............................................. 198 WESLEY HENRY, ROBERT CHANDLER, RICHARD ERNENWEIN

Part 4: Use of Wilderness for Personal Growth, Therapy, and Education ........................ 204 ON CROSSING AND NOT CROSSING THE WILDERNESS BOUNDARY ...................... 205 ROBERT GREENWAY

THE WILDERNESS DISCOVERY PROGRAM FOR POVERTY YOUTH IN THE USDA FOREST SERVICE—CURLEW JOB CORPS CONSERVATION CENTER IN THE COLVILLE NATIONAL FOREST ........................... 217 RANDALL PITSTICK, JOHN HENDEE, IVY LANTHIER

PERSPECTIVES ON WILDERNESS: A NEW TEST OF RESTORATIVE ENVIRONMENTS THEORY

.......................................

222

TERRY HARTIG, GARY EVANS, TOMMY GARLING, DEBORAH DAVIS

THE PSYCHOLOGY AND FUNCTIONS OF WILDERNESS SOLITUDE ......................... 227 WILLIAM HAMMITT

THE CAPACITY TO BE ALONE: WILDERNESS SOLITUDE AND GROWTH OF THE SELF

...............................................

234

.............................................................

240

STEVE HOLLENHORST, ERNEST FRANK, III, ALAN WATSON

IDENTITY AND THE EXPERIENCE OF WILDERNESS: ANALYSIS OF EXPERIENCE NARRATIVES FROM AUSTRALIA AND THE UNITED STATES MICHAEL PATTERSON, DANIEL WILLIAMS, LEA SCHERL


PERSONAL GROWTH BY LEARNING- VERSUS PERFORMANCE-ORIENTED PARTICIPANTS IN OUTWARD BOUND ........................................................................... 247 JAMES TANGEN-FOSTER, LAUREL TANGEN-FOSTER

WILDERNESS CIVILITY: COOPERATION AND COORDINATION IN THE WILDERNESS ..................................... 254 JOHN HEYWOOD

THE SOCIAL WILDERNESS IN THE MINDS AND CULTURE OFTHE FINNISH PEOPLE .................................................................................................. 259 VILLE HALLIKAINEN

Part 5: Wilderness Education, Values, and Ethics ..............................................................267 LEADERSHIP EXCELLENCE FOR MANAGING AMERICA'S WILDERNESS RESOURCES .......................................... 268 LYLE LAVERTY

WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT BY MAIL: A HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL TRAINING COURSE APPLICABLE TO WILDLAND MANAGERS WORLDWIDE ..................................................................... 272 DAVID PORTER, KEITH CORRIGALL

WILDERNESS EDUCATION IN THE UNITED STATES: DO WE TEACH LOW-IMPACT KNOWLEDGE, BEHAVIOR, OR A WILDERNESS ETHIC? .............................................................................................. 276 JOSEPH PASSINEA U, JOSEPH ROGGENBUCK, CHRISTOPHER STUBBS

WOMEN'S INVOLVEMENT IN ADVENTURE ACTIVITIES ............................................ 284 NORMAN MC I N T YR E, JA C KI E KI E 6 i ^A , JOSEPHINE BURDEN

Part 6: Wilderness Research ................................................................................................. 291

WILDERNESS RESEARCH: A MODEL OF WILDERNESS SCIENCE FOR THE 21ST CENTURY ................................ 292 ALAN EWERT, DEBORAH CARR

AN ASSESSMENT OF CURRENT RESEARCH IN THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS PRESERVATION SYSTEM ........................................................................ 297 DEBORAH CARR, JOHN HENDEE

MONITORING ECOLOGICAL RESPONSES IN WILDERNESS USING GEOGRAPHIC TECHNOLOGIES ........................................................................... 304 CRISTA CARROLL, DON HINRICHSEN

THE FINNISH WILDERNESS RESEARCH PROGRAMME ............................................... 309 ANNA -LIISA SIPPOLA, JUKKA JOKIMAKI, VILLE HALLIKAINEN, PENT]? SEPPONEN


INTERMOUNTAIN WILDERNESS AREA ECOSYSTEM STUDY: AN ECOLOGICAL NETWORK FOR WILDERNESS GLOBAL CHANGE ASSESSMENT .................................................. 316 ALLEN RIEBA U, FREEMAN SMITH, MICHAEL SF_STAK, L UCINDA SMITH

Poster Papers

............................................................................................................

322

WILDERNESS USE IN AN URBAN-PROXIMATE NATIONAL FOREST ........................ 323 DEBORAH CHAVEZ

FIRE HISTORY AND WHITEBARK PINE RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN A SMALL ROADLESS AREA IN THE NORTHERN ROCKY MOUNTAINS ..................................... 326 MICHAEL MURRAY, STEPHEN BUNTING, PENELOPE MORGAN

THE INFLUENCE OF FOREST MANAGEMENT METHODS ON THE FRUIT BODY PRODUCTION OF LARGER FUNGI ............................................ 332 E. OHENOJA, M. ROI7TO, S. TIKKINEN, A. PAUL US, ANNA-LIISA SIPPOLA


FOREWORD

The 5th World Wilderness Congress, a project of the International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation, convened in Tromso, Norway, 24 September through 1 October 1993. Six hundred delegates from over 25 nations addressed the action-oriented educational, political, scientific, commercial, and cultural aspects of Wild Nature and Sustainable Living in Circumpolar Regions. In addition to plenary sessions and a high-quality cultural program, 10 technical symposia met each day to present and debate the latest information on key topic areas. From the symposium on International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research, 52 papers by 104 authors and co-authors are published in this volume. The authors include wilderness leaders worldwide from land management agencies; environmental organizations; universities; and the scientific community from Norway, the United States, Canada, Australia, Russia, the Republic of South Africa, Finland, and Kenya. Some highlights need to be mentioned, although we do so at the risk of slighting some of the many excellent papers and important topics. The need to integrate the wisdom and views of indigenous people into wilderness allocation and management was a strong theme in 10 papers. If asked to select the one single most important idea from the symposium, we would say it came from the paper by Bill Overbaugh and Angela West Berger on "Integrating Management of Ecological and Cultural Diversity in Wilderness"--the idea being that traditional knowledge and approaches such as oral agreements, aboriginal land use patterns, indigenous communication strategies, and hierarchies of authority can and must be integrated into wilderness management. From discussion of that paper emerged the idea that the need to use traditional knowledge of local indigenous people is an international bridge linking wilderness management worldwide. The power of wilderness as a teacher and classroom for environmental education, human restoration, growth, and development was another strong theme. The papers on solitude by Bill Hammitt and Steve Hollenhorst and others will provide scientific leadership in advancing our understanding of how wilderness functions for personal growth, restoration, and inspiration. Such use of wilderness is growing, and the eight symposium papers on that subject provided new ideas and connections for people operating wilderness experience programs in several countries. Canada and Australia presented their rapid progress on inventorying, planning, proposing, and otherwise structuring their wilderness systems. Finland is particularly noted as having the newest wilderness law, with innovative ventures in wilderness research and management. Two papers described the efforts of wilderness managers in South Africa to integrate people into wilderness landscapes in a third world situation; two other papers on the Adirondack State Park Wilderness in New York described wilderness as a living landscape in the modem world. Their common theme, integrating people into wilderness, may be the ultimate wilderness challenge worldwide. We'd especially like to thank the U.S. wilderness agencies—USDA Forest Service (USFS) and USDI National Park Service (NPS), Bureau of Land Management (BLM), and Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS)--for sponsoring so many papers on their wilderness management efforts and professional innovations.


The USFS authors presented papers on fire ecology and air quality, the limits of acceptable change approach to wilderness planning, a proposed future monitoring strategy, management of subsistence activities and inventory of current research in wilderness; and the new Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute. The NPS authors presented papers on harvest refugia fisheries research with worldwide marine implications, subsistence pre-history, and aboriginal claims in Alaska park wilderness; the circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Network for monitoring change; management attempts to restore and protect quiet in Grand Canyon National Park; park wilderness and biodiversity; managing Arctic wilderness; wilderness rivers; and the use of cruise ships for viewing access to Alaska park wilderness. The BLM authors presented papers on their wilderness inventory and review process, wilderness management planning, integrating biological and ecological diversity in planning, the Wilderness Management Correspondence Study Course, and monitoring wilderness to detect global change. David Olsen, FWS Assistant Director, presented a paper on the eight-million-acre Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Two other papers focused on threats to wilderness—in the Lake St Lucia area in South Africa and in a much different context, in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Minnesota. The essence of what we learned is that steady progress is being made in wilderness allocation, management, and research around the world, but we were continually reminded not to take any wilderness area for granted. Thanks are due to many people: authors, presenters, and delegates for their participation in the congress, especially to those who came so far from Australia, South Africa, Canada, and beyond; to the state and federal agencies and universities that sent so many delegates; to the Norwegian hosts and hostesses of the Congress; and to all the Norwegian people for their gracious hospitality. Thanks also goes to our wilderness friend in the United States, Clara Bleak, whose generosity enabled 12 University of Idaho students to attend the Congress. The presence of students helps remind all of us that the ultimate purpose of this event is to educate. Finally, we acknowledge with sincere appreciation the financial support of the UNESCO World Heritage Center (Paris) for publication of these proceedings. The following people gave an extra effort to assure the success of the symposium: John C. Hendee, Moscow, Idaho, USA Vance G. Martin, Fort Collins, Colorado, USA March 1994


Executive Facilitators for Symposium Sessions. Posters. and Exhibits Deborah Carr, Staff Assistant, Wilderness Research, USDA Forest Service Randall Pitstick, Doctoral Candidate, University of Idaho

International Wilderness Allocation and Management

Moderator: Jerry Stokes, National Coordinator for Wilderness Planning, USDA Forest Service Facilitator: Daniel Williams, Assistant Professor of Forest Recreation, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University

Wilderness Management Moderator: Wesley Henry, Wilderness Coordinator, USDI National Park Service Facilitator: Thomas Pasquarello, Chair, Department of Political Science, State University

of New York

Wilderness Management and Monitoring Moderator: Keith Corrigall, National Wilderness Program Leader, USDI Bureau of Land Management Facilitator: Alan Schmierer, Resource Specialist, Regional Office, USDI National Park Service Use of Wilderness for Personal Growth, Therapy, and Education

Moderator: Joseph Roggenbuck, Professor of Forest Recreation, Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University Facilitator: Kristin Hunt, Partner, Hunt and Hunt Consultants; Graduate Student, Communications, University of Idaho Wilderness Education, Values, and Ethics

Moderator:Joseph Passineau, Associate Professor of Environmental Education, University of Wisconsin Wilderness Research

Moderator: Alan Ewert, Program Leader, Wilderness, Recreation, and Cultural Research, USDA Forest Service Facilitator: John Heywood, School of Natural Resources, Ohio State University

Special thanks goes to Ms Nancy Matthews (University of Idaho) for her administrative excellence, and to Charlotte Winsnes, Merethe Henricksson, and Gerd Schwalenstocker of the 5th WWC Secretariat for all their help.


Part 1: International Wilderness Allocation and Management


WILDERNESS VALUES AND WORLD HERITAGE SITES HAROLD EIDSVIK

The Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage was adopted by UNESCO's General Conference in 1972, some twenty years ago. There are now 134 States Parties to the Convention, and 378 sites have been listed. Of the listed sites, 87 are classed as natural areas, 15 are both natural and cultural, and the balance are cultural. The Convention had its origin in the fertile mind of Russell Train and was formalized through the joint efforts of the World Conservation Union (IUCN) and UNESCO. It includes the listing of areas of Outstanding Universal Value, as well as provisions for funding and technical assistance to States Parties.

WORLD HERITAGE AND WILDERNESS VALUES The World Heritage List includes some of the world's greatest wild places, some of which have been designated wilderness and others which are de-facto wilderness protected in National Parks or other forms of protected areas. The List includes for example, the Tasmanian Wilderness in Australia; the Selous, Salonga, and Serengeti Parks in Africa; and the Darien, Manu, and Rio Abiseo in Latin America. In North America, Yellowstone, the Kluane/ Wrangell-St Elias, and Wood Buffalo are included. There are more than 63,000,000 hectares of world-class wilderness included in 43 World Heritage sites that are over 100,000 hectares in size. (See Appendix 1.) This is an area slightly smaller than the area of Norway and Finland combined, greater than the area of France, and twice the size of Italy. The largest of the World Heritage sites in the St Elias Range of Canada and the United States contain more than 8,000,000 hectares--an area twice the size of

Switzerland. Two sites in the Sahel, Tassili N'Ajjer and Air and Tenere, are each over 7,000,000 hectares in size. The selection criteria for wilderness areas and World Heritage sites are quite similar. At the 4th World Wilderness Congress (Colorado, 1987), Roderick Nash listed several criteria for protecting wilderness: heritage values, cultural values, spiritual values, scientific values, and psychological values. He felt that these were the fundamental values that could be used as a basis for wilderness identification. The selection criteria for World Heritage sites are set out in the Convention and in its Operational Guidelines. Essentially, they are areas of "outstanding universal value" from the point of view of science, conservation, or natural beauty (Article 2). The technical evaluation of sites nominated for the List are carried out by the IUCN using the following four principal criteria. The sites must: be outstanding examples represent ing major stages of Earth's history, including the record of life, significant on-going geological processes in the development of a landform, or significant geomorphic or physiographic features; or 2. be outstanding examples representing significant on-going ecological and biological processes in the evolution and development of terrestrial, fresh water, coastal, and marine ecosystems and communities of plants and animals; or 3. contain superlative natural phenomena or areas of exceptional natural beauty and aesthetic importance; or


4. contain the most important and significant natural habitats for in-situ conservation of biological diversity, including those containing threatened species of outstanding universal value from the point of view of science or conservation. With the exception of cultural sites that have an anthropocentric base, World Heritage sites maintain many wilderness values as undisturbed natural areas with high biological diversity. Governments make a moral commitment to maintaining these values. They do not always, however, have the financial, technical, or political skills to ensure effective management. The ability to alleviate these conditions is perhaps the major flaw of the Convention. WORLD HERITAGE TRUST As it was originally conceived, the Convention was to become a Trust that would assist developing countries in maintaining extensive protected areas on behalf of the world. The World Heritage Fund was established. However, with only approximately $2,500,000 available annually, it can merely serve as a minor funding catalyst for the 378 sites on the World Heritage List. Many of the World Heritage wilderness areas in developing countries suffer from financial shortfalls. In one country, the protected area staff have not been paid for four months. In another country, the government has advised the World Heritage Centre that they no longer have administrative control over a large World Heritage site and have requested the establishment of a Trust to manage the area. In many other countries, military action has absorbed all available resources. Meanwhile, many of these wild areas remain under threat from poaching and habitat destruction. THE GLOBAL ENVIRONMENT FACILITY AND TRUST The Global Environment Facility (GEF) was established at the 1992 Rio Earth Summit as the funding mechanism for the Conventions on Climate Change and Biological Diversity. Several pilot projects have been carried out to test funding methods for the conservation of biological

diversity. They include trust funds in Bhutan, Mexico, and Peru. The situation is complex, and the Administrators of the GEF seek situations where additional costs are imposed on a country to fulfill internationally created obligations. Thus, World Heritage sites with high biological diversity would appear to be prime candidates for such GEF funding. The GEF is still evolving, and its $2 to $3 billion fund is currently administered by a combination of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), The World Bank, and the United Nations Environment Programme. Funding under the GEF requires the government responsible for management of the protected area to approach the designated UNDP representative to officially initiate the funding process. While on the surface this appears reasonably straight forward, it is in reality more complex, requiring the development of appropriate projects and documenting the costs involved. ACTION NEEDED In addition to action needed related to specific sites, there is a need to convince the donor parties to the GEF to assign a priority to the funding of established World Heritage sites and wilderness areas with high biological diversity. As noted earlier, there are 43 World Heritage sites with world-class wilderness values. In addition, about 60 areas are in designated centres of high biodiversity. Noting the world-class wilderness values of many World Heritage sites and the scarcity of funds for their management, we--as supporters of wild areas--should begin to lobby our governments to ensure the use of the GEF in the protection of these areas. AUTHOR Harold Eidsvik World Heritage Centre UNESCO 7 Place de Fontenoy 75352 Paris France


Appendix 1. World Heritage sites with wilderness values.

Area**

Country

Site

Algeria

Tassili N'Ajjer

Argentina

Las Glaciares

Australia

Kakadu Tasmanian Wilderness

Brazil

Iguacu

170,000

Cameroon

Dja Faunal Reserve

526,000

Canada

Glacier Bay/Tatshenshini*** Wood Buffalo Canadian Rocky Mountains Nahanni Gross Morne

488,100 4,480,700 2,493,100 476,500 194,200

Canada/USA

Kluane/St Elias-Wrangell

8,167,400

Central African Republic^Manova - Gouanda-St Floris

7,200,000 475,800 1,175,200 1,374,000

1,740,000

Costa Rica

Talamanca-Amistad

193,200

Ecuador

Galapagos Sangay

766,500 271,900

Honduras

Rio Platano

350,000

Indonesia

Komodo

219,000

Ivory Coast

Comoe Tai

1,150,000 350,000

Mauritania

Banc d'Arguin

1,173,000

Mexico

Sian Ka'an

528,100

Nepal

Sagarmatha

124,400

New Zealand

Ti Wahipounamu

2,700,000

Niger

Air and Tenere

7,736,000

Panama

Darien

Peru

Manu Huscaran Rio Abiseo

597,000

4

1,532,800 340,000 274,500


280,000

Romania^

Danube Delta^

Senegal^

Niokolo-Koba^

2,204,000

Tanzania

Selous Serengeti

5,000,000 1,476,300

Thailand

Thung Yai Kha Khaeng

320,000

United States

Yellowstone Everglades Yosemite Olympic Great Smoky Mountains

898,000 567,000 373,900 362,800 209,100

Zaire

Salonga Virunga Kabuzi-Biega Garamba

Zimbabwe^

Mana Pools

3,656,300 780,000 600,000 492,000 219,600 63,618,300

Total

*Sites over 100,000 hectares are rounded to 100s. **Area given in hectares. ***Proposed Tatshenshini addition included. Note: Sites in bold print are sites in developing countries with high biodiversity value.

5


CREATION OF CANADIAN NATIONAL PARKS IN CONCERT WITH SETTLEMENT OF ABORIGINAL LAND CLAIMS GORDON HAMRE

aboriginal peoples that were not already granted to the Hudson's Bay Company or already established by early colonists. The result was the signing by the British Crown, and after Canada's Confederation in 1867 by the Canadian government, of a series of formal agreements--or treaties as they became known--with aboriginal peoples across the country. These treaties generally provided reserve lands, cash or items of value, education, and hunting privileges. In turn, aboriginal peoples gave up their title to the land, although the term was never defined. Even today in Canada, there is no clear definition of aboriginal title, and it remains an elusive legal concept.

Many of the world's largest national parks are in Canada's Yukon and Northwest Territories. Located north of 60째 latitude, the Yukon and Northwest Territories comprise roughly 40 percent of the country--some 3,862,215 square kilometers. Although the details vary, all of these national parks or national park reserves provide for continued use of the lands and harvesting of the renewable resources by the aboriginal peoples who traditionally have occupied the areas. At the same time, the wilderness character and heritage values therein are protected. This has been achieved through comprehensive land claim agreements between the federal and territorial governments and the aboriginal peoples concerned. The claims enjoy constitutional protection.

Until the 1970s, the Canadian government rejected the concept of claims based on aboriginal rights. However, a Supreme Court decision and other legal battles centred primarily on resource development led then Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau to acknowledge publicly that aboriginal peoples might have more rights than previously had been acknowledged. In 1973, a new policy was announced. It said that, where rights of traditional land use had not been extinguished by treaty or dealt with by law, there may be grounds for a comprehensive land claim.

How this has been possible? The answer lies in Canada's history, its constitution, the courts, and the legal and policy frameworks for national parks and the protection of aboriginal peoples' interests. This paper briefly outlines some of the background and the current situation respecting national parks in Canada north of 60째 latitude and their relationship with aboriginal land claims.

The new federal policy opened the door. One year later, Parliament amended the National Parks Act to provide for the establishment of national park reserves in the Yukon and Northwest Territories. These national park reserves were to be like other national parks, except that they were subject to settlement of any "right, title, or interest of the people of native origin therein." But the national park reserve concept was not the government's idea; rather it resulted from interventions by the Inuit Tapirisat of Canada. This group, representing Inuit and

LEGAL AND POLICY FRAMEWORK It is a tenet of English Common Law that an uncontested user of a resource, or an occupier of lands, enjoys certain enduring rights after some period of time. For Canadian aboriginal peoples, that period stretches from time immemorial. This was confirmed by King George, III, in 1763. His Royal Proclamation of that year declared that the English Crown had sovereignty over lands that are now Canada and that the Crown was to hold (in trust) all lands for use by 6


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made in defining institutions of public government to manage the lands and resources in a manner that provides for the direct participation of beneficiaries, particularly resource harvesters and others with personal knowledge of the area.

Inuvialuit (Eskimo) interests, convinced Parliament that establishment of conventional national parks would prejudice the settlement of their comprehensive claims. This change cleared the way for the establishment of three national park reserves, the first national park designations made of any sort anywhere in the Canadian North in half a century.

The final agreement also created a national park along the Yukon's Arctic coast bordering the Beaufort Sea: Iwavik National Park. Besides general provisions regarding national parks now common to northern Canadian claims, two provisions warrant special mention. The wilderness character must be maintained, and the size of the park may not be decreased without the consent of the Inuvialuit.

Today, in the Yukon and Northwest Territories, comprehensive land claims have been settled for all but the Dene and Metis peoples of the upper Mackenzie River and Great Slave Lake basin. However, there is a framework in place for this area.

Iwavik protects 10,168 km 2 of sub-Arctic wilderness, but this is only part of the story of conservation in the northern Yukon. It took almost another decade, and another land claim discussed later in this paper, for the larger natural area to receive long-term protection.

While each claim is unique, there are common elements that concern national parks regardless of where they occur. All provide that wildlife and other renewable natural resources may be harvested by beneficiaries up to the maximum sustainable yield, subject only to laws of conservation and public safety. For species that are not abundant, quotas are set. Conservation regimes for large mammals embrace part or all of the claim area, as required for migratory species like caribou (Rangifer tarandus). Where necessary, reciprocal management agreements cover, or will cover, trans-boundary issues. Resource management within the national parks is integrated with that of the surrounding region, and the authority of the federal Minister responsible for national parks may be superseded by the provisions of the claim where the claim varies from the National Parks Act. Other sections address cultural heritage issues, environmental impact assessment, economic benefits, and corporate ownership of land by beneficiaries.

More recently, another national park has been established, Aulavik National Park, on Banks Island. While not referenced in the IFA, the federal government had said in the 1970s that it wished to create a national park in the Thomsen River valley, an area known for its high population of musk ox. With the understanding that a national park would be established someday when the federal government had the resources, Inuvialuit elected not to own land in this area as part of their entitlement in the settlement of their claim. When Canada's Green Plan was announced in 1990, and money for new national parks became available, negotiations were concluded relatively quickly--in a little over two years. It is fair to ask why Iwavik was integral to the settlement of this land claim and Aulavik was not. The answer is simple. Unlike Banks Island, Yukon's Arctic coast was seen by Inuvialuit to be threatened by possible oil and gas development. The government did assess the mineral and non-renewable energy resource potential of the area, as it now does for all potential northern national parks, and it was determined to be

INUVIALUIT CLAIM A watershed in cooperation in conservation occurred in the mid-1980s with the conclusion of the Inuvialuit Final Agreement (IFA), the land claim of the people of the western Arctic. Negotiated at a time when there were few precedents, this claim is remarkable for progress the parties 8


significant. Nevertheless, other interests were deemed to be of greater importance, and the national park became a reality. INUIT CLAIM

In 1993, the Inuit of the central and eastern Arctic concluded the largest land claim in Canadian history. It will gave them outright ownership of 352,191 km 2 of land, almost 17 percent of the total claim area. More important, perhaps, is that the final agreement puts in place the mechanisms for the creation of Nunavut (Our Land), a new territory that will be brought about by the division of the Northwest Territories around the turn of the century. A chapter in this final agreement closes the circle on the amendments to the National Parks Act achieved two decades earlier by the InuitTapirisat of Canada, the group then working to advance all Canadian Eskimo comprehensive claims and other interests. By 9 July, 1995, the Canadian government and Inuit must conclude the Inuit Impact and Benefit Agreements (IIBAs) for the two national park reserves in the eastern Arctic: Auyuittuq and Ellesmere. Each IIBA will address matters concerning the park that might give rise to a benefit for, or a negative impact upon, the Inuit. In the former case, the benefits shall be managed to the best advantage of the Inuit; in the latter, the negative impacts shall be mitigated. Examples of matters to be considered are: training, preferential hiring, business opportunities, routes and locations of access to the park, and limitations or restrictions on use. With the conclusion of these Agreements, Auyuittuq and Ellesmere will cease to be national park reserves, as the "right, title, or interest of the people of native origin therein" will have been resolved. Auyuittuq and Ellesmere will become full national parks. Already, however, through their land ownership negotiations, Inuit have gained title to five parcels of coastal land totalling 752 km 2 that had been part of the national park reserve. Also, as part of the deal, the government agreed to remove from the park the waters of two fiords.

Two other proposed national parks are dealt with in this final agreement: North Baffin and Wager Bay. Neither of these was ever, nor will ever be, a national park reserve because the issues of aboriginal "right, title, or interest" were resolved with the settlement of the claim. If and when established, they will be national parks from the outset. North Baffin is the more advanced of the two. The final agreement provides that by 9 July, 1996, an IIBA will be completed to permit the establishment of this national park. The boundary was determined in 1992, but only after lengthy negotiations involving various government departments, the mineral industry, and the two communities most concerned. There were two major issues. First was the size and configuration of Inuit-owned lands. Second was the inclusion in the park of the entire drainage basin of the South Mala River, part of which includes rich lead/zinc deposits that have been mined to the west for a number of years. In the end, the communities met with government and industry officials and made clear their preference for the national park; the other parties acceded to this position and the entire drainage basin will be protected. Wager Bay is a 150 km deep inlet on the west coast of Hudson Bay. The national park proposal embraces 23,246 km 2 . While this proposal is referenced in the Final Agreement, and considerable research has been completed, community consultations are only just beginning. There is no time framework set for completion. DENE AND METIS CLAIM

Three important conservation initiatives in the Mackenzie River valley, which includes Great Bear and Great Slave Lakes, predate active negotiation of the comprehensive land claims of the Dene and Metis peoples living there. The history is complicated by some groups having signed one of two numbered treaties. However, in 1977, the Canadian government accepted a proposal to negotiate a claim for the entire area from a coalition of five regional groups of Dene


and Metis. These negotiations concluded in 1990, but the final agreement failed a ratification vote by beneficiaries. Subsequently, the two northern-most regions concluded regional comprehensive claims based on the rejected final agreement, but modified to better address specific interests. Despite the failure of the whole Dene/Metis Final Agreement, there are interesting issues, and provisions that are likely to come to fruition in some form in the future. The national park proposed for the East Arm of Great Slave Lake sits in an administrative and political limbo. Virtually all of the area under consideration has been withdrawn from alienation since 1970 and remains vacant Crown land reserved for national park purposes. The Dene/ Metis Final Agreement would have brought the uncertainty to an end. A regional land claim that includes this area, and that will answer the question of whether this proposal will ever become a national park, is certainly a possibility. In the interim, a political commitment that no decision will be made without the agreement of the aboriginal people of the area ensures that it remains protected, spectacular, pristine wilderness. Nahanni National Park Reserve, the first World Heritage Site and also a Canadian Heritage River, also falls within the Dene/Metis settlement area. An Impact and Benefit Plan dealing with establishment of a park management committee, economic and employment opportunities, and mitigation of potential negative impacts was to have been concluded after the Dene/Metis claim was in place. The Plan would have codified local involvement in the management and operation of this park. And, like Ellesmere and Auyuittuq with the settlement of the Inuit claim, Nahanni would have become a full national park. Designation as a World Heritage Site brings great prominence to a national park. The attendant obligations to maintain a world standard might seem to prompt tensions between an in-

ternational constituency and local users whose interests are protected in a land claim. This has not happened, yet. Nahanni remains a national park reserve. In the negotiation of the now failed Final Agreement, the international status of Nahanni was a factor for government negotiators, although it was not one that became an issue during the proceedings. Transparency in decision-making and accountability in management are two principles that have guided government officials in the negotiation of claims' provisions respecting national parks and the larger fields of land, water, and wildlife management. They may prove sufficient to satisfy local and international audiences. In the case of Nahanni, we will have to wait to see. Wood Buffalo is a different story. Established in 1922, and today the second largest national park in the world, it adjoins the southern boundary of the Dene/Metis settlement area. As occupied Crown land established as a national park long before comprehensive claims were accepted for negotiation, it was not included in the settlement region. Thus, it would not have been subject to the terms of the Dene/Metis final agreement. However, as part of the overall process, a separate and lengthy chapter of that agreement was negotiated to apply exclusively to the northern portion of the Park. (Other portions to the south are managed according to provisions of specific claims arising from treaties. Cooperative management regimes are in place.) The terms of the Wood Buffalo chapter of the Dene/Metis Final Agreement largely mirrored those of the parent document, modified to reflect the special circumstances of this national park. The inclusion of Wood Buffalo under special and limited terms might be seen to balance regional management needs with the history and legal context of the Dene/Metis claim. YUKON INDIANS CLAIM Fourteen First Nations joined to form the Council for Yukon Indians. Each eventually will have its own final agreement modeled on a common Umbrella Final Agreement. The first three First


Nation Final Agreements were concluded in 1993. Perhaps the most exciting recent conservation initiative in Canada is within one of these, the Vuntut Gwitchin First Nation Final Agreement. The Old Crow Flats area is the traditional harvesting area of the Vuntut Gwitchin. It is also a highly productive wetland listed under the RAMSAR Convention and includes archaeological sites that may be the oldest in the New World. The area is critical to the Porcupine Caribou herd shared by the Yukon and Alaska. More than just a new national park, the adjacent Crown lands and lands owned by the Vuntut Gwitchin all fall under a Special Management Area to be governed by conservation management principles. The government and Vuntut Gwitchin will develop a management plan consistent with these principles.

CONCLUSION National parks are but a small part of the settlement of comprehensive land claims in Canada. Yet they have contributed to ensuring that opportunities to continue traditional lifestyles and pursuits remain available, while at the same time they achieve the conservation and representation goals of the Canadian government. The alliance between park managers and aboriginal peoples that the comprehensive land claims contribute to will ensure the conservation and enduring benefit of these areas for everyone. AUTHOR Gordon Hamre Department of Canadian Heritage Parks Canada Box 1166 Yellowknife, NWT Canada X1A 2N8

Briefly, the five principles require the parties: to strive to maintain the integrity of the Area as one ecological unit; to recognise and protect the traditional use of the Area by Vuntut Gwitchin; to protect and conserve fish and wildlife and their habitat, in particular migratory birds and the Porcupine Caribou herd; to maintain the land's capability to support fish and wildlife; and to recognise the ownership of lands by the Vuntut Gwitchin First Nation. The creation of this park in part completes the conservation initiative begun a decade before with the establishment of Iwavik under the Inuvialuit claim. Ivvavik and Vuntut National Parks share a boundary. Together, along with the Special Management Area, they are of sufficient size to ensure their environmental integrity into the future. The extraordinary combination of natural and cultural resources surely warrants consideration for World Heritage designation. Perhaps this will come in the future. First though, the Vuntut Gwitchin must be satisfied that their current and future needs are addressed through the management planning process before a larger audience is invited to participate. 11


WILDERNESS SITUATION IN BRITISH COLUMBIA TERJE VOLD HAROLD EIDSVIK KRIS KENNETT

fifth of 1 percent of Earth's land surface, and that BC has about 20 percent of this comparatively rare ecosystem.

INTRODUCTION The protection of wilderness is one of British Columbia's (BC's) most challenging land use issues. There are two initiatives underway to address this issue: land use planning and a protected areas strategy. To assist these initiatives, an inventory of wilderness and a survey of public vies have been undertaken to provide supporting information

Several of BC's wildlife species, many frequently associated with its wilderness, are also globally significant. For example, an estimated 60 percent of the world's mountain goats and 10 percent of the world's grizzly bears are located in BC.

The wilderness situation in BC is described in terms of current wilderness designations, the wilderness allocation process, results from the wilderness inventory and survey of public views, and wilderness management policy.

WILDERNESS DESIGNATIONS The first protected area designations in BC were Yoho and Glacier National Parks, established in 1886. The provincial park system began with the designation of Strathcona Park in 1911 and Mount Robson Park in 1913. These initial large parks were mainly wilderness because they were predominantly roadless and natural in character.

British Columbia is Canada's Pacific coast province and its third largest at 952,263 square kilometers. The population of BC is 3.1 million residents, with 76 percent residing in the cities with over 25,000 inhabitants. Land ownership in BC is 94 percent public and 6 percent private. In Canada, natural resource management mainly comes under provincial rather than federal jurisdiction; provincial governments are therefore key to wilderness designation and management.

In the mid-1980s, there was an intense public interest in BC's wilderness and the government responded by establishing a Wilderness Advisory Committee that was appointed in 1985 to make recommendations on wilderness policy and legislation in general and for 24 contentious areas in particular.

British Columbia's natural resources are a vital part of the provincial economy. Natural resource industries account for 20 percent of BC's Gross Domestic Product and 13 percent of provincial employment. British Columbia's tourism is also largely dependent on natural resources, with a Supernatural British Columbia international marketing theme. Thus, wilderness designations are critical socioeconomic and political issues.

Their 1986 report, "The Wilderness Mosaic," recommended there be a variety of natural area designations. Consequently, in 1987, a wilderness area designation was established under the Forest Act. There are currently several different types of designated wilderness in BC. They include wilderness zoned in parks and recreation areas, including entire wilderness parks, managed by B C Parks; wilderness zoned in national parks, managed by the federal government; and wilder-

British Columbia's natural environment includes a number of globally significant features. For example, Weigland eta!. (1992) estimated coastal temperate rain forests constitute less than one 12


Table 1. The current area of wilderness in designated areas since some boundaries have changed since time of establishment. - Wilderness in Designated Areas — Cumulative^ ^

Cumulative Current^Number of Years of^Number of ^ ^ Area * Area *^Areas Designation tion^Areas 1886-89 1900-19 1920-39 1940-59 1960-79 1980-93

2 3 7 4 25 27

160,000 390,000 1,670,000 130,000 1,780,000 2,180,000

2 5 12 16 41 68

160,000 550,000 2,220,000 2,350,000 4,130,000 6,310,000

*Area given in hectares. The B.C. government recently announced that it will establish a 1 million-hectare wilderness park in the Tatshenshini-Alsek area in the extreme northwestern part of BC. This land use decision was difficult because it meant foregoing access to valuable mineral deposits. This newly designated wilderness now results in a contiguous 8.5 million-hectare international protected area--the world's largest. British Columbia will be pursuing World Heritage designation for the area.

ness areas, managed by the B.C. Forest Service. Several key areas have been designated as World Heritage sites. The amount of wilderness in various designations has changed over the years. Table 1 summarizes this change for the wilderness portion of BC's designated areas (i.e., roadless natural areas over 1,000 hectares in size, therefore not including designated areas that are "roaded" or smaller in size).

WILDERNESS ALLOCATION

One extreme example of change in wilderness designation can be seen during 1940-59 where nearly 2 million hectares of parks were initially established but then subsequently greatly reduced in size, leaving a net gain of 130,000 hectares of designated wilderness.

In BC, the provincial government is responsible for designating new wilderness areas. The framework for allocation of wilderness is through comprehensive land use planning processes. Planning utilizes a Protected Areas Strategy that provides an overall policy framework for protected areas, including wilderness.

Over the last 14 years, there has been a 50 percent increase in designated wilderness. This includes recently announced decisions to designate new areas. The need to designate wilderness and resolve land use issues has been underscored by the decline in roadless areas, increased forest harvesting activity, and heightened concern about old growth forests.

Protected Areas Strategy In 1990, an interdepartmental public participation process called Parks and Wilderness for the 90s (PW90) was initiated. One objective of PW90 was to establish study areas--areas that would be specifically studied for their protected area values and receive some form of interim management until designation decisions were made. According to B.C. Parks and B.C. Forest Service (1992), the PW90 process resulted in 112 large study areas, covering over 11 million hectares of roadless area.

Currently, about 7 million hectares--7.5 percent of BC's total land area--are under various types of protected area designations, with 90 percent of that--6.3 million hectares--considered to be wilderness. 13


the province with the formation of a Commission on Resources and Environment.

At the same time, an Old Growth Strategy Project (B.C. Forest Service, 1992) was underway, and other protected area programs were developing system plans (e.g., for ecological reserves and wildlife management areas). Consequently, in 1992, the B.C. government decided to roll all of these initiatives into one comprehensive Protected Areas Strategy.

WILDERNESS INVENTORY

A Geographic Information System (GIS) inventory of designated wilderness and remaining roadless areas has been undertaken in order to provide information for the Protected Areas Strategy and various land use planning processes (Erickson and Vold, 1993). Through this inventory, there was about 52 million hectares (55 percent of BC) remaining in a roadless wilderness condition in 1988. About 20 percent of these remaining roadless areas--9.7 million hectares (10 percent of BC)--have been approved as study areas under the province's Protected Areas Strategy.

This Protected Areas Strategy was released in 1993. Its two goals are: 1.to protect viable representative examples of BC's natural diversity; and 2. to protect BC's special natural, cultural heritage and recreation features. Policy highlights include:

Of the remaining roadless areas in a wilderness condition (outside of designated areas or study areas), about 24 million hectares (25 percent of BC) are considered to have no commercial timber values at present, while 19 million hectares (nearly 20 percent of BC) of roadless area do have commercial forest values that currently contribute to approved allowable annual cuts. The inventory also describes the condition of wilderness for each of the province's eco-regions and biogeoclimatic units-- the two ecological systems used in BC to enable the goal of representing BC's diverse landscapes to be met in the Protected Areas Strategy. Table 2 summarizes the status of wilderness for broadly defined ecosystems in the province.

• designating 12 percent of BC as protected areas by the year 2000; • prohibiting industrial activities, such as logging, mining, and hydro-electric development in protected areas; • applying interim management guide lines in approved study areas; • revising the list of study areas using detailed criteria based on the stated goals; and • reviewing and revising existing protected areas legislation. Wilderness areas and recreationareas, for example, currently do not prohibit mineral use, yet this is no longer allowed in protected areas.

WILDERNESS DEMAND

Wilderness issues in BC are often polarized and volatile, with considerable media coverage of various groups that frequently hold strongly divergent views. However, it is also important to understand the opinions and views of British Columbians in general. Consequently, a wilderness survey was designed by an interagency team and, after considerable focus testing, was sent to a representative sample of 3,000 B.C. households to determine how wilderness is valued and used. Some of the initial highlights of the survey based on 1,474 respondents were:

Land Use Planning

The B.C. government will designate new areas based on recommendations from regional and sub-regional land use planning processes and from special studies such as the one recently undertaken fortheTatshenshini-Alsek area. Land use planning has recently been coordinated in 14


Table 2. Summarization of the status of wilderness for broadly defined ecosystems in British Columbia. Percent of Ecosystem Roadless^Roadless Broadly^ Roadless^with No^th Defined^% of Designated^5ludy^Commercial^Commercial Ecosystems ^BC^Wilderness^Area^Forests^Forests^Roaded

Coastal

Forests^11%^7%^9%^17%^18%^49%

Interior Forests and Grasslands

13%

3%

3%

5%

11%

79%

Sub-Boreal Forests

13%

3%

1%

6%

23%

67%

Boreal Forests

16%

2%

7%

18%

43%

30%

Subalpine Forests

27%

9%

15%

36%

18%

22%

Alpine (NonForest)

20%

15%

21%

55%

0%

7%

B.C. Total

100%

7%

10%

25%

20%

37%

and 35 percent responding for "places to do certain outdoor recreation activities."

• Around 61 percent of the respondents felt more designated wilderness is needed in BC; 37 percent felt the amount of designated wilderness is about right; and 3 percent felt there is already too much designated wilderness in BC.

• Concerns for having more designated wilderness considered very important were loss of jobs in resource industries (logging, mining, etc.) (33 percent), slow growth in the overall B.C. economy (33 percent), reduction in provincial fees and taxes from resource industries (22 percent), costs of maintaining these areas once they are established (20 percent), and restriction of some recreation activities in these areas (10 percent).

• Benefits for having more designated wilderness considered very important were the protection of wildlife (77 percent), preservation of representative natural areas (biodiversity) (56 percent), and places to do scien tific studies (ecosystems) (44 percent). Wilderness use benefits were also important, but ranked less so, with 37 percent responding that the stimulation of the B.C. economy by tourists is a very important benefit,

Respondents were asked what they would be willing to pay for doubling designated wilderness areas and why. The main reasons were they wanted the assurance that these areas exist for 15


their own sakes (existence value) and assurance that these areas exist for future generations (bequest value). A much less important reason was the option to use the areas in the future (option value). The survey found that 16 percent of respondents participated in one or more wilderness trips in BC in 1992, and nearly half (47 percent) had taken a wilderness trip at some time in BC. The survey also asked questions about trip expenditures, maximum willingness to pay for wilderness trips, appropriateness of various recreational and non-recreational uses in designated wilderness, and other related questions aimed at improving the understanding about how British Columbians in general feel about a variety of wilderness allocation and management issues in the province.

WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT Provincial policy for managing designated wilderness is embodied in two policy papers: 1) "Striking the Balance'(B.C.Parks) and 2) ` `Managing Wilderness in Provincial Forests" (B.C. Forest Service). Policy calls for a master plan for each park and recreation area and a wilderness management plan for each wilderness area. Presently, there are 37 completed plans (54 percent) for the 68 wilderness-type designations in BC, including 31 master plans for provincial parks and recreation areas, five for national parks, and one wilderness management plan. Most of the areas without completed plans are relatively new designated areas.

SUMMARY British Columbia has a diverse and rich wilderness heritage and an economy largely driven by its natural resources. Land use planning processes are underway that will recommend what areas should be preserved as wilderness and what areas should be used for resource development activity such as logging and mining. The province has developed a Protected Areas Strategy as a policy framework to consider protected area values, including wilderness, in its land use planning. A key feature of the strategy is the target to have 12 percent of BC in protected status by the year 2000, representing BC's many diverse natural ecosystems and protecting special features. About 7.5 percent (7.1 million hectares) of BC is in various protected area-type designations. Of that, about 90 percent is considered designated wilderness (6.3 million hectares or close to 7 percent of the province). There has been a 50 percent increase in designated wilderness in BC over the last 14 years. Protected Areas Strategy study areas in a wilderness condition that have been approved represent an additional 10 percent of BC. Because not all natural ecosystems are represented, the study area list is under review. In addition, another 45 percent of BC occurs in a roadless wilderness condition. A recent survey of B.C. households found that 61 percent of respondents felt there was too little designated wilderness in the province. Motivations for increasing the amount of designated wilderness were largely for non-use values (bequest and existence values) rather than for possible future use values (option values). Nearly half the respondents had engaged in a wilderness trip at some time in BC.

Two trends are developing in wilderness management in BC. One is for more active public participation (e.g., developing a planning team with direct public representation). The other is for more measurable or defined management objectives (e.g., examining the Limits Of Acceptable Change system for wilderness planning) (Rutledge, in preparation).

Wilderness management policy has been developed and plans have been prepared for over half of the areas designated as wilderness in BC. The trend is for more active public participation on planning teams and for developing indicators of change in wilderness conditions that are important and can be measured and monitored.

Im


REFERENCES B.C. Forest Service. 1992. Old-growth strategy for British Columbia. B.C. government. 1993. A Protected Areas Strategy for British Columbia. B.C. Parks and B.C. Forest Service. 1992. Towards a Protected Areas Strategy for British Columbia: Parks and wilderness for the 90s. Erickson, V., and T. Vold. 1993. Determining the status of wilderness in British Columbia. In: GIS 93--7th Annual Symposium (Vancouver, BC). Rutledge, R. In preparation. Determining indicators of wilderness conditions and standards of acceptable conditions in B.C. wilderness areas. B.C. Forest Service. Weigland, J., A. Mitchell, and D. Morgan. 1992. Coastal temperate rain forests: Ecological characteristics, status, and distribution worldwide. Ecotrust and Conservation International. AUTHORS Terje Vold Recreation Branch B.C. Forest Service Victoria, BC Canada V8W 3E7 Harold Eidsvik World Heritage Centre UNESCO 7 Place de Fontenoy 75352 Paris France Kris Kennett B.C. Parks 1011 4th Avenue Prince George, BC Canada V2L 3H9 17


PLANNING THE ALLOCATION OF PROTECTED AREAS IN BRITISH COLUMBIA KRIS KENNETT

INTRODUCTION

Tweedsmuir Provincial Park is 981,000 hectares.

British Columbia (BC) is one of the world's most ecologically rich and diverse jurisdictions. It is the westernmost province in Canada, stretching from the Pacific Ocean to the Rocky Mountains and from the northern U.S. border to Alaska and the Yukon. It has a wide variety of physiographic units and ecosystems, ranging from sea level to almost 5,000 metres, from ice caps to desert and from temperate rainforest to cactus and sage in the interior. The Pacific coastline meanders over 27,000 kilometres, and like the coast of Norway, is mostly fiords. British Columbia has 26 separate mountain ranges, which include the highest point in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. British Columbia is also home to a significant percentage of the world's wilderness dependent species such as mountain goats, caribou, and grizzly bears.

In the past, however, BC protected mostly spectacular mountain scenery. This has skewed representation of natural ecosystems towards high elevations and under-represented low elevation communities, old growth forests, and predator-prey ecosystems. With the changing world economy and social values, the people of British Columbia and the world are demanding that wilderness and ecological systems be protected. Over the years, many battles have occurred in BC between environmentalists and industry, with wins and losses for wilderness preservation. The Tatshenshini River area has been protected from mining development; South Moresby National Park, the Khutzeymateen grizzly bear sanctuary, and parts of Clayquot Sound have been protected from logging. On the other hand, Hamber Provincial Park in the Rocky Mountains was reduced by 90 percent in the 1960s and Tweedsmuir Park lost a northern canoe route to provide a hydro-electric reservoir for aluminium refining.

British Columbia encompasses 95 million hectares, which is approximately 2.5 times the size of Norway. Most of the province (93 percent) is public land. Approximately three million people live in this province, over half of which live in Vancouver and Victoria, in the southwest corner of the province. Consequently, most of BC is unpopulated and in a wild state. However, this wilderness base is shrinking.

In recognizing its global responsibility to protect wilderness and ecological integrity and achieve a sustainable society, the B.C. government is working towards a comprehensive land use plan that will resolve issues and establish certainty for all British Columbians. To aid in this process, the Commission on Resources and Environment (CORE) has been established to develop a community-based, publicly negotiated provincial land use plan. An integral part of this is the Protected Areas Strategy (PAS), which is the focus of this paper.

Presently, seven million hectares--or 7.5 percent of the province--is protected under legislation as national parks, provincial parks, forest wilderness areas, and wildlife management and ecological reserves. Approximately six million hectares of this area is considered to be wilderness (Vold, 1993), with some of these areas being exceptionally large. For example,

18


PROTECTED AREAS STRATEGY

^

In the recommendations of the 1987 World Commission on Environment and Development (also known as the Brundtland Commission), the B.C. government is committed to expanding a protected areas system that will protect 12 percent of the province's biological, cultural, and recreational values. By the year 2000, 12 million hectares of wilderness will be protected in perpetuity. This is roughly equivalent to onethird the size of Norway or three times the size of Switzerland. This initiative is seen as the key to a sustainable environment and economy by removing the valley-by-valley confrontations and providing greater certainty for resourcedependent communities and wilderness protection. With the PAS, the province is moving towards an ecological basis for wilderness protection. This strategy provides technical information on wilderness and ecosystem protection that will be considered in the larger land use planning process. Provincial and national government resource agencies responsible for parks, forests, mines, wildlife, and public lands are working together using a set of goals and criteria provided by the provincial government ministers to make recommendations for completion of a protected areas system plan.

DEFINITION OF PROTECTED AREA Under this new strategy, a protected area is defined as "land and freshwater or marine areas set aside to protect the province's diverse natural, recreational, and cultural heritage." Protected areas protect and provide for a spectrum of compatible uses. In addition, they are inalienable: the land and resources may not be sold. No industrial resource extraction or development is permitted. (I.e., there will no mining, logging, hydro-electric dams, or oil and gas development within protected areas.) This is consistent with the framework established by the World Conservation Union (IUCN) to protect wilderness from resource development.

GOALS OF THE PROTECTED AREAS STRATEGY

The PAS has two goals. The first is to protect viable, representative examples of the natural diversity in the province. These areas should be representative of the major terrestrial, marine, and freshwater ecosystems, characteristic habitats, hydrology and landforms, and the characteristic wilderness recreational and cultural heritage values of each unit. The second goal is to protect the special biological, cultural heritage, and recreational features of the province, including rare, endangered, and critical habitats, outstanding or unique botanical, zoological, geological, and paleontological features, outstanding or fragile cultural heritage features, and outstanding outdoor recreational features such as wilderness rivers.

PROTECTED AREAS CRITERIA To meet these two goals, a provincial set of criteria has been established to both identify and evaluate possible candidates. These criteria help to select and rank representative and ecologically viable areas. The selection process is based on ecoregions and biogeoclimatic zones. The ecoregion classification system divides the province into 100 terrestrial and 10 marine ecosections, which are geographically unique units defined by landforms and climate. The biogeoclimatic classification system provides refinement by characterizing the climates, soils, and vegetation within each ecosection. To appropriately protect representative examples of ecosections, seven major criteria are used. These are: 1) degree of representativeness; 2) degree of naturalness; 3) viability; 4) diversity; 5) vulnerability; 6) opportunity for public use and appreciation; and 7) opportunity for scientific research. Representative protected areas must be large and should contain examples of the full range of ecosystems characteristic ofthat ecosection. They should also include habitats,


animals, plants, hydrology, landforms, and cultural heritage and wilderness recreation values present in that ecosection. They must also be natural enough to protect natural biological processes and wilderness recreation values, so they must be located in areas that have experienced a minimal degree of development and disturbance. Where disturbance has occurred, the areas must have the ability or potential to recover to a natural state. Of the 100 terrestrial ecosections, 21 meet the 12 percent target. Therefore, at least 79 new areas need to be identified to meet ecosection representation. Related to the second goal, special features are elements made special by their rarity, scarcity, and uniqueness or significance in intrinsic or perceived worth (B.C. government, 1993). The following criteria will be applied to evaluate the significance of these areas: rarity, scarcity or uniqueness; viability; diversity; vulnerability; opportunity for public use and appreciation; opportunity of scientific research; cultural heritage significance; and ability to address public perceptions and demands. Most of these areas will be small, such as the orca rubbing beaches in Robson Bight or the abandoned Haida villages on Queen Charlotte Islands. Priority will be set according to the significance of each element globally, nationally, provincially, or regionally. GAP ANALYSIS Presently, interagency technical teams are implementing a process to identify and evaluate areas for protection. This process is known as gap analysis and is being undertaken by six regional teams. In this analysis, each ecosection is described in terms of representative values and special features for conservation, recreation, and cultural heritage. Eventually, every one of the 110 ecosections will have its own, unique identity catalogued. Once the ecosection description is in place, current protected areas such as parks and wilderness areas are evaluated in terms of meeting the characteristics and identity of that particular ecosection. Through this analysis, gaps in the current system are identified.

To fill these gaps, areas that have been identified previously by the public or candidates identified from the remaining natural land base are compared to the degree to which they meet the above criteria and are then ranked accordingly. From these areas, a set of study area proposals is developed by balancing the need for representation with the need to protect special areas, such as caribou habitat, and outstanding recreation opportunities, such as river corridors. Four of the six regional teams have reached this point in the process. This set of study areas proposals is shared with public planning groups and is further refined through considering potential social and economic impacts. The government approves these refined areas as official study areas, which gives them temporary protection through interim management guidelines. The guidelines limit resource development so as not to preclude opportunities to protect these areas in the future. The official study areas are formally referred to land use planning processes to consider for designation as protected areas. LAND USE PLANNING Recommendations on protected areas will usually be made through regional and local planning processes, following CORE's principles of planning and public participation. Three regional and approximately a dozen local planning processes are presently underway. They are considering the PAS study areas in a broader scope of land use allocation. For some study areas and those that involve minor or specific social and economic issues, recommendations will be made to the government through special studies. The Tatshenshini River, one of the world's top wilderness rafting rivers, was studied separately, and the area has now been preserved as a park. The PAS also respects treaty and aboriginal rights and interests of the First Nations people. Their participation in PAS will not limit their subsequent treaty negotiations with the government.


LEGISLATIVE RENEWAL

AUTHOR

In BC, nine provincial and three federal statutes are used to designate protected areas. Some do not fit the strict definition of protected areas, which have been recently developed as part of the PAS. For example, a recreation area allows mineral exploration and development. Consequently, legislation is being reviewed to refine and integrate the myriad of designations.

Kris Kennett B.C. Parks Northern B.C. Region Prince George, BC Canada

SUMMARY British Columbia has seven million hectares of legally protected wilderness and much de facto wilderness. As resource uses increase, this unprotected base of wilderness is shrinking. In addition, ecological representation has been skewed towards high elevations ecosystems. To address conflicts between wilderness protection and resource development, BC is developing a comprehensive land use plan. Through the PAS, wilderness preservation is moving to an ecosystem-based system. By the year 2000, BC will have protected 12 million hectares, which will cover the full diversity of biological, recreation, and cultural values in the province. This system will consist of large intact wilderness areas that will be fully protected to IUCN standards. REFERENCES British Columbia government. 1993. A Protected Areas Strategy for British Columbia. Commission on Resources and Environment. 1993. Annual report to the Legislative Assembly--1993. Commission on Resources and Environment. 1992. Report on a Land Use Strategy for British Columbia. Vold, Terje. 1993. Wilderness situation in British Columbia. In: International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research-5th World Wilderness Congress symposium (Tromso, Norway).

21


EVOLUTION OF WILDERNESS CONCEPTS IN AUSTRALIA JONATHAN MILLER

rivers in the early 1980s, protection of wet tropical rain forests in Queensland in the mid1980s, and a range of logging proposals in rain forest and eucalypt forest areas.

ABSTRACT Wilderness issues have been central to many land use controversies in Australia over the last two decades; and wilderness has been the subject of the development of government policy, including legislation in some jurisdictions. Over the last 20 years, Australian ideas of wilderness have evolved for several reasons. The most important of these reasons have been the concurrent rise in the profile of issues relating to Australia's Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and the accompanying recognition of the significance of their activities in shaping the Australian landscape. It is concluded that while wilderness must be considered as being an umbrella for a range of values, the emphasis in Australian approaches to wilderness is increasingly on the importance of conserving biological values. The development of a wilderness identification methodology using the National Wilderness Inventory is considered in this light.

While the central Commonwealth Government has been increasingly involved in conservation issues over the past two decades, land use allocation and management remain principally the responsibilities of the states and territories. Therefore, a diversity of legislative provisions exist, for the recognition of wilderness as land use, including separate wilderness legislation in some states. The Australian Heritage Commission is a Commonwealth Government statutory authority that identifies and provides conservation advice on places with significant natural environment and cultural values, but it does not have a direct management role. The commission is compiling a national geographic information system based a data base of wilderness quality called the National Wilderness Inventory and is developing methodologies to use the Inventory for the systematic identification of wilderness areas.

BACKGROUND Australia retains significant large areas that remain largely unchanged by the impacts of modern industrial society. These are found across the range of biomes, from the hot and areas in central and western Australia to the wet-dry tropics and the range of humid ecosystems found on the east coast. Even so, these areas represent a small and diminishing proportion of the country's land area, particularly on the more densely settled eastern seaboard.

An identification methodology must rest on the concepts that are central to the idea of wilderness. These in turn are affected by a range of cultural influences, particularly as they influence the way a community values its natural areas. There has been considerable evolution of wilderness concepts in Australia, particularly over the last two decades. This paper concentrates on three issues impinging on the concept of wilderness in Australia. It then outlines a contemporary Australian approach to wilderness that responds to these issues and the implications for the Australian Heritage Commission's development of a wilderness identification methodology.

Wilderness issues have been central to many land use controversies in Australia over the last 20 years. These have included the flooding of Lake Pedder in Tasmania in the early 1970s, the proposed damming of the Gordon and Franklin 22


^ CHANGING AUSTRALIAN On the other hand, the absence of human intru^ APPROACHES TO THE sion and recreational and ecological values are ^ CONCEPT OF WILDERNESS combined in the 1979 definition by the Institute of Foresters of Australia: Various authors give summaries of the evolution of European Australian wilderness ideas and An area of wilderness is a large tract of attitudes about the natural environment since primitive country with its lands and settlement in 1788 (e.g., Johnston, 1974; Mosley, waters and its natural plants and animal 1978; BairdLambert, 1988; and Robertson et communities unmodified by humans and al., 1992). These indicate a trend from despising their works. This tract must be large what to the new European settlers was an unfaenough to survive as wilderness and miliar landscape to current positive and protecideally must be extensive enough to tive attitudes. require more than one day's walk to traverse. Perhaps the first identifiable Australian proponent for the reservation of lands specifically to Many writers have outlined the range of values protect their wilderness values was Myles that are encompassed by the wilderness idea, but Dunphy, who campaigned tirelessly during the the principle values recognised in Australia for 1920s for the protection of areas in the Blue wilderness areas have been: Mountains west of Sydney. Australian ideas of wilderness were doubtless strongly informed by • nature conservation; the European Romantics--and important American thinkers in this area over the last 150 years-• recreational opportunity; but the Australian tradition has been largely influenced by distinctive local circumstances and • spiritual/emotional experience; opinion leaders such as Dunphy. The summaries mentioned above suggest that the definition used in the U.S. Wilderness Act of 1964 (P.L. 88-577) had wide influence on Australian thinking up until the 1980s. That legislation defines a wilderness as being an area in which ". . . man's imprint [is] substantially unnoticeable.. . "--a principle that has had to be re-examined in Australia. (See The Rise in Profile of Issues Relating to Indigenous Peoples.) It also mentions that wilderness areas will provide opportunities for solitude and primitive recreation. This emphasis on anthropocentric values is reflected in various references in the 1970s and 1980s, such as Smith (1978).

• intrinsic values; and • scientific research.

While Thompson (1986) stated that Dunphy had an anthropocentric view, Dunphy did include the idea of nature conservation in his definition of a wilderness reserve (Mosley, 1978). Helman et al. (1976) provided an early taste of a more contemporary emphasis on ecological values:

Over the last 20 years there has been a shift in the relative importance placed upon these values, especially nature conservation and recreational opportunity, in Australian discussions of wilderness. This reflects a change in the Australian conservation movement from after-hours amateurs who are motivated by their interests in outdoor recreation, field naturalists, and scientists to a more powerful political force that lies within a broad social change movement. As a result, wilderness proponents have been influenced by Green and deep ecology philosophies that reject a modernist mission to dominate nature in the face of apocalyptic predictions of a biosphere collapse (Russell, 1992). This is reflected in an increased advocacy of the intrinsic values of wilderness, representing a shift from the anthropocentric to the ecocentric.

A wilderness is a large area of land perceived to be natural, where genetic diversity and natural cycles remain essentially unaltered.

Three further issues over recent years have been important in challenging the central concepts of wilderness in Australia, and they are further considered as follows. 23


through, for example, the replanting of seeds and tubers and the diversion of water resources to harvest fish and eels (Lines, 1991). Robertson et al. (1992) quote the former Australian National Parks and Wildlife Service (now the Australian Nature Conservation Agency) as observing that "in Australia.. . wilderness is in large part an artefact of the original human inhabitants. The vegetation cover of Australia was, with few exceptions, an artefact of Aboriginal burning practices..."

The Rise in Profile of Issues Relating to Indigenous Peoples The relationships of indigenous peoples to their land must be addressed in any consideration of wilderness in Australia. However, the majority of Australians have grown up with little direct contact with Australia's Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and have limited understanding of their history or culture. Nevertheless, there has been considerable public debate over issues relating to Australia's indigenous peoples, particularly about campaigns for the recognition of traditional land ownership in the form of land rights. In 1992, the High Court's ruling in the Native Title case overturned the doctrine of terra nullius, which argued that at the time of British settlement there was no system of native land tenure and that therefore the land could be considered unoccupied. The resolution of matters arising from this High Court ruling is possibly Australia's most pressing current political issue.

The idea of wilderness as land with no human presence or impacts has been of major concern to Aboriginal people and has been seen as reinforcing the terra nullius doctrine that has frustrated Aboriginal groups in claiming their traditional lands (e.g., Sultan, 1991). Others have been less concerned or less supportive of the use of the idea of wilderness in land use campaigns to the extent that their interests as traditional owners may become better recognised during the land use debate. Certainly, the close ties of Australia's indigenous peoples with their traditional lands starkly contrast with the concept of wilderness as land that is remote or lacking in human imprint, as defined in the U.S. Wilderness Act. The Australian Heritage Commission is currently surveying Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander perceptions of landscape, including the use by these cultures of any concepts that may be similar to that of wilderness, and this may assist in cross-cultural dialogue on wilderness concepts. (See Conceptual Framework.)

Over recent decades, the estimates of the date of the first arrival of Aboriginal people in Australia have been progressively modified to at least 50,000 years before the present (Roberts et al., 1990); and it has been argued that occupation spread rapidly across the continent (Head, 1992). Over millennia, Aboriginal people brought major changes to their environment, especially through hunting and burning. The impact of hunting has been controversial, with (disputed) suggestions that hunting may have been a more important factor than climatic change in bringing about the extinction of many faunal species in the late Pleistocene. (See discussion in Flannery, 1990.)

Conservation of Biodiversity The aim of protecting areas for their wilderness values (i.e., as remote and natural lands), and therefore the validity of the wilderness concept, has also been challenged as the emphasis in conservation reserve systems has increasingly moved from providing recreational opportunities to conserving biodiversity.

The importance of Aboriginal fire practices in changing the face of the Australian continent no longer seems to be questioned (e.g., Jones, 1968; and Pyne, 1991). Fire has been used for many purposes, including signalling, clearing a route, hunting, regeneration of plant food, and extending human habitat (Jones, 1969) and typically has left a patchwork of burnt and unburnt areas.

The lack of support for the concept of wilderness among some conservation biologists appears to relate to wilderness management having several values as objectives, some of which are intangible. Other concerns also relate to management for wilderness values being seen to be not necessarily compatible with management to maximise

Other practices that altered the environment included the introduction of the dingo and, in a number of areas, the management of resources 24


for wilderness objectives. Griffiths (1991) posed the question as to whether the removal of such artifacts had as its un-achievable aim the artificial establishment of landscape unblemished by evidence of human activity. Current approaches to wilderness management certainly discuss restoration of wilderness values through the removal of intrusive structures and the re-vegetation of roads, but most management agencies recognise the importance of conserving features determined to have significant cultural values.

biological conservation. This argument is advanced in relation to theories that the cessation of traditional Aboriginal burning patterns in and central Australia has been a major cause of extinctions of small mammals, and that in central and northern Australia Aboriginal burning practices should be re-introduced. It is then argued that this might not be consistent with wilderness management conceived as a handsoff approach. A final concern is probably practical: Limited government resources will allow for only so much area to be reserved, and biologists would not wish to see an optimal reserve system for biological conservation compromised by protection for broader wilderness values.

More difficult debates have arisen over the continuation of practices or lifestyles that are considered culturally important, such as summer cattle grazing in Victorian alpine areas. However, opposition to alpine grazing is more based on concern for the physical impacts of grazing on vegetation and soils than on arguments that the cattle and the cattlemen's huts are intrusions on the apparent naturalness of the landscape.

While the wilderness concept has several other dimensions, protection of wilderness areas is eminently compatible with biological conservation. Indeed, overlaying Geographic Information System data for remoteness and naturalness over biological diversity data can allow for the selection among otherwise similar sites of those in the best condition. Furthermore, wilderness areas, as large natural and remote areas, provide possibly the best opportunities for protecting biological systems (Noss, 1990).

A WAY FORWARD: AN APPROACH TO WILDERNESS IN AUSTRALIA FOR THE 1990S

This paper now draws on current approaches to wilderness that respond to current issues and ties to these the Australian Heritage Commission's current development of a wilderness identification methodology. A model for consideration for these matters might be as follows:

Management agencies recognise that the size and vulnerability of wilderness reserves necessitates some level of intervention; the completely hands -off management approach, which may seem more appropriate if wilderness is considered pristine land, does not protect the area against external threats such as introduced fauna and flora. Therefore, prescribed burning for habitat enhancement is generally seen as compatible with the broad management for the protection of wilderness values.

1. Establish a workable conceptual framework for wilderness that comprehends all the values ascribed to wilderness. 2. From the concepts and values, establish a definition. 3. Using the definition, derive an identification methodology.

The Protection of Cultural Heritage in Wilderness Areas

An additional step for management agencies is to define wilderness management codes.

Some historians have expressed concerns that the wilderness concept as applied in Australia has led either to cultural imprints on the landscape not being recognised or the removal of items of cultural heritage from areas managed

Conceptual Framework

The previous section outlines the challenges to developing a workable wilderness concept for Australia. Clearly, if wilderness is conceived as 25


land having no human history, this may be satisfied by most of Antarctica, but it has little application in Australia. Nonetheless, the geographic areas that were valued 20 years ago, within the understanding of the landscape and concept of wilderness of that time, are still valued by the community, and possibly more broadly and strongly. If our understanding of the landscape has changed and our ideas of wilderness have changed, can we still use the word wilderness in the same way or is the term too burdened with past connotations to be rehabilitated? Certainly, there are residual problems from past usage of the term that have alienated some, particularly Aboriginal people. However, current Australian ideas regarding natural areas remain sufficiently consistent with the essential ideas of wilderness used elsewhere, assuring that this term can continue to be used, even if new ways of applying it in Australia need to be adopted and publicised. Specifically, BairdLambert (1988) and Eidsvik (1989) identify the key aspects of wilderness areas as size, remoteness, and naturalness; and these aspects remain central to Australian concepts of wilderness, even if remoteness and naturalness also need tight redefinition. It will be easier to slowly change usage of the term wilderness, which has positive connotations for much of the broad public, than to establish a newly coined term.

areas. This umbrella of values may be amenable to approaches being developed within the concept of social value (Johnston, 1992), as the importance of wilderness areas arises (irrespective of the breadth of its component values) from it being valued by a significant proportion of the community. BairdLambert (1988) and Carter (1992) argue for an increasing emphasis on the biological and scientific values of wilderness, which are now broadly accepted in Australia as the pre-eminent values under the wilderness umbrella. An Australian Definition for Wilderness Some wilderness practitioners now avoid the difficulties of encapsulating the many values of wilderness in a definition and rather focus on how areas should be managed to protect their wilderness qualities. On the other hand, the National Wilderness Inventory defines wilderness quality rather than wilderness or wilderness areas. (See Lesslie, 1993.) Even so, the definition that is increasingly being adopted in Australia is that proposed by Robertson et al. (1992). It states that a wilderness is an area that is or can be restored to be: • of sufficient size to enable the longterm protection of its natural systems and biological diversity; substantially undisturbed by colonial and modern technological society; and

Even if the term wilderness is to be retained, there would be great value in an increased dialogue between those inside and outside of the government who working on wilderness issues and members of indigenous groups about the concepts and values each hold for the natural landscape. There is the potential for finding common ground at least in a shared esteem for such areas or the need to care for the country. This might lead to the development of shared or mutually compatible land ethics. Certainly, there will need to be further discussion about wilderness management issues.

• remote at its core from points of mechanised access and other evidence of colonial and modern technological society. It is a definition that does not directly address the recreational, spiritual/emotional, or intrinsic values, but it should capture the areas encompassed by such values. It is also a definition that recognises past human usage, but places the emphasis on the impacts of modern technological society.

Wilderness remains a term for geographic areas, the condition of those areas, and acts as an umbrella for a range of values ascribed to those

The definition also addresses the serious problem of defining naturalness in Australia. If the 26


it affects an area's biological wilderness value, but it may reduce the recreational wilderness experience, even if it enriched the experience culturally.

landscape has been altered by many thousands of years of Aboriginal use, then the changes brought by European society and its land management practices must be seen not as the first and only human impacts, but as the human influences that have replaced those of Aboriginal society. However, British settlement in 1788 does provide a theoretical bench mark for measuring the dramatic changes to the Australian environment by colonial and post-colonial societies and a basis for defining what comprises Australia's native biota.

The implications for remoteness flow in a similar way for similar reasons. It is remoteness from features that affects the apparent naturalness or biological integrity of an area. It must be remembered, however, that this is a narrowing of meaning. To Aboriginal people, the idea of their land being remote in its broader meaning makes little sense, because their ancestors have lived in on that same land for millennia.

Determining the biota at the time of European settlement is difficult due to inadequate documentation from that period, and because climatic changes and natural processes may have caused some biotic losses and additions. There is also the problem that with the cessation of active Aboriginal management in most areas, and even without a replacement European management regime, the landscape has changed when a fire regime that imposed a successional dis-climax has ceased.

These definitions of naturalness and remoteness are consistent with those used by the National Wilderness Inventory, which uses the wilderness continuum method. The Inventory divides an area into cells and determines values for four wilderness quality indicators for each cell. Those indicators are biophysical naturalness, aesthetic naturalness, remoteness from settlement, and remoteness from access, where remoteness and naturalness are narrowly defined as above.

Thus, naturalness can be defined not so much in terms of the absence of any human influence but rather as lacking human impacts that diminish the apparent primitiveness or the biophysical integrity of an area as they were prior to the influences of modem technological society. This definition acknowledges the role of Aboriginal practices in shaping the landscape, rather than artificially distinguishing different human impacts, as a Rousseauian vision of wilderness might prescribe. The impacts on wilderness values of two similar dwellings, or the application of particular fire management practices, would be considered to be the same in each case irrespective of whether they arose through Aboriginal or European Australian influence. The dwellings would be considered to have clear impacts on the apparent primitiveness of an area, whereas the impacts on wilderness of fire are more difficult to define, in part because fire can arise without human ignition.

Systematic Identification of Wilderness Areas

Preece (1992) presents an identification methodology whereby nodes of high wilderness quality are identified, and rules are applied to define boundaries. The Australian Heritage Commission is likely to adopt a similar approach. Now, a key question in identification is setting a minimum size for a wilderness area, but how should such a figure be derived? While the minimum viable area for the top predators of an ecosystem might suggest a size, it would do so with little precision and may be quite different from what a priori we would consider to be a reasonable minimum size for a wilderness area. Such an approach could not take into account the contribution to that population's viability made by adjacent areas. Similarly, the study of viable areas for biotic systems in and conditions is distorted by the focusing of populations around such sites as watering points.

It is a moot point how an unmistakable Aboriginal impact, such as rock art, affects perceptions of wilderness. It would be difficult to argue that 27


Recreational considerations provide easier justification for wilderness size determination through the idea of allowing a wilderness trip of a certain duration. Hawes and Heatley's (1985) method defines a wilderness boundary as starting at a certain distance from motorised access points has been used frequently in Australia. Another method being considered by the Australian Heritage Commission is based on the idea that minimum values (thresholds) for such parameters as size should vary in different environments. For example, taking a recreational approach, wilderness areas might need to be larger in flat open country than in mountainous terrain. The continent could therefore be divided into topographically homogeneous regions, and the thresholds for wilderness quality and size of a wilderness area would vary between these regions. Taking this approach further, the thresholds for wilderness quality and size in any region could be varied according to the relative scarcity or abundance of remote and natural areas in that region. In regions with few large wilderness areas, the size threshold may be set lower on the premise that the significance of the wilderness areas in a region can be determined within the context of that region. Again, such an approach needs to comprehend that there may need to remain a minimum size threshold, below which an area can not be considered a wilderness area, irrespective of relative scarcity within its region. This raises the question as to whether natural and remote areas should be considered important for their wilderness values, even if they are below a minimum size threshold. Preece (1992) argues the case for such areas and uses the teen wild areas, while recognising that their value in terms of recreation or biological wilderness values may be less than those of larger wilderness areas. This leads back to the idea that wilderness may broadly fit under social value, and that in this case, the best way to determine the values of such places may be to consult directly the community on the value it accords them. However, the results of any wilderness identification methodology, particularly when using surrogates to measure wilderness quality, must

be ground-truthed to ensure that the areas identified are consistent with the fundamental concepts held for wilderness. Management Issues A number of management issues have already been addressed, but there are two final points to make on this subject. The first is that while 1788 may be a useful theoretical bench mark from which to measure changes to the landscape, there is no serious widespread advocacy that wilderness management should try to recreate in Australia the evolving landscape as it appeared at that slice in time. Rather, the trend increasingly seems to be towards managing to maintain or restore wilderness quality within a matrix of other objectives that might otherwise compromise the primary objective, such as maintenance of artifacts of cultural importance. For each place, the mix of values needs to be considered, and management objectives need to be set accordingly. It may be that to optimise biological conservation, other wilderness values are compromised to a limited extent, although these impacts on wilderness values could be minimised by habitat management being conducted differently in a wilderness area to other areas. However, many land uses remain incompatible with the maintenance of wilderness, and any compromise of wilderness values in the 1990s has to be seen as diminishing a limited and important resource. Second, a major value of wilderness areas in Australia that is not itself a wilderness value is the critical importance of those areas to the traditional indigenous owners. Here, the identification of wilderness areas must be separated starkly from issues of land ownership and management. Increasingly, decisions on recognition of native title to identified wilderness areas will need to be made before land use and land management is considered. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I am extremely grateful for the assistance of a number of people who commented on drafts and provided useful material and ideas, including


colleagues within the Australian Heritage Commission. Much of the approach in this paper is based on the work of Robertson et al. (1992) and subsequent discussions with the authors.

Johnson, D. 1974. The Alps at the crossroads: The quest for an Alpine National Park in Victoria. Melbourne: VNPA. Johnston, C. 1992. What is social value? A discussion paper. Australian Heritage Commission Technical Publications Series 3. Canberra: AGPS.

REFERENCES Baird Lambert J. 1988. The need for legislative protection of wilderness in Australia. Thesis submitted at Mitchell College of Advanced Education.

Jones, R. 1968. The geographical background to the arrival of man in Australia and Tasmania. Archaeology and Physical Anthropology in Oceania. 3(3): 186-215 .

Carter, L. 1992. Wilderness and its role in the preservation of biodiversity: The need for a shift in emphasis. Australian Zoologist. 28(1-4):28-36.

—. 1969. Fire-stick farming. Australian Natural History. Sept. 1969:224-8. Lines, W. 1991. Taming the great south land: A history of the conquest of nature in Australia. North Sydney: Allen and Unwin.

Eidsvik, H. 1989. The status of wilderness: An international overview. Natural Resources Journal. 29:57-82.

Lesslie, R. 1993. The National Wilderness Inventory: Wilderness identification, assessment, and monitoring in Australia. In: International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research--5th World Wilderness Congress symposium (Tromso, Norway).

Flannery, T. 1990. Pleistocene faunal loss: Implications ofthe after shock for Australia's past and future. Archaeology and Physical Anthropology in Oceania. 25:45-67. Griffiths, T. 1991. History and natural history: Conservation movements in conflict? In: The humanities and the Australian environment--1990 Australian Academy of the Humanities symposium (Canberra), ed. J. Mulvaney.

Mosley, G. 1978. Methods of defining wilderness and the extent of wilderness in Australia. In: Australia's Wilderness, ed. G. Mosley. Melbourne: ACF. Noss, R. 1990. What can wilderness do for biodiversity? In: Preparing to Manage Wilderness in the 21st Century--Proceedings of the conference. USDA Forest Service, South Eastern Forest Experiment Station, General Technical Report SE-66. 49-61.

Hawes, M., and D. Heatley. 1985. Wilderness assessment and management. A discussion paper. Hobart: The Wilderness Society. Head, L. 1992. Australian Aborigines and a changing environment: Views of the past and implications for the future. In: Aboriginal involvement in parks and protected areas, eds J. Birckhead, T. De Lacey, and L. Smith. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press.

Pyne, S. 1991. Burning bush: A fire history of Australia. USA: Henry Holt. Preece, K. 1992. Wilderness conservation: The "quality" approach. Advances in Nature Conservation. 1:19-29.

Heiman, P., A. Jones, J. Pigram, and J. Smith. 1976. Wilderness in Australia: Eastern New South Wales and southeastern Queensland. Armidale: Department of Geography, University of New England.

Roberts, R., R. Jones, and M. Smith. 1990. Thermoluminescence dating of a 50,000year-old human occupation site in northern Australia. Nature. 345:153-6. 29


Robertson, M., K. Vang, and A. Brown. 1992. Wilderness in Australia: Issues and options. A discussion paper. Canberra: Australian Heritage Commission. Russell, J. 1992. Challenging history. A reply to Tom Griffiths. In possession of the author. University of Tasmania. Smith, P. 1978. What is wilderness to man? In: The southwest book: A Tasmanian wilderness, eds H. Gee and J. Fenton. Melbourne: ACF. Sultan, R. 1991. A voice in the wilderness: Aboriginal perspectives on conservation. Habitat. 19(3):2. Thompson, P., ed. 1986. Selected writings of Myles Dunphy. Sydney: Ballagirin. AUTHOR

Jonathan Miller Australian Heritage Commission G.P.O. Box 1567 Canberra, ACT 2601 Australia

KE


THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS INVENTORY: WILDERNESS IDENTIFICATION, ASSESSMENT, AND MONITORING IN AUSTRALIA ROB LESSLIE

The National Wilderness Inventory (NWI) is a continental wilderness survey and evaluation program for Australia. It was initiated in 1986 by the federal government, which recognised that a comprehensive survey and assessment of Australia's remaining wilderness resources was needed to assist in locating the nation's key wilderness areas and in formulating effective measures for wilderness protection and management.

of remote and natural conditions that vary in intensity from pristine to urban (Lesslie and Taylor, 1985). The NWI is implemented by measuring variation in wilderness quality across the landscape using four wilderness quality indicators that represent the two essential attributes of wilderness: remoteness and naturalness (Kirkpatrick,1979; and Lesslie and Taylor,1985). These derive from the definition of wilderness quality as the extent to which a location is remote from and undisturbed by the influence of modem technological society. The indicators are:

The NWI is not the first program to identify wilderness in Australia. Systematic surveys began in southeastern Australia during the 1970s (e.g., Helman et al., 1977; Russell et al., 1979; and Feller et al., 1979) using techniques broadly consistent with those developed in the United States a decade earlier (ORRRC, 1962). Indeed, by 1986 a preliminary national view of wilderness areas had been produced using these methods (Prineas, 1986).

• Remoteness from Settlement - How remote a site is from places of permanent human occupation. • Remoteness from Access - How remote a site is from established access routes. • Apparent Naturalness - The degree to which a site is free from the permanent structures associated with modern technological society.

The NWI program represents a continuation and extension of this work. It is best described as a database and set of techniques designed to enable the identification and evaluation of wilderness quality across the Australian landscape. While it can be used to produce a catalogue of wilderness areas of the sort typically produced by earlier surveys, it is primarily a decisionmaking tool to support such purposes as monitoring wilderness loss, defining management options, predicting the effects of development on wilderness values, and delineating areas for protection.

• Biophysical Naturalness - The degree to which a site is free from biophysical disturbance caused by the influence of modem technological society. Values for Remoteness from Settlement and Remoteness from Access are based on calculations of distance to settlement and access features. A weighing scheme is applied so that final remoteness values reflect the greater influence of, for example, a small town compared with a single farmhouse or a highway compared with a four-wheel drive track.

THE WILDERNESS ASSESSMENT PROCEDURE

Values for the Apparent Naturalness indicator are produced in a similar way, using measures of weighted distance to all structures. Biophysi-

Wilderness evaluation in the NWI is based on the concept of wilderness as part of a continuum 31


program is designed to support planning at all scales from national strategic planning through to local management planning so that survey resolution may be varied to suit required purposes. For the baseline NWI survey, standard resolutions are adopted. In temperate and more densely settled parts of the continent, the standard survey resolution is 500 metres. In the more and interior of the continent, the survey resolution is 1,000 metres.

of weighted distance to all structures. Biophysical Naturalness rating procedures are descriptive and expressed in terms of levels of land use intensity. A total wilderness quality index is produced by standardising and combining indicator class values. Indicator weighing may also be incorporated in this process as well as criteria to ensure wilderness quality assessments meet specific requirements. For instance, minimum thresholds for each indicator may be applied to exclude areas that do not meet minimum levels of remoteness and naturalness. The derivation of a wilderness quality index is illustrated in Figure 1. Details are provided in Lesslie and others

Figure 2 shows an example of the results produced in the baseline NWI survey using results produced for the State of Tasmania. This example shows wilderness quality estimates classified into eight groups ranging from high to low. Progress in the NWI baseline survey to August 1993 is illustrated in Figure 3. This index shows areas identified with high wilderness quality. It should be noted that the majority of high wilderness quality is located in the in and and semi-arid environments. Survey work is yet to be completed within the shaded areas.

(1993).

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USING THE WILDERNESS DATABASE The NWI survey work is generally conducted cooperatively with Australian State and Territory governments. This ensures that the best available primary data is used to produce wilderness assessments. It also encourages these governments to make use of NWI data in their own conservation planning, because responsibility for conservation and land management principally resides with State and Territory governments in Australia. The wilderness database is also generally accessible to the public.

^—

E

^

Figure 1. Deriving wilderness quality. Describing Wilderness Resources Producing maps of wilderness quality and indicator values is only one way of describing wilderness resources. Descriptions may be extended by associating either individual indicator or total wilderness quality values with other types of geographical information such as tenure, vegetation type, or land systems. Any geographical attribute that is considered relevant to the status of wilderness may be incorporated into these assessments.

WILDERNESS SURVEY RESULTS All natural areas are subject to survey in the NWI, although inclusion in the NWI does not necessarily mean that a place meets any particular definition of wilderness. Many chosen areas have remote and natural qualities well below what the general community would generally consider to be wilderness at present. The NWI

32


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Figure 2. Wilderness quality in Tasmania (after Lesslie, 1991).

Figure 3. National Wilderness Inventory progress to June 1993. 33


the many structures, land conditions, and other features that influence wilderness quality. Cleared agricultural land and major highways are examples of relatively permanent and irreversible features in the landscape by virtue of the magnitude of the impacts they cause. Other features may be considered unmanageable, where the cost of rehabilitation exceeds the benefits that could result from wilderness enhancement.

Figure 4 illustrates the manner in which an environmental attribute may be introduced into wilderness assessment. In this example, the distribution of tall old-growth eucalypt forest is examined. When the boundary of the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area is presented with the distribution of tall old-growth eucalypt that is also of moderate or high wilderness quality, the importance of the World Heritage Area for the future management and protection of this kind of wilderness is clearly evident.

Conversely, there are cultural features, land use activities, and other factors that influence wilderness quality that are more readily manageable. For some, the benefits of removal, in terms of wilderness enhancement, may exceed the benefits of retention. By using wilderness assessment techniques to show the influence that each factor has on wilderness quality, an understanding can be developed of where potential loss or gain to wilderness is most likely to occur, and where action may be taken to manage wilderness to best effect.

Examining Management Options An appreciation of why a particular location is of a certain quality can be important in evaluating its suitability as a wilderness or in determining an appropriate set of wilderness management actions. For instance, there is considerable variation in the degree of manageability among

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Figure 4. The wilderness quality of tall old-growth eucalypt forest in Tasmania (after Lesslic, 1991). 34


which should be considered for inclusion in wilderness protection systems, and how to best manage areas for the protection and enhancement of wilderness quality.

The impact on wilderness quality of proposed developments can be assessed in the same way. By incorporating features associated with a proposed development into the primary database, the resulting impact on wilderness quality may be predicted and compared with existing wilderness quality estimates.

Finally, flexibility in the NWI process is important to maintaining consistency and validity with community perceptions of the value of remote and natural lands as they evolve. Historical evidence shows that many remote and natural areas, disregarded in wilderness surveys conducted several decades ago, have become highly valued wilderness as the demand and supply situation has changed. This evolution will certainly continue, and the NWI has the capacity to adjust to this.

Wilderness Area Designation The identification of any area as wilderness is ultimately dependent upon whether its remote and natural characteristics are sufficient to warrant recognition. This involves dete rminin g the relative importance of wilderness quality, as well as weighing up the worth of competing land use claims. This can be achieved by the use of explicit evaluation and decision-making criteria and applying these to NWI results. Wilderness indices can, for instance, readily identify places that reach critical thresholds for remoteness and naturalness.

REFERENCES

Feller, M., D. Hooley, T. Dreher, I. East, and R. Jung. 1979. Wilderness in Victoria: An inventory. Clayton, Victoria: Department of Geography, Monash University.

THE IMPORTANCE OF FLEXIBILITY IN THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS INVENTORY

Helman, P., A. Jones, J. Pigram, and J. Smith. 1977. Wilderness in Australia: Eastern New South Wales and southeastern Queensland. Armidale: Department of Geography, University of New England.

The characteristic that underpins the NWI approach to wilderness survey and assessment in Australia is flexibility. This is embodied in the underpinning of the NWI in the wilderness continuum concept. It is also manifest in the use of GIS techniques to implement the program. Both are critical to giving the NWI a capacity to monitor change in wilderness resources at a time of rapidly accelerating landscape change.

Kirkpatrick, J. 1979. Hydroelectric development and wilderness in Tasmania. Hobart: Department of the Environment. Land Conservation Council. 1990. Wilderness: Special investigation descriptive report. Melbourne: Land Conservation Council.

Flexibility in the wilderness inventory and assessment process has also been essential to the role of the NWI in wilderness planning and management. This is especially true in the Australian context, given this country's complex political and administrative structures and the generally contentious nature of wilderness issues. The NWI has a particular advantage in that it provides a common, consistent, and objectively measurable database that may be used in the variety of processes and criteria that exist for determining which areas are wilderness,

Lesslie, R. 1991. Wilderness survey and evaluation in Australia. Australian Geographer. 22(1):35-43. Lesslie, R., D. Taylor, and M. Maslen. 1993. National Wilderness Inventory: Handbook of principles, procedures, and usage. Canberra: Australian Heritage Commission. Lesslie, R., and S. Taylor. 1985. The wilderness continuum concept and its implications for wilderness preservation policy. Biological Conservation. 32:309-33. 35


Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission. 1962. Wilderness and recreation: A report on resources, values, and problems. Wildland Research Centre, University of California, Study Report 3. Prineas, P., R. Lembit, and N. Fisher. 1986. Australia's wilderness: An inventory. Unpublished reporttothe Australian Heritage Commission. Russell, J., J. Matthews, and R. Jones. 1979. Wilderness in Tasmania. Centre for Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania, Occasional Paper 10. Wilderness Working Group. 1988. Wilderness and Wild Rivers Management Act. Unpublished report. AUTHOR Rob Lesslie Department of Geography University of Adelaide South Australia 5005 Australia

36


THE AUSTRALIAN SYSTEM OF COMMUNITY SUPPORT FOR NATIONAL PARKS AND WILDLIFE DENE CORDES

PREAMBLE

LOOKING BACK

The model of the successful community support scheme in South Australian national parks might well be applied to the wilderness areas of the world. When one ponders the future of wilderness and of national parks, taking into account the difficulties being experienced in tight fiscal times, one does well to heed the adage: "Look back and step forward." It may be time for national governments to put an end to the going it alone era and begin a future with greater

The national parks system in South Australia was established in 1891, in all probability based on the success of Yellowstone National Park— the first in the world--in 1872 and the Royal National Park--the first in Australia--in 1879. Belair National Park in South Australia was gazetted after a community campaign, which persisted for 14 years. People power won out due to the strong input of eminent citizens, the media, the local government, local organisations, and a parliamentary petition.

community involvement.

A study of South Australian national parks over the past 100 years reveals that the successful periods were highlighted by a strong community involvement. The periods of near collapse occurred when the Department of National Parks had a policy of going it alone and excluded the community from parks management.

For the next 80 years, the parks system (which contains many wilderness qualities) was maintained and administered by a small paid staff and voluntary Board of Commissioners. Funding came from a combination of government grants and revenue raised from the user-pays system. During those years, the National Parks Commission was highly regarded, and it skillfully developed among the citizens an emotional attachment towards the parks and their wilderness habitats and wildlife.

In 1992, the South Australia government passed the first Wilderness Act, which will operate in unison with the National Parks Act. The first wilderness areas have been gazetted, mostly within or adjacent to large national parks that have had minimal human impact. There are five areas on Kangaroo Island, totalling 68,281 hectares. A Wilderness Protection Committee was also established.

In 1972, there were about 70 national parks. The government decided to abolish its voluntary Board of Commissioners, brought in a new Act, and set out to go it alone. But this heralded the blackest decade in the history of South Australian parks. It coincided with a rapid expansion into rural areas where people were not accustomed to so many reserves. Nor were the local people accustomed to perceived restrictions on their access to and use of the reserved land. They were in the habit of using and abusing the land, with little consideration of the ecological values. Prosecutions were frequent, rather than encouraging the community through consultation, education, and interaction.

By looking back at the clear pattern of success when the community was encouraged to support its parks, the Department is able to step forward towards the 21st Century, using a sensible blend of public sector and community resources in staffing, funding, and park management. Whilst wilderness areas may not need the same degree of support within their boundaries, the public can play a vital role in their outward protection, interpretation, and management. 37


Soon, national parks became alien areas, and staff were rejected in communities. The emotional attachment by citizens towards conservation was quickly severed, and the media gave only bad publicity. No matter how good were the intentions and the Act, the government soon learned that without community support, preserving the wilderness was doomed to failure. Staff, too, were not selected because of people skills, but purely on the basis of knowledge. So hostile was the attitude towards these alien lands that meetings and rallies were called and attended by huge crowds of anti-park people. After 10 years, the Environment Minister was receiving about 600 letters per year--mostly complaints. The National Parks Act, if it was ever to be accepted, had to operate in a friendly community.

On my return to South Australia, this shared knowledge was applied, but in ways that would suit the State. It did not have a high population nor a great wealth, as did some other states. But what it did possess was a long line of proud, rural people and a solid network of rural communities. Even in the cities, this feeling of parochial, local ownership was prominent. It was this that we chose to tap. It was help just waiting to be used. We started up one new Friends of National Parks group after another until the entire State (which includes about 250 reserves, comprising about 25 percent of the State's land surface) had a Friends group nearby. So as people proudly cared for their local church, school, hall, and/or sporting grounds, we managed to get them to include THEIR LOCAL PARKS. In attendance at this Congress is Verne McLaren, who is from South Australia and serves as an Advisor on the Board of the World Wilderness Congress, as well as being the leader of the Australian contingent. There are a number of Friends of Parks delegates (at least 10) here in Tromso from South Australia. They will endorse my statement that wilderness in South Australia is getting amazing support from the Friends of Parks, Consultative Committees, and other volunteers. Land management is done in places that are often far distant from the nearest park rangers. These groups are self-funding and operate autonomously but in liaison with the National Parks Service. Funds are being raised. Cultural and social enjoyment has resulted, and above all, the education of the public and media support is now occurring at little or no cost. We looked back and stepped forward. We now operate from the front foot--not the back foot!

And so it is with wilderness areas, wherever they may be on the planet. First, they need people support, and then good things follow. Supportive people are quickly educated. And thus it was that in South Australia, the government embarked on a programme of community of support. Between 1980 and 1993, it has established 16 Consultative Committees, 74 Friends of National Parks groups, a Volunteers In Parks scheme, a National Parks Foundation, Campground Hosts, and a scheme to welcome international volunteers. All are voluntary organisations. The committees open channels of localized consultation. The Friends groups do manual work, as well as fund-raising and cultural and educational work. The Foundation has raised large sums of money and attracted gifts and bequests of land. The Hosts look after park visitors and are placed at venues and times of the most benefit.

The philosophy of local ownership has proven to be a winner in South Australia where the people now jealously protect their parks. No longer are they alien tracts of government land.

Some of these new initiatives came from our colleagues in the United States and Canada, who in 1985 welcomed me and shared with me many ideas for community involvement in conservation. This research opportunity came to me by way of a Sir Winston Churchill Memorial Fellowship and, therefore, it came at no cost to the government.

Within a friendly community, it is much easier to legislate for and set aside wilderness zones or areas. This has been achieved in South Australia with a minimum of opposition. Acknowledged in this regard at this Congress is Ashley Fuller, the Executive Officer of Wilderness Reserves in South Australia. 38


No doubt many delegates at this Congress can relate similar stories of successful community support. Perhaps some hope to do so in the future. However, the South Australian example, and that in other States of Australia, has been a success story that is nothing short of spectacular. It has been done at an absolute minimal cost, with our volunteers seeing conservation as a local community service. Our Consultative Committees are given no remuneration of any kind. Why do people serve in this way? Because the planet needs global protection, and it starts right in our own local areas. Wilderness is no different--it is just an area with little human impact, but it has just as great a need for management and people power.

It is not an exaggeration to say that this park has some of the most beautiful countryside in South Australia. There are artisan waters that form lakes and water holes at which wildlife and an abundance of birds can be seen. For the weary traveller, these areas--especially the famous Dalhousie Springs--provide welcome relief from the four-wheel-drive vehicles that are essential to visiting the desert park. In the Dalhousie Springs area, one can swim in the warm waters and marvel at the steam that can be seen in early mornings or the mass of trees and bushes, the flocks of birds, and also the peace that restores the mind and soul in such an isolated yet magnificent place.

In Australia, we have now formed an Association of National Parks Support Groups, with the Secretaries in South Australia. Hopefully, out of this Congress will come a resolution to support our intention of starting an International Federation of Parks Support Groups. If any delegates are interested in this idea, please leave your names and addresses with me.

The National Parks Service has insufficient funds to place ranger staff at Simpson Desert. Even if there were funds, this location for a ranger's family would be so remote, so hot, and so costly to maintain, that it is impractical. Thus, the nearest ranger station is at the small town of Hawker, some 560 kilometres away. The park is 870 kilometres from South Australia's capital city of Adelaide.

In the decades ahead, more than ever before, people power is going to be needed for the preservation of wilderness. Community support can offer hands-on support, wisdom, advice, a means of funding, and a strong voice to influence world governments. Following are three examples of how communities can help wilderness areas and national parks.

In Australia, where most people live on the eastern and southern coasts, the and in-lands hold a fascination for people who can now, with good four-wheel-drive vehicles, reach those places. Visitors flock to the Simpson Desert Park and are captivated by its splendour. But, this brings with it the usual problems of vandalism, safety, litter, etc. The Parks Service has an obligation (both legal and moral) to place and maintain signs, mark tracks, and provide information. To do this, the Service turned to the people for help.

CASE STUDY NUMBER ONE The Friends of the Simpson Desert Conservation Park The Simpson Desert Park is an area of approximately 170,000 square kilometres of land in the far north of South Australia. It was dedicated as a park in 1967 and again in 1988. The countryside is mainly a series of long, high sand dunes in a beautiful colour of ochre (red sand). It is covered in a multitude of green flora, grasses, and brightly coloured wild flowers that blossom shortly after rainfall, which most years totals less than four inches per year.

A Friends of Simpson Desert group was formed in 1986. It began with about 20 members and now has 153 members from all over Australia. It meets in Adelaide and communicates through a top-quality newsletter called FOS (Friends of Simpson). This is also the name given to the group's logo, depicting an Eyrean Grass Wren bird, which is rare and found in the park. 39


During the peak visitor seasons, volunteer Campground Hosts go to the park and camp there for up to two months. During this time, the Parks Service, at no cost, has a visible presence. The Hosts offer a warm welcome, collect camping fees (a Deserts Parks Pass), provide information, administer first aid, and ensure that camping is done at random sites and not right next to the fragile mound springs.

The Friends group maintains frequent and close liaison with the rangers and Hawker, and they jointly work on projects. These are planned for the winter when the temperature is cooler and the desert is in bloom. The Friends group has excelled in four ways: 1) physical; 2) cultural and educational; 3) social; and 4) financial. The group brought in other organisations such as the Association of Four Wheel Drive Clubs, and this swelled its strength and membership.

The Friends of Simpson Desert was chosen as the Outstanding Friends Group for 1993 and has been a true example of people power helping the wilderness of Australia. The staff of the Far North Region should take a lot of credit for this group's success. It has been a joint effort.

The great Desert Clean-Up of 1992 involved 50 vehicles from all over Australia, and an outlay by the vehicle owners of AUS$250,000, to get to the desert and work for ten days. They brought out tons of rubbish. They repaired bore pumps and pipes, built a radio mast, and installed a Flying Doctor desert radio for use by lost or ill people. They fenced around threatened geological knolls, put in re-vegetation plots and enclosures, and put up track marker posts. For the National Parks Service, a small outlay of funds to send a ranger or two on the excursion was well worth the money. And the return in work contributed, public relations, and community education was worth tens of thousands of dollars.

CASE STUDY NUMBER TWO The Friends of Butchers Gap Conservation Park

This park is a coastal area in southeast Australia. It comprises only 178 hectares of land and freshwater lagoons, and yet its habitat is vital for the survival of one of the State's most rare birds--the Orange Bellied Parrot. There are only 200 of these birds left in Australia, and one third of them migrate to South Australia every year for the winter. Most are to be seen at Butchers Gap, where the food supply of samphire and other native plants is essential to their survival.

This kind of work also goes on, at random, when Friends are on private trips to the area or on an annual trek. A great deal of help comes by way of Friends doing wildlife recording and monitoring. Some have given us records going back 10 to 12 years. Photography and heritage site restoration and maintenance has also been done. A storage shed was erected. Cultural/educational evenings convened by the Friends in Adelaide are so popular that bookings are taken for admission. Funds are thus raised, and the public is educated and treated to the culture of Australia's marvelous desert lands.

The Friends of Butchers Gap formed in 1984 and has only 15 members. But they have consistently performed their role in an outstanding way, and they won the Friends Group of the Year Award in 1990. These are just a few of their achievements:

Each vehicle collects litter whenever in the area, and marker posts are maintained. Brochures have been produced and funded by Friends.

• established photo points and regularly used these, with records in albums;

The nearest ranger is 60 kilometres away and has numerous other parks to manage. Butchers Gap used to be the local dumping area for rubbish, from the nearby town of Kingston, and old car bodies. Shooting, weeds, and feral cats were also major problems.

CIF


• compiled albums of photographs of every plant, bird, and animal found in the park;

CASE STUDY NUMBER THREE The Friends of Old Government House and the Friends of Fort Glanville

• embarked on an impressive program of weed control and re-vegetation work;

Within most national parks reserves and wilderness areas, there are some heritage sites that link today with the past. People feel strongly about the preservation and upkeep of these sites, which is required under the National Parks Act.

• installed and maintains walking trail along with guide posts and self-guided walk brochures;

This presents a problem to the agency, concerned, because they need money and staff to upkeep the sites. And every dollar and ranger hour saved represents resources that can be diverted to the natural habitat and wilderness areas.

• conducts walks for the public; • removed numerous old, rusted car bodies and rid the park of domestic rubbish; • studied the local flora;

Some people feel that the upkeep of heritage sites within reserves is an unnecessary obligation, a nuisance, and a low priority. But the history of humankind is important and in many instances, it is by visiting heritage sites that the public develops its first contact with the surrounding wilderness areas.

• adopted a local school; • provides annually, a display and information booth at local agricultural shows; • performs fund-raising;

In South Australia, by starting up Friends of Old Government House and Friends of Fort Glanville, we have achieved a great deal. Old Government House is a former summer Vice-Regal residence of South Australian governors. It is situated in the Belair National Park (the first in South Australia and the eighth oldest in the world), where up to one million people go each year. The heritage complex is furnished in Victorian era splendour and has a beautiful heritage-style garden.

• hosted a state-wide Forum of National Parks Friends Groups; • extended their care to several other parks that have no rangers; • interchanges and visits with other Friends groups in the region; • adopted for their logo the Orange Bellied Parrot, and spread the word to enhance its survival and habitat; and

This Friends group formed 10 years ago and now has 100 members. They open the premises and guide the public. They clean the complex, take private group bookings, host weddings and music recitals, and convene popular exhibitions of Victorian era crafts and produce. Souvenirs and high-quality items of heritage style are sold. Preservation and display work is also performed.

• slashed fire breaks with local farmers' machinery. Contact with the ranger is regular and most cordial and productive. The Park is too small and isolated to warrant a resident ranger. Thus, the Friends group has filled that role. And its habitat is essential for the survival of parrots and other rare birds. This is an example of a small band of people saving and promoting wildlife and wilderness.

Funds raised each year exceed AUS$20,000, on top of which savings in staff is AUS$35,000 or 41


CONCLUSION

more. All of these resources were previously provided by the National Parks Service. Now, the staff and resources have been transferred out to the magnificent parks and natural wilderness of the Fleurieu Peninsula.

Throughout the world, there is no country that could not turn to its people and welcome their help towards preserving a wilderness area. There are tracks to be constructed, maintained, and interpreted. There are signs, shelters, and fences to be maintained. There are feral weeds and animals to be managed. There is a need for public education and information, in part to explain why wilderness is vital for the survival of the planet. These things can be achieved, with good organisation and internal cooperation, in any nation, now and in the future.

This is a prime example of how an urban population is supporting the wilderness of South Australia, but they are doing it via a heritage site near to their homes and in a way which they feel comfortable and capable. This group joins in the forums and activities with other groups that directly support wilderness areas. It is similar at Fort Glanville, a conservation park in which is one of the world's best preserved military and naval forts. The Friends group formed in 1980 and has about 40 members whose efforts have been exceptional. They upgraded a unused, vandalised fort into a premier tourist attraction, with public Open Days, 1880s-style uniformed soldiers, drill parades, musket volleying, canon firing, museum, and flag ceremonies. A Visitor Centre has been built in which the public can buy souvenirs, view displays, and obtain refreshments.

AUTHOR Dene Cordes Friends of National Parks South Australia

The park has been re-vegetated and upgraded, and the fort complex restored and furnished. Thousands of people go to the area, and funds are all collected by volunteers. Each year, the soldiers preform in uniform and act as ushers at the Grand Prix in Adelaide. This has raised over AUS$120,000 in a few years. Tens of thousands of dollars are raised by Open Days and other fundraisers, each year saving the National Parks Service a great deal of resources in money and staff. Once again, one must look at the value of those resources being spent out in the parks and wilderness areas where, by public demand, they would have had to be spent at a prime heritage site in a metropolitan park. Both Friends groups (Old Government House and Fort Glanville) have been adjudged as Friends Group of the Year in recent years. They serve to remind us that people can help the wilderness, both at the wilderness areas and at heritage sites. 42


COMMUNITY MANAGEMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES IN WILDLAND AREAS: THE KWAZULU EXPERIENCE WAYNE ELLIOTT NICK STEELE INTRODUCTION

for conserving the natural environment of KwaZulu, the Bureau has a fundamental policy that local communities must derive tangible and financial benefits from conservation. Included is the active participation of local communities in the management of the environment, in particular the wildlands and protected areas of KwaZulu. Aware of the threats of rural poverty, unsustainable population growth, and insufficient responsibility and accountability for the integrity of the environment, the organisation strives to make conservation relevant to the ordinary people who depend on natural resources for their survival. A management programme based on sound ecological principles allows for the sustainable utilisation ofthe natural resources. It is widely recognised in South Africa that the KBNR has one of the most progressive conservation policies and indeed is well placed to face the challenges of the future.

The current forces of change occurring in South Africa have, in a sense, released unexpected pressures on the natural environment. A new government, acutely aware of having to meet the expectations of the majority of South Africans, citizens who for the first time are able to vote, will no doubt place priority on education, health services, and socio-economic upliftment (Beck and Linscott, 1991). There are already a number of fora dealing with these issues on a national level. Importantly, the natural environment, it would seem, has yet to be given a priority status and only of late has there been an effort in establishing a national environmental forum. Whatever the future may hold in terms of a new political dispensation in South Africa, it is widely recognised that local communities, be these urban or rural, are going to have a much more influential role to play in the management of the natural environment. Historically, conservation bodies have been somewhat doctrinaire and elitist in formulating policies and strategies.

Community management is founded on two major policies. Firstly, it is the fundamental right of the locals living adjacent to a proclaimed area to have access to that area for their specific needs, such as collecting herbs, fishing, and recreation. Secondly, the local communities earn a percentage per annum of the revenue from any tourist facility that has been or will be established in any proclaimed area.

KwaZulu is a self-governing territory within the province of Natal. It's characterised by controlling fragmented areas--a legacy of the apartheid era, increasing human populations on marginal lands, and the resultant rural poverty and environmental degradation. This appears a typical Third World scenario in which the natural environment rapidly becomes degraded and people more impoverished.

WILDLAND MANAGEMENT IN KWAZULU The wildlands of KwaZulu are managed in three ways, each significantly different in terms of the roles played by the local communities and the Bureau. These are firstly, management of proclaimed areas (e.g., game and nature reserves); secondly, tribal game reserves and community

The KwaZulu Bureau of Natural Resources (KBNR) was founded 11 years ago and, having to operate in a Third World situation, quickly recognised the fundamental interaction of people, resources, and the environment. Responsible 43


the fish and other resources within this proclaimed area, the conservation authority provides the scientific knowledge to determine levels of harvest and monitors the system.

conservation areas; and finally, the natural environment that has no conservation status. In order to explain the participation of the communities, it is important to briefly mention the main characteristics of the respective areas.

This arrangement has proved to be successful and is working in most of the reserves. As focal points of the conservation effort, communities are actively encouraged to identify and manage natural resources.

Proclaimed Areas Proclaimed areas include all the game and nature reserves in KwaZulu, of which there are a total of 14 to date. Areas under protection range from mountains in the West, typical Zululand bushveld, large stretches of unspoilt coastline, and importantly unique estuaries and lake systems.

The community conservation areas have the potential of proving highly successful given the recent emphasis on ecotourism. These areas are set aside by the community as conservation areas to be jointly managed by the Bureau and the relevant community. Fencing and equipment is supplied by the conservation authority as is the necessary scientific knowledge in order to manage these areas. A number of such reserves have been established, often after lengthy negotiations with the relevant communities, where land distribution is a sensitive issue, particularly at this time of political change in South Africa. Certain communities are now in the process of establishing tourist facilities within these conservation areas and have become partners with both the private and public sectors in developing appropriate ecotourism ventures..

Tribal Game Reserves and Community Conservation Areas Historically, reserves have mostly been used by the white segment of the South African population with the reserves sometimes being viewed as elitist retreats. Added to this is the fact that all reserves are surrounded by rural communities that have traditional claims to the land. Most of these areas protect unique or endangered ecosystems and are particularly vulnerable to the demands of increased use (Mountain, 1990). To allow for meaningful participation in the management of the resources, local communities are allowed to harvest resources according to scientifically researched standards of sustainability. Reserve management meetings are attended by representatives from the relevant communities, whose task is to liaise with both the Bureau and their communities.

A good example of community participation is the new development at Lake Sibaya. This is the largest freshwater lake in southern Africa and is surrounded by a number of tribes. The Mabaso tribe, in particular, has shown initiative and set aside a tract of land adjoining the lake as a conservation area. This has attracted considerable interest from private sector developers and under guidance from the Bureau, the community will develop a major tourism facility in this conservation area. There is no doubt that the setting aside of community conservation areas stimulates the development of appropriate ecotourism ventures and allows the community to actively participate in the management of both the tourism development and the natural environment. Fundamental to the continued protection of these wildlands is the successful participation of the local community as business partners and natural resource managers.

A good example to illustrate how successfully this is working is the situation at Kosi Bay Nature Reserve. This reserve protects a unique lake system that traditionally has been used by local communities as a food resource. Thousands of tons of fish are harvested annually, supporting large numbers of people and providing an important protein source to the region. The Bureau does not dictate who is allowed to fish nor influences the distribution of the harvest. The communities manage the utilisation of 44


Natural Environment with No Conservation Status

environment. An operational style that is sensitive to the needs and priorities of communities without compromising the integrity of the natural environment is vital.

Apart from the proclaimed areas and tribal game reserves and community conservation areas, the majority of KwaZulu's natural environment has no official conservation status. This land is controlled at a local level by the numerous tribal authorities and conservation organisations fulfill the role of environmental watchdog. The pressing social problems and a rapidly degrading natural environment call for innovative measures in working towards creating environmental policies that accommodate the needs of the local communities.

The wildlands of KwaZulu hold great potential for meaningful participation by local communities in managing natural resources. It is generally recognised that many areas hold an extraordinary ecotourism potential, and it is in this regard that community management has the best chance to succeed (Fowkes, 1991). The Bureau has embarked on an extensive tourism drive in which relevant local communities are included as equal partners from the beginning. Developments within proclaimed areas are driven by private-sector forces and include local communities as business partners. The communities are becoming involved to such a degree that the continued protection of these areas and wise use of the natural resources now results in direct financial benefits to the relevant community. Ecotourism developments in community conservation areas have to include the local communities as partners. In the rest of KwaZulu, local communities have not always realised their rightful place as partners in a tourism development, and in some cases, any form of economic benefit has been lost to that particular community.

These tribal wards cover vast and often remote areas in which unique and sensitive ecosystems occur. There are many small indigenous forests under threat, particularly in the remote valleys of the Drackensberg. Local communities are often hostile to conservation staff, and it is extremely difficult to initiate management programmes in these areas. Interestingly, some local communities have a vested interest in protecting the forests, as they provide ideal concealment for the extensive cannabis crops that are grown under the forest canopy. It is important to develop an understanding of the dynamics of a particular local community and adapt management programmes to be relevant to that area. Rural poverty, unsustainable population growth, and accountability for the integrity of the natural environment are the main issues concerning community management of natural resources in the unproclaimed wildlands of KwaZulu. As a conservation organisation, the Bureau has had to broaden its expertise and develop a holistic approach to managing the utilisation of resources in consultation with, and with participation by, local communities. As is the case with management of the forests in the mountains, compromises have to be reached in allowing local communities to participate in the management of these resources. The biggest challenge facing the conservation authorities in these areas is to develop a sense of accountability on the part of local communities to the natural

The new challenges facing conservation organisations in South Africa have meant a continuous reassessment of policies and strategies. Perhaps dangerously so, increased emphasis is being placed on the potential of ecotourism in realising large financial returns and supporting that often used slogan: "If it pays, it stays." Given the increasing pressures facing conservation bodies in a new South Africa, this trend of thought is understandable but holds inherent dangers, in particular when involving local communities in the management of wildlands that have tourism potential. The continued emphasis on monetary benefits without encouraging the development of accountability and respect for the land is a short-sighted strategy sure to fail. The real challenge facing conservation and environmental organisations is to move beyond sim45


The abundance of meat and natural resources contributed greatly to the growth of the Zulu nation, resulting in a group of people with distinct social customs and laws and an army, which in the early 1820s probably was the most formidable south of the Zambezi River. The Zulu people of that time lived in the wilderness, constructed their dwellings from its natural resources, and clothed and armed their mighty army from its products. Wilderness also provided the spiritual power on which they built their faith. During their time, the land was a paradise, and their imprint on it was negligible.

ply the notions of sustainable development and socio-economic upliftment and indeed develop and encourage an environmentally friendly, green and holistic mindset in which the above strategies are founded. The challenge of reconstructing a lifestyle to achieve the desired global ethic of social justice and environmental responsibility was well documented in the 1991 publication, "Caring for the Earth: A Strategy for Sustainable Living." This report identified a number of principles for sustainable development, amongst which were the following:

Webb and Wright (1987) note that King Cetshwayo, the Zulu ruler up to 1879, lamented the arrival of the white colonials in their land. With acute awareness of the realities he said: "First came the trader, then the missionary, then the red-coated soldier."

• respect and care for the community of life; • conserve Earth's vitality and diversity; • change attitudes and practices; and

From that time in 1879 when a cataclysmic and devastating war was fought against the Zulu nation by Queen Victoria's British Army, Zulu sovereignty was dashed along with their fine army and in the end the wilderness from whose bosom came their genesis.

• enable communities to care for their own environment. It is interesting to compare these principles against the traditional lifestyle of the Zulus and indeed note the fact that empowerment of local communities in decision-making processes is vital in order to realise the above principles.

The KwaZulu of today is simply a relict of the Zulu historical domain. The physical and spiritual attachment to the land is in danger of being rapidly overshadowed and indeed ignored.

Against this background, it is worthwhile to place the current environmental policies in a historical context. Before the first influx of white traders, missionaries, soldiers, and farmers, KwaZulu was a land of enormous extent, abundant with natural resources and wildlife.

A fundamental aspect in encouraging local communities to manage resources and develop an accountability for the land must lie in enhancing the inherent cultural values related to the environment. By allowing communities to participate in this management is an exciting and necessary development. The successful conservation of KwaZulu's wildlands lies in meaningful participation in joint management programmes.

Rivers cascaded from the heights of the Drackensberg Mountains down rocky beds, spilling into the green hills of Natal and ultimately emptying into the Indian Ocean. Wildlife from elephant to the tiny grey duiker were plentiful across the land, the former's ivory supplying the only currency the Zulu's really knew at that time and the grey duiker providing meat for the humblest rural dweller.

The real challenge lies in rediscovering the spiritual relationship to the land and indeed developing an appropriate land ethic.

46


REFERENCES Beck, D., and G. Linscott. 1991. The crucuble: Forging South Africa's future. Johannesburg: New Paradigm Press. Fowkes, J. 1991. An assessment of the advantages, disadvantages, and implications of private-sector involvement in tourism development in and adjacent to conservation areas in KwaZulu. Unpublished report. Mountain, A. 1990. Paradise under pressure. Johannesburg: Southern Books. Webb, C., and J. Wright. 1987. A Zulu king speaks. Pietermaritzburg: University ofNatal Press. World Conservation Union/United Nations Environment Programme/World Wide Fund for Nature. 1991. Caring for the Earth: A strategy for sustainable living. Gland, Switzerland: IUCNJUNEPIW WF. AUTHORS Wayne Elliott Nick Steele KwaZulu Bureau of Natural Resources Ulundi, South Africa

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INTEGRATING CONSERVATION AND SUSTAINABLE RURAL DEVELOPMENT AT SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE ROLAND GOETZ K. RALF DEDEKIND

• First there was commercial hunting. In Africa, this was hunting for skins and ivory.

INTRODUCTION The history of thinking about sustainable development is closely linked to the history of environmental concern and peoples' attitudes to nature (Adams, 1990).

• Commercial hunting then progressed to where it subsidised European advancement in Africa (i.e., meat for railway construction workers).

To understand the value of the above statement, it is imperative to examine the major aspects that have contributed to the evolution of the term sustainable development, as we know it today. Following this, it is critical that the meaning of the term sustainable development is clearly understood. Only once sustainable development has been defined within the context it is to be applied, can it be established what actions would have to be prioritized in an area for sustainable development to proceed with any degree of success.

• With time, the above gave way to trophy hunting. In Africa, this was mainly practised by Europeans who came to Africa either to settle or specifically to hunt. Large numbers of animals were killed during this extended period of free-for-all hunting.

THE ORIGINS OF NATURE CONSERVATION AND RELATED INTERNATIONAL ORGANISATIONS

This resulted in western European countries pushing for a international body to promote conservation. Various conservation organisations, which for various reasons did not enjoy great success, were established before 1946. In 1946, the first international conservation group of note was established at a conference in Bale. The newly established organisation was known as the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) (Adams, 1990). Since then, various international organizations have been established and have enjoyed varying degrees of success. Examples of such organisations are the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), the World Conservation Union (IUCN), and the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED). It is largely due to organisations of this nature that the concept of sustainable development has been promoted and pursued.

Internationally, nature conservation has, more often than not, been the main underlying factor for the evolution of sustainable development thinking. Often, this is still the case today. To illustrate this, some background is necessary. Since the 19th century, the known First World, and subsequently its colonies, have proclaimed various areas protected areas of some sort. The number and importance of these areas have escalated with time. According to Mackenzie (1987) in Green Development: Environment and Sustainability in the Third World (Adams, 1990), there are three main reasons for the increase in number and importance of protected areas. The example of Africa will be referred to here. In approximately chronological order:

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DEFINING SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT The term sustainable development and various aspects thereof have become popular in research and environmental policy formulation, and the meaning of the term has often been used with different and even opposing meanings. It has, therefore, become critical that the aspects which constitute the term sustainable development be analyzed. The origins of the term sustainable development go back many decades, but the growing interest and importance of the term became evident when it was promoted by "Our Common Future," the report of the World Commission on Environment and Development (also known as the Bruntland Commission), which was published in 1987. Today, there are at least 80 different definitions of sustainable development or some part of it. It would, therefore, be impossible to single out one or a few definitions as correct. Instead, the constitution of sustainable development will be analyzed, and hopefully this will lead to a clearer understanding of the meaning of the term. Sustainable development brings together two strands of thought about the management of human activities: firstly concentrating on development goals and secondly on controlling or limiting the harmful impacts of human activities on the environment. At this stage, it is vital to remember that the collective term simultaneously concerns ecological, social, political, and economic aspects, with all aspects having the same level of importance attached to them. This has not been the case in the past where most discussions on sustainable development have concentrated on ecological sustainability. When analysing the sustainability aspect of sustainable development, there is no consensus in international literature as to what is meant by social, economic, and political sustainability.

The only common thread that could be considered through all the literature is that social, economic, and political goals have to be sustainable in a ecological sense, because human life and well-being depends on this. In order to reach the point where a society displays the characteristics (i.e., continuity of existence) of social, economic, and political sustainability, fundamental changes will have to take place. This can hardly then be equated with social sustainability (continuity). Therefore, the sustainability aspect of sustainable development will only apply to ecological sustainability in this paper. The developmental aspect of sustainable development would apply to the social, economic, and political development of the people of a specific region in order that, according to Brundtland (1987), "the needs of the present generation may be met within the carrying capacity of the relevant region." The combination of a range of development goals and the achievement of sustainable levels ofresource use requires the simultaneous achievement of social, economic, political, and ecological goals; although there are strong synergies between many of these, overall, their combination will require trade offs (Hardoy et al., 1992). Sustainable development requires a specific way of life within a region's ecological means. At the same time, sustainable development is not a static state of existence, but it is a dynamic process of change, improving the standard of living of those concerned. This is what Shongweni Resources Reserve (SRR) perceives as sustainable rural development and aims to achieve through an integrated process of holistic planning and the participation of all who stand to benefit from the project. GEOGRAPHIC LOCATION OF SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE Shongweni Resources Reserve is located approximately 45 kilometres west of Durban in the province of Natal, South Africa.


The S.R.R. project was initiated because it was recognised that the area is valuable with respect to its biotic diversity. The reserve also provides a unique opportunity to explore the potential of integrating environmental conservation and sustainable rural community development. This approach to land use and resource management could not only be a model in South Africa, but also for most of the developing world.

A HISTORICAL OVERVIEW OF THE SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE PROJECT Work began on the Shongweni Dam in 1923, and was completed in 1927, forming part of the Umlaas water supply system, serving southern Durban. In establishing the dam, the Durban Corporation also gained control of an estate of approximately 1,500 hectares.

A PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE

Umgeni Water, a statutory water supply authority, took over the Umlaas reticulation system in 1983 and, realizing its limited future viability, soon decided to phase it out of operation. Conscious that the Shongweni Estate would inevitably become environmentally degraded unless properly managed, Umgeni Water began seeking an organisation prepared to undertake its management.

As previously mentioned, the reserve constitutes some 1,500 hectares. Of this, the dam comprises a surface area of approximately 85 hectares. The main vegetation type, covering 500 to 800 hectares, is Acock's 23a Valley Bushveld, Northern Variation. Grasslands cover 200 to 250 hectares. Woodlands, rich in forbs and grass species, cover 50 to 100 hectares. There is also 80 to 100 hectares of valley bottom woodlands.

An offer was made to the Natal Parks Board in 1986, but the offer was not accepted. Subsequent approaches to the KwaZulu Bureau of Natural Resources and to the Wildlife Society were similarly unsuccessful.

The SRR is immediately adjacent to the village of eDamini--sometimes called Salem--to the northeast. The village of Ntshongweni lies to the west of the dam. The densest settlement is to the southeast of the dam, namely the township of KwaNdengezi. The land to the southwest of the dam is sparsely populated and essentially rural in character. The major formal economic activity around the dam is sugar cane farming.

In its search for an alternative solution, Umgeni Water commissioned a strategic planning exercise. It was at this stage that Dr Ian Player first became involved. Dr Player proposed to Umgeni Water that the Wilderness Leadership School (WLS) take over the management of the Shongweni Estate. Umgeni Water, committed to a sound environmental management policy, undertook to fund the project until such time as the venture became more financially viable.

SHONGWENI RESOURCES RESERVE'S MODEL FOR SUSTAINABLE RURAL COMMUNITY DEVELOPMENT AND ENVIRONMENTAL RESOURCE MANAGEMENT The conservation of resources and ecosystems is not incompatible with rural development, but rather, it is compatible with the growing demand for people-centred development that achieves a wider distribution of benefits to whole populations, that makes fuller use of people's labour, capabilities, motivation, and creativity, and that is more sensitive to cultural heritage (Erskine,

This proposal was excepted by Umgeni Water, but in order to avoid endangering the WLS 's taxexempt fundraising status, it was necessary to create two new companies: Msinsi Holdings-100 percent owned by the Wilderness Memorial Trust, which administers trust funds on behalf of the WLS--and SRR--100 percent owned by Msinsi Holdings.

1985).

50


The benefits referred to above would include better nutrition, health, education, and family welfare, fuller employment, greater income security, and protection from environmental degradation. Pivotal to these benefits is the prevention of environmental degradation through the sustainable utilization of renewable natural resources. How can this be done?

identify possible threats, both current and potential future threats to the Reserve's quality; and • establish the needs of the surround ing local communities, both regard ing their relationships to the Reserve with respect to natural resources utilization and their needs to improve their standard of living.

Besides the various management strategies, the integration of sustainable development and natural resources conservation can be achieved through the establishment of an environmental political commonage by an organisation such as the SRR. It is possible in future years, as the availability of natural resources decreases and population numbers increase, that conflicts concerning the consumption of certain resources will occur. This is not a desirable scenario and, therefore, it is in the interests of the SRR to manage their resources in such a manner that they can facilitate a political commonage between conflicting groups.

Once these initial steps had been established, the management proceeded to develop a pro-active management plan, which addresses the above three steps and achieves the ultimate goal of successfully integrating conservation and sustainable rural community development at SRR (i.e., where the ecological quality of the reserve improves and the local communities enjoy the benefits referred to above). The pro-active management plan constitutes two main sections, namely macro-scale management goals and strategies and micro-scale management strategies.

For example, there was one water tap on a certain side of the a road in a low-income residential area. Water was a scarce resource at the time. The result was that the people who lived on the side of the road on which the tap was situated believed that the water belonged to them exclusively and, therefore, conflict arose between them and the people who lived on the side of the road where there was no tap, but who also needed water. It would, therefore, be in the interest of the greater Shongweni region if the SRR managed their resources in such a manner so as to avoid potential conflicts and establish an environmental political commonage for the SRR area.

MACRO-SCALE MANAGEMENT GOALS AND STRATEGIES Community Liaison and Participation The critical variables that could lead to the success or failure of the SRR project are the perceptions, attitudes, and actions of the local communities residing on the boundaries of the Reserve. Consequently, it is critical that the position and policy (i.e., of the neighbours and mutual benefits) of SRR be conveyed to the community at large. Therefore, it is essential that all macro, as well as some micro, management strategies be discussed with the communities and that these management strategies focus to a large extent on extensive community participation. Macro management strategies would then all include community liaison and participation as essential elements.

The way the management of the SRR approaches the challenge of integrating conservation and sustained rural community development is to: • identify and document the natural resources of the Reserve in the form of a natural inventory; 51


Because it has been established that natural resources utilization % ithin the reserve has not been kept within its carrying capacity, the long-term macro management policy of population stabilisation needs to be examined more carefully.

There is generally little contention that the everincreasing population pressure from expanding rural populations, especially in developing countries, is the major and/or related factor that threatens the environment's potential to sustain the Earth's population. Therefore, in order for humans to co-exist with nature in any sustainable fashion, the question of population stabilization has to be addressed.

There are many factors that act together to determine population size. These include access to family planning services, family income and security, maternal and child health care, women's status in society, education for both men and women, and religious and cultural factors. Various strategies can be introduced to deal with the above mentioned factors, but it is critical that all of these factors be addressed within these macro management strategies in order to achieve population stabilization.

Before we can examine actions towards population stabilization, we have to understand the concept of human carrying capacity. The most common definition of human carrying capacity is "the maximum population size that an environment can support on a continuing basis." In reality, the situation is not that simple. A distinction has to be made between maximum and optimal carrying capacity. Maximum carrying capacity is defined as "the maximum allowable population size that, while theoretically sustainable, exists at the threshold and is vulnerable to even small changes in the environment." Optimal caring capacity, on the other hand, is "a smaller more desirable population size that is less vulnerable to environmental disturbance" (Odum, 1985, in Brown et a!, 1987).

The first and all-embracing strategy would be to provide education for all sectors of the community (i.e., both young and old), concerning the importance of resources conservation and population stabilisation. Here, it is important for governmental and non-governmental bodies to offer formal, as well as informal, education to the people. Education is the one strategy which, if introduced by the correct means, could make a real impact on population stabilisation in the long run. This view is supported by the IUCN, United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), and the WWF. To this end, the SRR has employed a full-time education officer.

Although these distinctions do clarify the meaning of the term human carrying capacity, the fact remains that it is still difficult to quantify the carrying capacity of a specific area. To this end, Ophuls (1977), in Brown et al. (1987), argues that the carrying capacity of an area has already been exceeded "whenever one can observe dangerous levels of pollution, serious ecological degradation, or widespread disturbance of natural balances." This argument is by far the most tangible conceptualization of the term human carrying capacityofan area; and ifthe SRR were to be evaluated in terms of this argument, it would be evident that the current rate of renewable natural resources utilisation by local communities is not within the confines of its carrying capacity This would be most evident through the widespread disturbances of natural ecological balances. The above correlates with results of field work conducted on small mammals by Dr P. Taylor of the Durban Natural Sciences Museum.

The second strategy would be to improve maternal and child health care, addressing aspects such as: • prenatal and postnatal care at local levels; • educating whole families on the importance of simple hygiene; and • the local availability of family plan rang services. These services should be provided in the various local communities and be administered by qualified personnel from that community and under 52


the supervisionofa district medical centre (IUCN/ UNEP/WWF, 1992). In support of the above, some of the surrounding communities have indicated that clinics are in desperate need in their areas. In response to this, the SRR has managed to secure finances for the establishment of clinics in some of these areas. Thirdly, it is important that the opportunities exist for families to, and that they are encouraged to, become economically and socially selfsufficient. This would negate one of the traditional reasons for large families. Presently, the SRR employs a substantial number of people from the surrounding communities, both on full-time and part-time bases. It is the management's policy to utilise the skills of the local community so that the area can benefit from the economic opportunities. Where certain skills are not available, the management has undertaken to train one or more local community members in the needed skill areas and then employ these people on a contract basis, after which they will be able to contract themselves out to other employers. Major developments within the SRR in the near future will result in many more employment opportunities that will be filled by local community members. These developments, which will take the form of conference facilities, overnight accommodations, and restaurants will create many economic spin-offs. Examples of these spin-offs include fresh produce gardens to supply the restaurants and maintenance teams contracted to serve the above-mentioned developments. A novel concept that will be developed at SRR is the idea of community controlled conservation camps. Here, areas of community land adjacent to the reserve will be fenced into the reserve. In these areas, bush camps or similar overnight accommodations will be built. These camps will be maintained and administered directly by the community, and all monies will be utilised for the development of the various communities concerned. The conservation and fencing expenses will be paid for by the reserve. This

concept has enormous economic potential for the individual communities. With these and more economic opportunities that will arise due to the presence of SRR, a level of economic and, therefore, social independency could be attained. If relevant education, affordable and easily available health care, and adequate economic opportunities are created within the context of the local community, the longterm goal of population stabilization and resources conservation could be attained. Shongweni Dam Catchment Rehabilitation Programme

The ecological quality of the reserve largely depends on the way in which the Umlaas Catchment is utilized. The catchment is badly degraded, there is easy access to the area. It is, therefore, imperative that a catchment rehabilitation committee be initiated and that various individuals with direct interests in the catchment be elected onto this committee. These individuals should include members from local communities, industrialists and local farmers, etc. This programme is of critical importance with respect to the success of the greater SRR project, and it is in the interest of all concerned that this programme becomes a reality. Integration into the Regional Durban Metropolitan Open Space Systems Initiative In terms of regional planning, the SRR project falls within the greater Durban Functional Region. It would be beneficial, and the process is already in motion, for SRR to be linked into the Durban Metropolitan Open Space Systems (D'MOSS) initiative. Linking into D'MOSS would not only be beneficial because of integration into regional planning and specialist input, but also because of possible financial benefits from which all could benefit. Baseline Study/Evaluation/Monitoring and Trends

Environmental and socio-economic baseline studies for the greater Shongweni area are as


important to the success of the project as the community integration mentioned earlier. Baseline studies are important because they enable the project management to evaluate situations and monitor trends and progress. Potential problems can either be avoided or met with timeous and appropriate responses.

In order to curb the escalating rate of soil erosion, the following solutions could be investigated. Through the management and maintenance of pathways (i.e., to minimize the number of thoroughfares and then to effectively maintain those that remain) in order to prevent soil erosion.

Baseline studies would also identify priority areas that could then be immediately addressed. Baseline studies would involve monitoring points; and if this monitoring were continued on a permanent basis, it would provide a valuable database on a rapidly changing environment, as Shongweni is currently on the urban fringe and, therefore, subject to many more variables than would be a strictly rural area.

The provision of alternative water supplies, so as to negate the necessity of livestock to move between grazing areas and watering points. An example of this would be to pump water from the Shongweni Dam to various drinking troughs located at critical watering points. If these causes of soil erosion were adequately dealt with, it would contribute to restoring the biodiversity and quality of the reserve's resources. Ultimately, this would lead to the availability of a greater variety of natural resources.

MICRO-SCALE MANAGEMENT STRATEGIES

Micro management strategies relate particularly to activities within the boundaries of the reserve. These management programmes relate mainly to the identification and control of major adverse impacts on the reserve. These impacts and controlling measures will be discussed as follows.

The Fuelwood Crisis

The energy problems of most developing countries are similar, namely the availability of adequate fuelwood supplies. According to De La Court (1990): Seventy percent of the people in developing countries use wood and bum between 350 and 2,900 kilograms of dry wood annually per person. Wood is being consumed in greater quantities than it can regrow in many Third World countries. The Food and Agricultural Organization's estimates suggest that in 1980 around 1.3 billion people lived in wood deficit areas. If this over harvesting continues at present rates, by the year 2000 some 2.4 billion people may be living in areas where firewood is acutely scarce or it has to be obtained elsewhere.

Soil Erosion Worldwide soil erosion is a serious, escalating problem. Soil erosion occurs as a result of various factors. These factors include both natural, physical factors and those of human intervention. Examples of human intervention are bad agricultural practices, population pressure, and labour shortages in rural areas to efficiently work the land as a result of rural to urban migration patterns. Focusing on the SRR, the main causes of soil erosion are the excessive and continual use of inadequate pathways as thoroughfares, both through the reserve by local inhabitants of the area and down steep gradients by livestock to water sources. The effects of the above are made worse by natural processes such as rainfall and the physical erodebility of the soil, which results in splash and gully erosion.

This discussion paper will focus on the utilization of woodlands as sources of fuel and other timber-related needs. At SRR, hardwoods are mostly used as sources of energy (i.e., firewood). Alternatively, hardwoods are used as 54


Over-Grazing

building material for houses, animal enclosures, and fences.

Pastoralism is a traditional practice in most of the countries of the developing world, but with the continual increase in population numbers in these countries there is a continual increase in the number of domestic livestock. Too many communities are keeping too much livestock for various reasons. The result is that the demands placed on the grazing resources of the country and/or area are too high, and this results in overgrazing.

Overutilization occurs with over population. Results of this overutilization of woody or forest areas is the increasing rate of soil erosion, impairment of the soil's moisture retention capacity, flash floods, water shortages, siltation of rivers and dams, loss of crops, destruction of forest ecosystems, as well as making the area vulnerable to alien plant infestation. Various solutions could be investigated to deal with the shortages of hardwoods. These solutions must be divided into two categories, namely long-term and short-term solutions.

Over grazing results in soil destabilization and severe erosion, especially on steep slopes. Over grazing also makes the area more vulnerable to the invasion of alien plant species, which then reduces the area's potential to regenerate itself, if given the opportunity.

In the long term, a system of well-organised and administered indigenous woodlots could be introduced. The simultaneous introduction of agroforestry should also be investigated.

At SRR, limited grazing exists and that which was available has been substantially damaged. Solutions to this problem are not easy, but if the correct channels of liaison are followed, the problem could be dealt with successfully. The proposed solution promotes the cultivation of communal and individual pastures. The solution also proposes dipping and vaccination programmes. This would require a joint effort by the community and S.R.R. representatives. The major problem here would be the availability and accessibility of land.

The establishment of small-scale, indigenous wood production on a commercial basis would be an excellent avenue to explore due to the potential economic spin-offs involved. Here, the harvest could be sold within the local community as fuelwood or building materials. Although these options have many inherent difficulties such as administrative and financial structures which would have to be established, these options should be investigated as a possible solution to the lack of hardwoods crisis because of the urgency of this problem. The ultimate solution would obviously be to supply the various local communities that rely on hardwoods as energy with electricity. At SRR, this would not be such an outrageous proposal, as much of the initial infrastructure is already in place. This might be a real option in the not-toodistant future.

The objective of the solution would be to reduce domestic livestock levels, but improve stock quality, prevent further land degradation and/or rehabilitate degraded areas, and if adequate finances, expertise, and educational opportunities were made available, the benefits of this programme for both parties involved could be realized. Alien Plant Infestation

In the short term, solutions such as alternative wood supplies and the continued collection of dead wood on a controlled basis should be allowed and implemented.

The SRR has a major problem with respect to alien plant species, and this is due to the extensive levels of disturbances. Disturbances occur because too many different paths are being used— both by people and livestock, people are chopping down trees and dragging the wood out of the forest areas, and the land is being over grazed.

It is only with the implementation of programmes of this nature that the future energy supplies of the SRR region, and the continued existence of its hardwood areas, can be guaranteed. 55


Once an area has been disturbed, alien plants can establish themselves faster than indigenous plants and, therefore, displace the indigenous plants. Management strategies to eradicate alien vegetation through labour-intensive methods have already been implemented, and progress is being made.

Brundtland, H. 1987. Our common future. Oxford University Press.

CONCLUSION

De La Court, T. 1990. Beyond Brundtland: Green development in the 1990s. London: Zed Books.

Cock, J., and E. Koch. 1991. Going green: People, politics, and the environment in South Africa. Cape Town: Oxford University Press.

If the proposed management strategies or other management strategies aiming to meet the challenges that have been identified are successful, the benefits to the communities as well as the environment would be mutually exclusive. Firstly, the biodiversity of the area would be restored over a period of time. This would then increase the variety and extent of resources, which, through careful control, could be utilized by the local communities. Through the proposed management strategies, nutrition and health standards would be improved.

Erskine, J. 1985. Ecology and development. Development Southern Africa. 2(1). Hardoy, E., D. Mitlin, and D. Satterwaite, eds. 1992. Environmental problems in Third World cities. London: Earthscan Publications. McNeely, J. 1990. How conservation strategies contribute to sustainable development. Environmental Conservation. 17(1).

Central to all the proposed management strategies would be education and, consequently, the local communities would acquire skills and knowledge through these efforts. This in addition to economic mechanisms that would be set in motion, assuring fuller employment and greater income security.

Munslow, B., Y. Katerere, A. Fert, and P. O'Keefe. 1988. The fuelwood trap: A case study of the SADCC Region. London: Earthscan Publications. Mwalyosi, R. 1990. Population growth, carrying capacity, and sustainable development in southwest Masailand. Journal of Environmental Management. 1991(33).

The only way to meet the two vitally important challenges of the future, namely sustainable rural community development and environmental conservation, is for community conservation authorities and large corporate bodies like Umgeni Water to recognise potential mutual benefits and for solutions to be pursued in a united fashion.

Shaw, R. 1989. Rapid population growth and environmental degradation: Ultimate versus proximate factors. Environmental Conservation. 16(3).

REFERENCES

Tisdell, C. 1989. Environmental conservation: Economics, Ecology, and Ethics. Environmental Conservation. 16(2).

Adams, W. 1990. Green development: Environment and sustainability in the Third World. London: Routledge.

World Conservation Union/United Nations Environment Programme/World Wide Fund for Nature. 1992. Caring for the Earth: A strategy for sustainable living. Gland, Switzerland: IUCN/UNEP/W W F.

Brown, B., and others. 1987. Global sustainability: Towards definition. Journal of Environmental Management. 11(6).

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AUTHORS Roland Goetz Shongweni Resources Reserve Natal, South Africa K. Ralf Dedekind Department of Geographical and Environmental Sciences University of Natal, South Africa

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A MINING THREAT TO THE GREATER ST LUCIA WETLAND PARK- THE LAST COASTAL WILDERNESS IN EASTERN SOUTH AFRICA WILLIAM BAINBRIDGE

enter directly into the debate about the allocation of use of this public land. Amongst the crucial issues debated have been the impacts of the proposed mining on the physical environment, in particular on the groundwater hydrology, and associated influences on biodiversity of both the adjacent terrestrial and wetland systems (designated under the Ramsar Convention). Also under debate is the impact on the character of the adjacent wilderness area, the integrity of which could be impaired by the proposed mining.

ABSTRACT Lake St Lucia is the largest estuarine system in Africa. It is surrounded by wetlands and terrestrial systems that constitute high quality habitat for a wide variety of wildlife, ranging from large game animals such as black and white rhinoceros, hippopotamus, southern reedbuck, and over 600 bird species, ranging from waders to forest birds. (See map.) In this complex is the last de facto wilderness on the Natal coastline. Also included is a substantial marine sanctuary, a part of which includes a marine wilderness, so the wilderness stretches from the Mkuze River to five kilometres out to sea.

This paper describes the background, the principal issues under debate, the recommendations of the EIR, and the conclusions and recommendations of the EIR Review Panel.

INTRODUCTION The Natal Parks Board affords permanent protection to this important area, which is to be known as the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park. A key component is an area known as the Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia, which forms the southern gateway to the park. Before acquiring this area, a prospecting lease for heavy minerals was issued by the South African government to a local affiliate of an international mining house to undertake dredge mining in the coastal dune cordon of the Eastern Shores.

This paper describes a major environmental debate which has taken place in Natal, Republic of South Africa, over the land use options that have been proposed for an area of public land. Only about 3.5 percent of land in South Africa is in public ownership. The present controversy concerns use of an area of public land, and is taking place on the eve of new political dispensations that are currently being forged in the national peace initiatives. Lake St Lucia is one of the great natural phenomena of the African continent. Conservationists both within this country and internationally have been concerned about protection of the lake and its surrounding natural areas for nearly a century. The St Lucia Game Reserve, first set aside in 1895, and portions of its surrounds have enjoyed sound legal protection for almost a century, although the area was de-gazetted for a short while in the early part of the present century. These have been managed by the Natal

In order to determine which of two land use options (mining, or nature conservation with ecotourism) is in the public interest, the South African government instructed that an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) be undertaken. The Environmental Impact Report (EIR) was published in September 1993. The EIA has been a milestone environmental event in South Africa in that it has provided for the first time the opportunity for the public to 58


Localkt& Map

South A

Components of the Greater 5t Lucia Wetland park 59


Parks Board since it was formed in 1947. Other portions of the surrounds have been managed by different authorities. Included is an area of land known as the Eastern Shores State Forest (ESSF). This has been used for the production of humanmade forests since the mid-1950s, although it contains natural communities of great importance for nature conservation that are not adequately conserved in other South African protected areas. The natural areas have been well-managed and are in excellent condition. In 1989, extensive portions of land adjacent to the St Lucia Game Reserve were transferred to the board. This move, and the acquisition of certain areas of private land, have made possible the consolidation of nearly a quarter of a million hectares to form a "new" major protected area known as the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park, managed by the board. The park incorporates one of the last remaining wildernesses on the east coast of the country. This adjoined a wilderness in the central portion of the St Lucia Reserve, and these have now been consolidated with a marine sanctuary, thereby creating the first wilderness in the country which incorporates a freshwater body, terrestrial and wetland systems, and an extensive wild coastline. In 1974, a prospecting lease was issued for a portion of the ESSF after a lease issued for the Mapelane Nature Reserve was abandoned. In 1979, the company which owns the present lease applied for permission to mine, and a public uproar followed. The government accordingly instructed that an EIA be implemented to provide a firm basis for making a decision on which of two land use options would be in the best interests of the country. The two land use options under consideration for the ESSF arc: 1. The Mining Option - Mining, with nature conservation and tourism (ecotourism) where possible; or 2. TheNon-Mining Option-Natureconservation and ecotourism without mining.

This paper provides a brief history of the establishment of the St Lucia Reserve. It describes important attributes of the area and aspects of the EIA procedure implemented to assist the authorities in deciding which of the two land use options should be selected in the national interest. The predicted impacts of the proposed mining are also summarised. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE GREATER ST LUCIA WETLAND PARK Lake St Lucia and Its Surrounds in Perspective Geomorphological and Biogeographical Aspects. Lake St Lucia has a geomorphological history dating back to the Cretaceous Era (about 140 million years ago). Its extensive basin consists of old river valley depressions formed in the past two million years. The resultant estuarine system is regarded as the largest in Africa. It has been conserved in near-pristine condition. The lake is primarily fed by five rivers, the largest of which is the Mkuze River. The Mfolozi River formerly shared a common mouth with the lake, but by manipulative engineering, the Mfolozi has now been given a separate mouth, and its waters no longer flow into the lake. The lake is located in the Maputaland plain, in northeastern Natal, at the southernmost extremity of the Mozambique coastal plain, which lies along the cast coast of Africa between Somalia in the north and Zululand in the south. It is located at the interface between the tropical biota of East Africa and the subtropical and temperate biota of South Africa. The St Lucia area possesses characteristics of both, and within it is found an intermingling of faunal and floral species of both regions. The southern portion of the Maputaland Plain coincides with the outer limits of the tropics, and to the south of the plain lies a complex of non-tropical elements. This situation has given rise to a rich diversity of plants and animals, which have been the subject of many studies, and strong calls have been made for the establishment of a complex of both terrestrial and marine protected areas in


Mozambique and Natal (Stuckenberg, 1969;^by the river systems and then transported by Bruton, 1980; Tinley, 1985; and Branch, 1988). ^wind from the beaches onto the dunes. Special mention must be made of the high sand dune cordon, which dominates the coastal landscape. Semeniuk (1992) describes this system as "a sand dune terrain comprised of chaotic, high relief dunes in different stages of relief: from sharp-crested, steep-sided hills to linear high-relief ridges to more rounded hill systems, with associated lowlands or valleys that are open to steep-sided, all with different aspects to sunlight, sea-derived wind, depth to water table, and stability of slope with regard to surface soil sheet wash.

Historical Aspects. According to Dominy(1992), Maputaland had been occupied by early humans for millennia before the arrival of the Nguni and Tonga people, who migrated southward from central Africa down the coastal plain from about 250 to 1000 A.D. Both the Nguni people, who became the Zulu nation, as well as the Thonga (who have become integrated with the Zulus) have occupied portions of southern Maputaland since that time.

The first accounts of Lake St Lucia were provided by Portuguese navigators. They discovered and named Cape St Lucia in the latter portion of the 15th century, and this name was subsequently extended to the lake. It was, however, not until the early 1840s that the first account of the spectacular wildlife resource present in the lake and its surrounds was provided by Delegorgue (1990).

,,

These are some of the highest vegetated coastal dunes in the country, the absolute highest being in the southern Cape (Tinley, 1985). Those on the southern Eastern Shores reach up to nearly 170 metres, while the highest dune at Mapelane is 183 metres above sea level. The dunes are of Aeolian origin and are of recent age (formed over the past 15,000 to 25,000 years). The process of dune formation involves the transportation of beach sand (and associated minerals) by the strong coastal winds onto a beach-rock foundation. The dunes have increased in height over time. The slope gradients of the steepest dune hillsides are steeper than the natural angle of repose of the component regic sands. This occurs because of the anchoring role of the dune vegetation, which secures fresh wind-blown material and facilitates building of these unusually precipitous slopes to considerable heights. The resultant steep-sided dunes are a unique and spectacular feature of the scenery of this coastline.

By the late 19th century, the wildlife resources of the Maputaland area had become of major economic significance to the colonial government of the day, with natural products such as ivory and skins constituting its principal export commodities. This exploitation focused mainly on hunting the abundance of game present for trading purposes, sport, and food. Guns that had been introduced by the white settlers subsequently became available to the indigenous peoples, and the wasteful exploitation rates increased dramatically (Brooks et al., 1993). Shortly before the turn of the century, the then British Governor of Zululand commented that, "we may be within measurable distance of the total destruction of game in Zululand." The destruction of this great wildlife resource prompted the notion that wildlife reserves should be proclaimed (Ellis, 1975).

The slope gradients of the dune sides are seldom less than 20 to 25 degrees, generally fall in the range of 27 to 37 degrees, and occasionally lie at exceptionally steep slopes of between 40 and 45 degrees (Davies Lynn and Partners, 1992). It is in this coastal dune system that the concentrations of heavy minerals, which are of particular interest to the miners, are located. These minerals emanate from eroded igneous rocks in the hinterland, which are washed down to the sea

The Initial Designation of Lake St Lucia and Its Surrounds The Zululand Government proclaimed five reserves, including, as noted above, the St Lucia 61


Game Reserve in 1895. These were extended by the Colony of Natal in 1897 and were the first protected areas to be designated on the African continent. Thus, the first official recognition of the need to provide permanent protection for the Lake, its surrounds, and the wildlife resource was given nearly a century ago (Brooks et al., 1993). The Onslaught Against the Natural and Protected Areas of Maputaland in the Early 20th Century

Effects ofEarlyAgriculture and the Tsetse Campaign. Brooks and others (1993) summarise the extensive pressures on the natural areas of Zululand through mining, industrial, and farming activities that took place in the first part of the 20th century. The combined effects of these have resulted, for example, in accelerated erosion in the major river catchments and widespread degradation of natural communities.

Lucia, and thereby in the long run, exposed the area to the threat of mining (Ellis, 1975). Public hunting had been encouraged in many of the areas now under formal protection, in attempts to eradicate the tsetse, so that the wildlife resource had almost been eliminated in extensive portions of the St Lucia Game Reserve. Fortunately, however, the integrity of these natural areas remained substantially intact, although the northern sector of the Eastern Shores of the Lake (between the Lake, Mkuze swamps, and the sea) was increasingly subject to settlement, slashand-burn agriculture, and livestock grazing after the Second World War. Timber plantations were established in the early 1950s in the southern sector of the Eastern Shores, following relocation of the relatively small settlements of Tonga people, who were then resident in the state land between Sodwana and St Lucia Estuary. Other Adjacent Natural Areas. Other portions of the St Lucia system have been treated far less sympathetically, as a consequence of human activity and lack of insight into the functioning of the ecosystem. Poorly planned agricultural activities that have assailed the system have included uncontrolled agriculture in the upper catchments of the feeder rivers, resulting in destabilized stream flows and accelerated soil losses. Sections of the Mfolozi swamps were drained and the river canalized for sugar cane plantations, resulting in the transport of massive silt deposits into the lake, causing the mouth to close and fish populations to decline. The principal reason for cutting a new mouth for the Mfolozi was to prevent excessive deposition of sediments in St Lucia Estuary (Commission of Enquiry: Lake St Lucia, 1964-66). Water extraction from the feeder river systems for crop irrigation purposes has reduced the supply of fresh water to the lake, and seasonally, significantly high salinity levels are experienced in periods of low rainfall.

Following the Zulu wars and the 1902-1905 Lands Delimitation Commission, parts of Zululand have been occupied by white settlers. Many of these are cattle farmers, who have occupied land near the protected areas established in 1895 and 1897, which had been avoided by the Zulu people because of the prevalence of the tsetse fly within the protected areas and other reasons. These problems led to pressure on the government to remove the tsetse fly, and attention was turned to the eradication of large game species, then thought to be the principal food source for the fly. The Assault on the Protected Areas. In the course of this struggle, the status of the Zululand protected areas came under severe siege. Parts of the St Lucia Game Reserve were de-proclaimed in 1928, but re-proclaimed again in 1938. However, the extent of the re-proclaimed area was less than had been set aside in 1895 and 1897. This area was subsequently extended in 1934 and 1939, but the status of part of the extension was subsequently altered to that of State forest. These administrative vicissitudes opened the way for divided control of Lake St

The Timber Plantations of the Eastern Shores. Approximately 5,250 hectares of exotic pine timber plantations established on the southern portion of the Eastern Shores have resulted in 62


destruction of terrestrial natural communities, desiccation of adjacent wetland systems, with concomitant negative but not irreversible effects on the lake.

Establishment of the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park Extensive areas of state forest land surrounding the St Lucia Reserve in the northern and central sectors of the Eastern Shores, together with other areas to the south and west of the lake, were transferred to the Natal Parks Board in 1989 for consolidation into a composite protected area to be known as the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park and managed by a single authority. As a result, a significant portion of the original area proclaimed in 1897 was reconsolidated with the core St Lucia Reserve. However, excluded from the land transferred was the ESSF, on •a portion of which mineral prospecting leases had been issued.

Claims to Lands by Native Communities At least two tribal authorities have recently initiated formal land claims to reclaim land rights for the former occupants, following their relocation from the Eastern Shores. They have expectations in the new political dispensation about to be introduced in South Africa of deriving direct benefits from whatever land use option is selected for the area or of resettling within the area. The 1964-66 Kriel Commission of Enquiry

Despite the exclusion at that time of the ESSF, these developments provided the board with an exciting opportunity to create a major "new" protected area around Lake St Lucia. These developments also realised the dream of many conservationists to establish a large protected area that would conserve representative ecosystems of the Maputaland plain lying between the Lebombo Mountains and the sea. Portions of privately owned land had first to be acquired to forge a link between the Mkuzi Game Reserve and the St Lucia protected areas, but much of this land was acquired in 1991, with the result that the country now boasts a protected area of approximately 234,000 hectares in extent. Additional land earmarked for consolidation could shortly increase the park by a further 20,000 hectares (approximately). While the park is described as "new," it, in fact, consists largely of a consolidation of land set aside at the turn of the last and the first quarter of the present centuries.

Frost (1990) describes the public outcry that arose in 1961, following an official decision to build a dam on the Hluhluwe River for sugar cane irrigation, that would have further reduced the flow of fresh water into the lake. This was one of the concerns that resulted in the official appointment of the Kriel Commission of Enquiry (Commission of Enquiry: Lake St Lucia, 1964-66). The Commission was instructed to investigate alleged threats to the survival of the animal and plant life of the lake and factors causing increased salinities. It was also required to recommend "a solution which would best suit the lake and surrounding agriculture, forestry, domestic, and commercial water needs in the total catchment area." The published recommendations of the Commission were comprehensive and far-reaching. Important recommendations included the phasing out of the timber plantations on the Eastern Shores and placement of the lake and extensive surrounds under a single management authority. Unfortunately, the recommendations were largely ignored by the government of the day. An important enduring contribution, however, was the suggested need for a single management authority to be made responsible for the entire area.

The park includes two marine reserves, protected under the provisions of the Sea Fisheries Act No. 58 of 1973, the St Lucia Marine Reserve, declared in 1979, and the Maputaland Marine Reserve, declared in 1987. Extensive restocking programmes have been undertaken in selected portions of the park for over 63


a decade to re-establish the spectrum of wildlife species formerly present, and natural recruitment has been fostered. The park has thus become a wildlife sanctuary of major importance. Inclusion of the Eastern Shores State Forest in the Park After submission of the request to implement dune mining in the ESSF, the government made several important decisions. One was that the ESSF was also to be consolidated into the park (whether or not the mining was to be permitted) and managed by the Natal Parks Board. Another was that the timber plantations were to be phased out. After the last stands are removed, there will no longer be human-made forests remaining on any portion of the Eastern Shores.

THE SOCIO-ECONOMIC ENVIRONMENT OF SOUTHERN MAPUTALAND Current Economic Conditions in Southern Maputaland The KwaZulu districts of the region rank with the lower levels of the lower-income countries of the world in terms of the human development index proposed by the United Nations Development Programme as a measure of the quality of life (World Bank, 1992). The population of the region is approximately 850,000 people resident mainly in a rural environment where poverty prevails. Human populations are increasing at an alarming rate, possibly as high as 2.1 percent annually (Zingel, 1992). The extremely limited employment opportunities present are provided by the agricultural sector and government service. Many men are forced to make a livelihood as migrant workers and are consequently absent from the region for long periods. The current socio-economic climate of the area and potential employment opportunities within the region are likely to assume considerable significance in the debate on which of the two land use options should be selected. It is to be expected that a key factor which will be employed in the evaluation of the two land use options will be the potential of each to generate local employment opportunities.

Designation of Components of the Park as Wetlands of International Importance, Ramsar Convention The park encompasses two Wetlands of International Importance, designated in 1986 under the provisions of the Ramsar Convention. The first consists of the two marine reserves, known as the Turtle Beaches/Coral Reefs of Tongaland Site. The second consists of Lake St Lucia and its surrounds and is known as the St Lucia Site. The two sites are contiguous. The Ozabeni Wilderness

The Low Agricultural Potential of the Area and the Increase in Land Managed as Privately Owned Game Reserves

A substantial central sector of the park has largely retained its pristine wilderness condition. This area, now known as the Ozabeni Wilderness, is the only remaining wilderness on the entire east coast of the country. The Natal Parks Board has protected this area for about 40 years--one of the first wildernesses to receive official protection in South Africa.

One significant factor contributing to the depressed socio-economic conditions of the subregion is the low agricultural potential of the area. This is the result of the prevalence of poor soils (consisting principally ofnutrient-poor regic sands) and low rainfall (Avis, 1992). The natives of the area generally practise third-worldtype subsistence agriculture. An interesting development in the past five years has been the conversion on white-owned land from crop and livestock production to some form of wildlife

This wilderness includes portions of the lake, extensive wetlands of the dune cordon areas, and the sanctuary sector of the St Lucia Marine Reserve. 64


management. Extensive areas of land in the Lower Mkuze area have been converted to game ranches. Visitors are provided with safari-hunting and luxury game-viewing opportunities. Many of these privately-owned reserves adjoin the park and are making important contributions to conservation of the natural communities of the region by increasing the overall area devoted to some form of nature conservation, as well as by providing employment opportunities. The board supports such efforts by its sales to private landowners of surplus wildlife captured live within its protected area system for restocking purposes. The board also encourages the formation of biosphere reserves and conservancies.

This evoked a public outcry, because it was perceived that the proposed mining had the potential to cause severe negative impacts on the sensitive natural communities and physical environment of the St Lucia area. This area has long been regarded by conservationists as a natural component of the park, despite the presence of the timber plantations. The heavy minerals present on the Eastern Shores occur throughout the entire coastal dune system of the park. A prospecting lease has, however, only been issued for the southern sector of the Eastern Shores. Some Details of the Proposed Mining Operation

THE PROPOSAL TO IMPLEMENT DREDGE MINING IN THE COASTAL DUNE SYSTEM OF THE EASTERN SHORES OF LAKE ST LUCIA

The mining method to be used is so-called dredge mining, a form of strip-mining involving a mining plant that floats on a large human-made pond. A suction dredge is coupled to a processing plant in which sand particles are separated from the heavy minerals by gravitational means.

Background to the Proposal

The presence of heavy minerals in the transported sands of the Zululand coast has been known for many years. After the decision to construct a harbour at Richards Bay in 1967, various applications for prospecting leases were lodged for public lands lying north of Richards Bay. These included three areas north of St Lucia Estuary in the southern sector of the ESSF.

The mining will take place over an estimated area of approximately 1,437 hectares, along approximately 17 kilometres of the higher portions of the coastal dune cordon. The plant will operate in the upper cover sands of the dune system. The ore body is largely concentrated in these at depths varying from between 3 and 52 metres and averaging about 17.5 metres. In the mining process, all vegetation is removed about 100 metres ahead of the plant. Topsoil is removed before the mining commences and stacked for replacement on mined areas.

The principal heavy minerals present in the coastal sands consist of ilmenite, rutile, and zircon, which are feedstocks for a number of products, including titanium dioxide used in the pigment and aerospace industries. There is current over-production of these products on world markets, but it is claimed that future demand for these products is expected to follow the growth of the world economy and increase significantly during the mid-1990s and later. Titanium dioxide pigments are considered to have many desirable properties, and substitution by other products is apparently unlikely.

The mining company currently operates a revegetation programme in the tailings that remain after extraction of the minerals. It is not possible to re-create the original steeply-sloped dune topography, so following mining, an artificiallyshaped humped mound remains. The mining method employed requires the use of large volumes of water that must be pumped to the site from a supply source many kilometres distant. A weir on the Mfolozi River, and an associated storage dam for water extracted from the river, are envisaged.

In 1989, the holder of these three leases lodged a formal request to the South African government for conversion of these to leases to mine. 65


mandatory application of the IEM procedure to a number of land uses, mining, mineral extraction, and mineral beneficiation. However, at the time, there was no legal requirement for a mining company to undertake an EIA or similar procedure prior to applying for a mining permit.

OPPOSITION TO THE MINING AND THE DECISION TO UNDERTAKE AN ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSMENT Opposition to the Mining A vociferous public protest, led by environmental non-government organizations (NGOs), followed the application to initiate mining operations on the Eastern Shores. The protest took the form, for example, of petitions that were signed by 222,667 people (CSIR, 1993a). It stemmed from the conviction of environmentalists that:

Following the public protests, and despite the absence of a legal requirement of the holders of the prospecting leases to commission an EIA or follow the IEM procedure, the government instructed that an EIA be undertaken following the IEM procedure as far as possible to determine the most suitable land use option for the area. Specific attention was to be paid to determination of the impacts of the proposed mining on the sensitive environment and whether or not these impacts would be irreparable or unacceptable, and whether mitigatory measures could be applied.

• the proposed mining was an inappropriate land use for this area of public land, which should form part of the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park, a potential World Heritage Site;

THE NATURE CONSERVATION TOURISM LAND USE OPTION

• the proposed mining had the potential to cause irreversible damage to this sensitive environment; and

Policies of the Natal Parks Board The Natal Parks Board is a statutory, semiautonomous body that is charged with responsibility for the nature conservation function in the Province ofNatal. It has custody of a substantial system of protected areas, involving 78 individual areas, approximately 663,200 hectares in extent, which covers almost 12 percent of the land surface of Natal.

• the most appropriate use of this public land was nature conservation and tourism.

The Decision to Undertake an Environmental Impact Assessment There is no legislation in South Africa that requires EIAs be undertaken for significant development proposals. The Department of Environment Affairs has developed a procedure known as Integrated Environmental Management (IEM), which incorporates EIAs, and which is designed to ensure that the environmental consequences of development proposals are understood and considered in the planning process. The term environmental in this context is used in a broad sense, encompassing biophysical and socio-economic components (Department of Environment Affairs, 1992).

The responsibilities of the board also extend to nature conservation on privately owned land. The board works in close co-operation with landowners to achieve this, through the wellknown system of wildlife conservancies and biosphere reserves. There are currently 138 conservancies that cover about a million hectares, about 17 percent of the agricultural lands of the province. The mission of the board is "to promote nature conservation in Natal and assist all other public and private groups in promoting wise use of the biosphere," where:

This organisation is currently considering the drafting of legislation that would require the 66


• nature conservation is defined as "the

the most important nursery areas for marine fish and crustaceans on the Natal coastline. The greater lake area provides habitat for the largest Nile crocodile and hippopotamus populations on the sub-continent. Considerable use is made by the hippopotamus of the adjoining wetlands and terrestrial systems of the southern Eastern Shores for grazing purposes.

conservation of indigenous fauna, flora, and the natural ecosystems; the promotion of public environmental awareness; and the promotion of nature-orientated outdoor recreation"; and • wise use is defined as "use that will maintain ecological processes, preserve genetic diversity, and ensure sustainable utilization of all resources."

The Eastern Shores Terrestrial Ecosystem . This is the system in which the proposed mining operation is planned. The mining operation is to be located in the coastal dune system, which dominates the topography and forms the principal water catchment for the wetlands and streams that drain into the lake. It contains a forest, grassland, and wetland mosaic, providing a wide variety of habitats.

This is the policy that directs all board activities within the park and the adjoining privatelyowned land that surrounds the park. A separate authority known as the KwaZulu Bureau of Natural Resources is responsible for nature conservation in the adjoining tribal lands.

The human-made forests that have been present for nearly 40 years are located on the dune system and better-drained foot slopes adjacent to the dunes. The tree stands are now being systematically removed and the planted areas rehabilitated back to natural cover. The recovery of the natural communities is surprisingly rapid, sometimes in as short a period as five years. Re-establishment of the full range of plant species previously present is expected to take longer. Near-complete recovery of the natural communities appears to be feasible.

Important Attributes of the Southern Eastern Shores Component of the Park

South Africa is blessed with exceptionally rich fauna and flora. The southern section of the Eastern Shores contains five separate ecosystems (Taylor, 1991), each with a rich diversity of plant and animal species, as might be expected from its geographic position described above. Two of these five systems could be affected to a greater or lesser extent by the proposed mining operation. Following is an abridged description of these two systems.

A total of 286 bird species has been recorded for the area, of which 38 are Red Data species-about a third of the total national list (which is 102 species). The total vertebrate fauna present (including the 286 bird species) is estimated to be at least 450 species. This consists of 65 mammals, 60 reptiles, and 39 amphibians (Berruti and Taylor, 1992). Of these, 13 mammals, 11 reptiles, and 2 amphibians are classified as Red Data species.

The Lake Ecosystem. The St Lucia system is regarded as one of the most important breeding grounds for waterfowl in Africa. This is one of the most important reasons for its designation under the Ramsar Convention. The lake is the largest natural water body in the country, and reference has already been made to the claim that it is the largest, or one of the largest, estuarine systems in Africa.

It is estimated that the area contains approximately 440 vascular terrestrial plants, and about 160 wetland plant species, 17 of which are Red Data species (Everard eta!., 1992; and Lubke et al., 1992).

The system is of major significance as a fish and aquatic organism breeding ground, especially for marine species. It is considered to be one of 67


Benefits to the Regional Economy of the Nature Conservation and Tourism Land Use Option Current Significance of Tourism. Tourism is currently regarded as an important part of the economy of the Natal region, contributing 11.5 percent of the gross domestic product in 1990 (Development Bank of Southern Africa, 1991). It is an industry with considerable potential for expansion. Gross income for the entire park in 1991 was estimated at R12.4 million, while recurrent expenditure by the board in the same year was R 13.9 million, and capital expenditure was R4.3 million (Parris et al., 1991), of which about a quarter related to the southern Eastern Shores component. Staff salaries account for approximately 80 percent of recurrent expenditure, a high proportion of which is disbursed into the local economy. The economy of the adjacent town of St Lucia Estuary is primarily dependent on tourism, and the southern Eastern Shores forms the primary resource base for this. NaturalProducts. Certain natural products available in the park are much sought after by local tribal communities. An example is ncema, an aquatic reed that is used for weaving sleeping mats. Permits to collect the reed are issued to local residents at a low tariff. The fresh reed is dried and exported from the region, fetching nearly 10 times its local price in far distant city markets. The annual revenue is currently worth approximately R70,000 from the fresh-cut reeds.

mus, rhinoceros, buffalo, and reedbuck) and seasonally, world-class bird watching. The zonation system for the park makes provision for three categories: low, intermediate, and high-intensity development. The wilderness is located in the central low-intensity zone, and the development nodes, described below, are located in the other zones. There is currently only one major ecotourism development facility (i.e., development node) that is located within a portion of the highintensity zone of the park, namely Sodwana Bay. Three intermediate-zone facilities are located at Cape Vidal, Mapelane, and Mantuma. Three of these four facilities are located on the coast (at Sodwana, Cape Vidal, and Mapelane) and are amongst the most popular facilities provided by the board in any of its protected areas. The development envisaged will consist of one major, three intermediate, and fifteen minor nodes. The primary objective of providing these facilities is to facilitate access to the park by the public to appreciate and enjoy the beautiful scenery and the wildlife resource. The ecotourism development will also provide significant sustainable employment opportunities and other economic benefits to the local communities. Nature Conservation Benefits Conservation ofEnvironmental Quality and the Natural Communities. The nature conservation and tourism land use option will ensure that the entire ESSF will be specifically managed favour long-term conservation of the St Lucia environment and the natural communities. Specific attention will be paid to the retention of the unspoiled wild character that prevails over a high proportion of the park. Limited areas that have been modified by unsympathetic management in the past, such as the afforested areas of the ESSF, will be rehabilitated back to their wild states as far as possible.

Proposals for Ecotourism Development

A total of 19 new potential development nodes have been identified by the board for the Eastern Shores (Bainbridge et al., 1991). This area is regarded as having high potential for the provision of ecotourism facilities. The resource base is of exceptional quality, consisting of a spectacularly beautiful coastline, big-game habitat in the terrestrial components, together with the wetlands and the lake itself. The game-viewing opportunities alone range from large marine mammals and fish (e.g., whales, dolphin, and whale sharks) to large game (e.g., hippopota-

A programme to re-establish the spectrum of wildlife species formerly present in this area has been underway for nearly two decades. 68


The board has an internal IEM policy that requires that all development proposals are subject to IEM principles, and that an EIA is undertaken before any development is approved. Implementation of this policy will ensure that the ecotourism development and facilities envisaged will exert minimal negative impact on the natural communities, and that the quality of ecotourism opportunities offered will be of a high order.

The Ramsar Convention Monitoring Mission report reaffirmed the international importance ofthe St Lucia Ramsar site and the reasons for its inclusion on the international Ramsar List. It noted that the St Lucia system is one of the few Ramsar sites anywhere in the world that meets all three of the criteria groups that qualify it for recognition as such. The principal conclusions of the report were that the proposed mining would have the potential to exert a "critical impact" on the Ramsar Site in several respects, including:

Conservation ofthe Wilderness Resources. This land use option will also ensure that priority is given to conservation of the wilderness resources of the Ozabeni Wilderness, and that no form of unsympathetic development or ecotourism activity which could compromise its integrity will be permitted.

impact on dune land forms, leading to reduction in the variety of landscape and soils and the variable dynamics of hydrology, the result being a reduction in the richness of vegetation of the dune cordon, with repercussions for the fauna and flora of the wetlands of the Eastern Shores and the main estuary shore; and

STATUS FOR THE PARK UNDER INTERNATIONAL PROTECTED AREA INSTRUMENTS

impact on the perceptions of visitors to the area by the sight of the mining operations to the extent that visitor numbers would be reduced, possibly in the long term.

Introduction As already noted, a high proportion of the terrestrial component park and the marine reserves were designated as Wetlands of International Importance in terms of the Ramsar Convention in 1986. It has long been considered that the park merits designation as a World Heritage Site, but designation to the international list has not been possible for political reasons.

Doubt was expressed on the feasibility of reconstituting the complex dune forest present within the mining lease area, despite the success achieved by the mining company in rapidly re-establishing vegetation on currently mined areas. This vegetation is described as "altogether more simple and less varied than the original cover."

The 1992 Ramsar Convention Monitoring Mission

The report concluded that South Africa should consider whether mining should not be refused in principle, but that if it were to be considered, it would be necessary to delete all or part of the St Lucia system from the Ramsar List. The report also concluded that it would be extremely difficult to compensate for the loss of the site by designation of an alternative site because of the unique nature of the Eastern Shores wetlands. (No country has, to date, de-listed a designated site.) Finally, it noted that the convention specifies that de-listing can occur only "in the urgent

Following a report made to the Ramsar Bureau in 1992 by the government that a proposal to mine in the ESSF had been lodged, the Bureau requested the Minister of Environment Affairs to agree that an independent mission visit the area to assess whether the proposed mining would pose a threat to the St Lucia Ramsar site. A monitoring mission was appointed, which undertook an inspection in situ and subsequently published its report as a document independent of the Eastern Shores EIA (Ramsar Bureau, 1993). 69


national interest" and that, therefore, "it must clearly be established that the mining is really in the urgent national interest."

majority of the values held by the full body of IAPs. Consultants were appointed directly by the mining company to conduct the investigations and prepare the reports. After completion of environmental studies and a series of 23 Specialist Reports (SRs) by private consultants, the Environmental Services of the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) was appointed to complete the process. The CSIR was responsible for the completion of a series of Key Issue Reports (KIRs). Initially, nine of these were commissioned, but three others were eventually completed after concerns had been raised by the board.

Designation of the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park as a World Heritage Site

The political situation of the past that prevented designation of sites in South Africa has changed. The Natal Parks Board is currently investigating those sites in Natal that it believes qualify for recognition and will formally apply for this status. An application for designation of the park is in preparation. The board considers that the area qualifies under all four criteria specified by the World Heritage Convention and is confident that the Park merits designation.

The Natal Parks Board was appointed a Lead IAP and is considered the proponent of the nature conservation and tourism (non-mining) land use option. It has participated fully throughout the entire process to ensure that the benefits of the nature conservation and tourism land use option are fully and equitably assessed. It has commented fully on all documentation and provided all relevant information on the land use option it supports.

THE EASTERN SHORES ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSMENT Organisation and Participants

The Cabinet gave the instruction to the Department of Environment Affairs to coordinate the EIA, following IEM principles as far as possible. Two committees were appointed to coordinate the process. A Coordinating Committee, consisting of officials of the various government departments and official organizations with responsibilities related to the mining proposals was appointed for the control of policy to be followed. An Assessment Management Committee was appointed to ensure that the EIA was carried out in accordance with the principles of IEM and with the full participation of interested and affected parties. A Review Panel, consisting of five impartial prominent persons, was appointed to make recommendations on whether the proposed mining would cause "unacceptable damage" on which land use was to be preferred and the conditions under which this should proceed.

An EIR was published early in 1993 (CSIR, 1993a). Lead IAPs were invited to submit written comment on the EIR and supporting documents (SRs and KIRs). Thereafter, a Final Report, consisting of a Response Report and final conclusions and recommendations, was published in September 1993 (CSIR, 1993b). The Eastern Shores EIA provided one of the first opportunities in South Africa for members of the public to be involved in a decision-making process related to the use of publicly owned land. This participation has manifested itself through vigorous public debate in the media and in the submission of comprehensive comment on the EIR reports. Except in the latter stages of the proceedings, public participation has largely been restricted to concerned members of the white community. There were several reasons for this, not the least of which was that all the documentation was not available in Zulu, the

A total of 120 Interested and Affected Parties (IAPs) were identified, of which 14 Lead Interested and Affected Parties (Lead IAPs) were appointed, which were considered to reflect the Z7


language of most rural communities. The Review Panel, therefore, specifically requested that a rural liaison programme be initiated to convey the findings of the EIR to rural communities in their own language, elicit their views and concerns, and facilitate their participation in the EIA process, especially the Review Panel hearings.

development planned for the Eastern Shores could take place elsewhere in the park or in Natal. The authors concluded that while the mining operation would have negative impacts, damage to the environment would not be irreparable (i.e., mitigation would be possible), except in the relatively narrow confines of the lease area. Most significantly, they considered that the economic benefits of the mining operation carried out in conjunction with nature conservation and tourism would be significantly greater than that of nature conservation and tourism without the mining. The question was posed: Would South Africans be willing to pay (in other words, forego, by not mining) between R66 and R247 million in order to avoid the predicted impacts on the environment?

Proponents of the mining option have conducted a well-funded campaign, involving expensive newspaper advertisements and articles in glossy magazines, to project the values and advantages of the mining proposal. Proponents of the conservation or non-mining option (the green organisations) have also conducted a vigorous, well-orchestrated but low-budget publicity exercise, which has in particular been aimed at decision-makers. There has been no precedent for the scale and intensity of this campaign in this country. It has been significant that the antimining NGOs have not received funding from outside sources for their campaign. They have of necessity had to rely on their own funding.

The authors also concluded that it is highly likely that land rights would be restored to previous occupants (i.e., native communities) of at least part of the Eastern Shores, which may or may not involve resettlement.

South African environmental NGOs have been well supported by international environmental NGOs. A significant number of international NGOs and prominent environmentalists have participated in the process, either by submitting comments on the EIA reports or by making submissions to the Review Panel. Most of the comment provided was in opposition to the mining.

Recommendations. The reports make recommendations in respect to both land use options, but the tenor of these are that there are no strong reasons, other than sentiment, why the government should prevent the mining. It is clear that the authors of the report consider that it is feasible that the mining and nature conservation and tourism programme could continue in parallel. This recommendation stems partly from the finding that the St Lucia environment will not suffer irreparable or unacceptable damage, other than in the narrow confines of the mine path. It also stems from the assessment of the economics of the two land use options, which purport to show that the economic benefits of the mining are of such a magnitude that they should not be ignored. Doubts are thrown on the viability of the ecotourism programme, specifically on the overall scale of the development proposed and on the ability of the Natal Parks Board to attract the necessary capital to undertake the development proposed.

Summary of the Conclusions and Recommendations of the Environmental Impact Report and Final Report Conclusions. These reports concluded that the proposed mining would cause impacts at international, national, regional, and local scales. A summary of the predicted impacts is provided in Table 1.

The conclusions and recommendations of the report appear to be based on two assumptions, the first being that the mineral resources of the Kingsa/Tojan Lease Area were not substitutable, and the second being that the ecotourism 71


Table 1. Summary of predicted impacts of the proposed dune mining—Eastern Shores Environmental Impact Assessment. Summary of Predicted Impact

Scale of Impact International Scale

• Economic impacts on feed stock supply to a major global market. • Negative impacts on perceptions of the St Lucia sub-region as a wild place or wilderness.

National Scale

• Negative impact on people's sense of place. • Positive impact of the additional contribution of mining to the economy, heightened by a five-year increase in life of the smelter plant.

Regional Scale

• High economic benefit.

Local Scale

• High negative (irreversible) impacts on the dune topography. • Moderately negative impacts on certain ani mal species in the mine path, which would affect overall population sizes on the ESSF. • Moderately negative impacts on tourists visiting the area in the short term. • High negative visual impacts caused by mining plant during the period of mining.

Note: After Eastern Shores Environmental Impact Report, CSIR (1992a).

According to public statements, many people considered that the authors were biased in favour of the mining. Some of the principal criticisms from proponents of the nature conservation and tourism land use option were the following:

There is acknowledgement that the mining company lacks the technology to recreate the dune topography and re-establish the diversity of vegetation types present in the mining path, but these are not seen by the authors as potential causes of' `irreparable damage," should the rehabilitation programme not prove to be successful.

• Critical omissions and shortcomings were evident in the study.

Criticisms of the Environmental Impact Report and Final Report

• Assessments were made of a number of impacts, which were considered unacceptable.

There has been widespread condemnation of the findings and conclusions of the EIR and Final Report (CSIR, 1993a; and 1993b) from both formal and informal environmental organisations.

• Levels of certainty and risks had been omitted or not given due attention. 72


incensed at the suggestion that an alternative location for ecotourism development within the park was the central Ozabeni wilderness zone north of Cape Vidal. This suggestion was made, despite the fact that the wilderness conservation policy of the board and the need to protect this unique wilderness from physical development had been made known to the consultants.

• The analysis of land use alternatives was considered to require revision by, for example, the employment of social welfare criteria. • The definitions of irreparable damage were unacceptable. • The potential impacts of mining on biodiversity and the significance of these impacts had not been addressed.

The reports make no mention of the eligibility of the park for World Heritage Site status.

• The diversity and functioning of wet land systems, and the potential impacts of mining thereon and their significance, were not adequately addressed.

Critics of the economic analysis of the reports considered that the benefits of the mining had been exaggerated, particularly in respect to its alleged sustainability, the prediction that the highly imputed net present value estimated at between R66 and R247 million, and the employment opportunities that would be offered. One critic noted that the total net present value of the mining was estimated at R164 million for the entire 22 year life expectancy of the mine, not per annum, and that employment benefits were incorporated in this.

• Rehabilitation requirements, uncertainties, and associated risks were not adequately addressed. • The economic analysis of the two land use options (especially that of the nature conservation tourism land use option) required revision.

It was also noted that the employment opportunities to be offered would largely be for skilled and semi-skilled workers, not unskilled workers who predominate in local communities. The much-vaunted employment opportunities would, therefore, not represent a major attraction for local communities.

Critics considered that the question of need and desirability, especially in respect of the mining proposal, had not been adequately addressed. In respect of need, it was noted that alternative ore bodies do exist (e.g., in the Port Durnford State Forest, which lies closer to the processing plant than the ESSF). It was also pointed out that the company has ore reserves to last it for an estimated two further decades, and that it is not imperative in the national interest that the mining lease be granted now.

One of the major criticisms of the EIR was that the authors had failed to qualify their recommendations by providing a comprehensive list of uncertainties and risks, especially in respect of areas of crucial importance to the issues at hand, where it is currently considered that there is inadequate knowledge to make informed decisions. For example, the authors acknowledge that there is "a poor understanding of ecosystem dynamics in general and its consequences for rehabilitation in the area." Yet, their recommendation in respect to rehabilitation of mined areas was that a research programme should be funded by the mining company to address certain key issues to place the company in a better position

The reports found that there is an urgent need for ecotourism development within the region and accepted that the park has an important role to play in providing a highly desirable resource base, and that extensive development should take place there. However, the reports also considered that the proposed mining would have no impact on ecotourism at a national level, and that alternative development sites within the region (or the park) are available. Conservationists were 73


to rehabilitate the mined areas. Critics pointed out that the company has no experience at present in the restoration of dunes to their original topographical state, and no experience in the restoration of a number of the natural communities of the ESSF, including the secondary grasslands. It was concluded that permission to mine should not be given until abilities in these important directions have been demonstrated.

The nature conservation and tourism land use option will provide sustainable benefits at international, national, and regional levels--the benefits at the regional level are at least comparable to competitive land use options. The many benefits, including employment opportunities, will largely accrue at the sub-region level. It satisfies the criteria of equity, efficiency, and sustainability.

The general consensus of the conservationist lobby was that the need and desirability to mine on the Eastern Shores has not been demonstrated, and that no mining in this special place should be contemplated. It is considered that the conservative approach, which is appropriate when considering the introduction of a radical land use such as mining in ecosystems as sensitive and important as those of St Lucia, would be for the numerous uncertainties and risks first to be more comprehensively investigated and assessed than has so far been possible. Items to be addressed in such investigations would be the capacity of the company to restore the mined area, the availability of alternative mining sites, the relative economic benefits of mining and ecotourism, questions of the water supplies and water economy of the mining proposal, the attitude of the international community to locate a mining operation within a Ramsar site, and others. These critical issues have not been addressed in the report.

Insufficient information on the long-term negative impacts of mining on this sensitive environment has been provided. Permission to mine should, therefore, be refused. ADDENDUM Summarised Conclusions and Recommendations of the Review Panel The public hearings were held in November 1993, and the Review Panel published their report on 10 December 1993. The panel concluded that no mining should be allowed in the Greater St Lucia Area. It was the task of the panel to reach a value judgement on the acceptability of mining on the Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. The following are some of the most significant conclusions and recommendations of the panel: In the panel's judgement, mining on the Eastern Shores would cause unacceptable damage to a place that is special because of its rich history, ecological and biological diversity, and the significance it has in the eyes of its many visitors.

Critics of the nature conservation and tourism land use option appear to be of the opinion that the economic benefits of this land use at a subregional scale would be less advantageous to local communities than that of the mining, especially in the generation of employment opportunities and the level of wages paid, but the validity of this has not been demonstrated.

• This unique combination makes the Greater St Lucia area a special asset to the nation. There is no substitute.

CONCLUSIONS • The area should be proclaimed a national park and acquire World Heritage status.

The Natal Parks Board is convinced that the nature conservation and tourism (non-mining) land use option is the most suitable land use for the long-term conservation of Lake St Lucia and its surrounds.

The area has a unique and special sense of place. This sense that the area 74


is precious was expressed by pupils and conservationists, and others of Western orientation, as well as those who are indigenous to the area. In the evidence before the panel, the special natural qualities of the St Lucia wilderness, its healing and calming effects on people, were mentioned. It provides tranquillity to groups of township youths at a time when many people are traumatised by violence.

Berruti, A., and Taylor. 1992. Terrestrial vertebrates. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1):305-46. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services. Branch, W. 1988. South African Red Data Book: Reptiles and amphibians. South African National Scientific Programmes Report 151:241. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services.

• Mining could irreparably reduce the biodiversity in its path and would significantly alter the sense of place that ordinary people have. The exact effects are impossible to predict.

Brooks, S., R. Edgecombe, B. Ellis, S. Kotze, and M. Snell. 1993. Comments on Dominy (1992): History of Lake St Lucia Eastern Shores. Mimeo. Pietermaritzburg: Natal Parks Board.

• Mining involves uncertainties and risks. Because of the unwanted questions, it remains a leap in the dark. Because of its special value, St Lucia is too precious to risk.

Bruton, M. 1980. Studies on the ecology of Maputaland, ed. K. Cooper. Rhodes University and Natal Branch, Wildlife Society. Commission of Enquiry: Lake St Lucia. 196466. Report of the Commission of Enquiry into the alleged threat to animal and plant life in Lake St Lucia. Pretoria Government.

The panel also recommended that the rights of the people who were forced to leave the area should be addressed as a matter of urgency, but it did not recommend the return of the evicted people to the Eastern Shores, "which would materially alter the sense of place so widely appreciated." They recommended restitution in other ways, including possible compensation and significant involvement in the management and operation of, as well as receiving direct economic benefits from, the area.

Council for Scientific and Industrial Research. 1993a. Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Key Issues Report 2:318. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services. —. 1993b. Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Environmental Impact Report 3:185. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services.

REFERENCES

Avis, A. 1992. Climate, soils, and land use potential. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1):169-85. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services.

—. 1993c. Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Final Report 4(l):300. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services.

Bainbridge, W., R. Porter, T. Hornby, and R. Hicks. 1991. Outdoor recreation and tourism facilities development plan: Eastern Shores State Forest and environs. Mimeo. Pietermaritzburg: Natal Parks Board.

Davies Lynn and Partners. 1992. Landform, geomorphology, and geology. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1):21-62. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services. 75


Ramsar Bureau. 1993. Ramsar Convention Monitoring Procedure Report 28: St Lucia System, South Africa. Mimeo. Switzerland: Ramsar Bureau.

Delegorgue, A. 1990. Travels in southern Africa, transl. Webb. Pietermaritzburg: Killie Campbell Africana Library. Department of Environment Affairs. 1992. The Integrated Environmental Impact Management Procedure. Pretoria: Department of Environment Affairs.

Semeniuk, V. and C., Research Group. 1992. Wetlands of the Eastern Shores Lake St Lucia, Natal: Classification, natural maintenance, and assessment of mining impacts. Mimeo. Pietermaritzburg: Natal Parks Board.

Dominy, G. 1992. History of Lake St Lucia Eastern Shores. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1):424-45. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services.

Stuckenberg, B. 1969. Effective temperature as an ecological factor in southern Africa. Zool. Aft. 4(2):145-97. Taylor, R. 1991. The Greater St Lucia Wetland Park. Pietermaritzburg: Park-Davis forNatal Parks Board.

Ellis, B. 1975. Game conservation in Zululand (1824-1947). Unpublished thesis.

Tinley, K. 1985. Coastal dunes of South Africa. South African National Scientific Programmes Report 109:293. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services.

Everard, D., A. Avis, and J. Mendelssohn. 1992. Biotic diversity. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Key Issues Report 2(4):55-74. Pretoria: CSIR Environmental Services.

World Bank. 1992. World Development Report: Development and the environment. New York City: Oxford.

Frost, S. 1990. Lake St Lucia: Public opinion, environmental issues to the position of the Government, 1964-1966 to 1989-1990: A case study in changing attitudes to conservation. Unpublished thesis.

Zingel, J. 1992. Social impacts. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1):561-91. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services.

Lubke, R., A. Avis, and P. Phillipson. 1992. Vegetation and floristics. In: Environmental Impact Assessment: Eastern Shores of Lake St Lucia. Specialist Report 1(1)(7):187-247. Grahamstown: Coastal and Environmental Services.

AUTHOR William Bainbridge Natal Parks Board P.O. Box 662 Pietermaritzburg 3200 Republic of South Africa

Parris, R., W. Bainbridge, and R. Porter. 1992. Economic contribution of the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park to the northeast Zululand Region of the Province of Natal, Republic of South Africa. Pietermaritzburg: Natal Parks Board.

76


APPLYING RESEARCH TO PARK PLANNING AND MANAGEMENT: A CASE STUDY OF KENYA'S MARA NATIONAL RESERVE WESLEY HENRY DAVID WESTERN

Wildlife tourism in the Republic of Kenya, a largely private business sector initiative, has consistently been one of the largest earners of foreign exchange in that country over the last several decades. Yet, there is a greater need for improved planning for this wildlife-based tourism than in virtually any other sector of the Kenyan economy. The most obvious reason stems from the deteriorating image of Kenya tourism internationally. The wildness that draws visitors from around the world is being lost in a welter of human activity in the heart of the parks and reserves. Wildlife-based tourism is no different from other industries that need some planning to sustain production to increase efficiency and profitability and reduce environmental impact. Yet, the industry is exceptional in one respect: The product, abundant wildlife in a natural setting--which is what most visitors to the national parks and reserves of Kenya come to see--is, like fine art, a rare and fragile attraction. Tourists are sensitive to the quality of Kenya's wildlife resource, and their willingness to pay depends upon the maintenance of this resource.

visitors that can be attracted to the parks and reserves or the revenues that are generated from visitors? The two are not the same. What part of the tourism market should a country try to capture? On this issue hinges the entire fabric of tourism policy and planning, and, ultimately, the welfare of the wildlife resource and its profitability to an entire country. It goes virtually without saying that not even the large areas such as the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem in East Africa can function as isolated tourist destinations. They more typically function as just one of several destinations on a tourist's itinerary, as part of a tourist circuit. With the Kenya-Tanzania border reopening, the Mara Reserve competes with Serengeti National Park and Nogorongoro Conservation Area in Tanzania. A greater number and variety of alternative sites within either country may affect patterns of visitation. By the same measure, any decrease in the standards of one large area such as the Mara can jeopardize the tourist industry for the whole country. This makes a clear case for carefully planning and regulating visitor use.

Clearly, there is a carrying capacity for Kenya's wildlife parks and reserves, but it depends on many things--the number and variety of animals, how many animals visitors wish to view, and the time they spend at viewing the most appealing wildlife, namely the big cats. It may depend on the sensitivity of the most popular attractions, the resilience of the habitat, the visitors' perceptions of overcrowding, and whether visitor impact can be constrained by management. Research has an important role here, if it can help to address what levels of use and impact are acceptable from a visitor and resource perspective. The starting point for this should lie in asking some key questions: Does management strive to maximize the number of

At the national level in Kenya, the Ministry of Tourism and Wildlife and the Kenya Wildlife Service must clearly plan for a sustainable and profitable tourist industry. This includes tourist destinations, networks, pricing policies, tourist management programs, training, and so on. Every wildlife viewing area, whether under the jurisdiction of the Kenya Wildlife Service, County Councils, or private ownership must fall under broad national policy guidelines in as much as wildlife is state-owned. At the regional or district level, a park or reserve still cannot be planned in isolation. Local gov ernment has the responsibility for conservation and development of resources, and it must bal-

VI A


ance these goals. In part, this balance can be achieved by making wildlife profitable through sustainable use. Achieving this balance calls for careful planning and management, a process to which research can make a major contribution.

Visitors experienced serious levels of congestion and queuing around major wildlife attractions in the Reserve. Visitors witnessed average concentrations of 10 vehicles around the predators; some even witnessed concentrations of between 30 and 50 vehicles. They believed the average approach distance was about 11 meters, although approaches of less than a meter also occurred. Typically, the predators were half to three quarters surrounded by vehicles, and some degree of harassment of these animals was going on at least two thirds of the time. Identified normative values were five to eight vehicles, an approach distance of 10 to 20 meters, and an encirclement of no more than one-quarter to one-half.

The carrying capacity of parks and reserves is an amount of tourist use beyond which will result in unacceptable consequences--ecological, social, and/or economic. Capacity will vary with the level and type of research, planning, investment, and management that is made. It should be seen as the means to an end, with the end being specified in terms of the desired future condition of the natural and cultural resources of the area, the visitor experience (what tourists want and are willing to pay for), and the local economy (what local residents want). In other words, both ecological and sociological information obtained through research become the basis for improving planning and management decisionmaking (Western, 1975; and Western and Henry, 1979).

The ecological impact of off-road driving was not considered to be major at that point in time, but it was a visual/aesthetic impact of significant proportion. Six out of the average of 36 kilometers driven on each wildlife viewing trip into the Mara was driven off-road. An extremely conservative estimate is that 142,560 kilometers are driven off road each year. Impact from vehicles on vegetation increased with the number of repeated passes and the severity of the turning radius. Vegetation losses were greater in the wet season as compared to the dry season; increases in soil compaction were noted in both dry and wet seasons; and some changes in species composition were also noted.

This is clearly seen in research conducted by Wildlife Conservation International (WCI) in Kenya's MaraNational Reserve (Gakahu, 1992), which was done in cooperation with Narok County Council, Kenya Wildlife Service, and U.S. Agency for International Development. This research included a visitor survey, driver survey, landowner survey, direct observations of tourist and driver behavior, direct measures of off-road driving, an experimental design to understand the effects of off-road driving, and direct observations of visitor/vehicle interactions with major predators (i.e., lion, cheetah, and leopard) thought to be critical, limiting attractions (Henry, 1992; and Muthee, 1992). Research results provide enormous insight useful to planning and managing this premier wildlife reserve:

Visitor and vehicle use was spatially concentrated to an extreme degree. On the eastern side of the reserve, all the viewing was in 33 percent of the area, and half of that in just 10 percent of the area. On the western side of the reserve, use was split between the reserve and Maasai Group Ranches, and the concentration of use appeared

Tourist vehicles were observed to interfere with normal activities of lion, cheetah, and leopard--particularly mobility. This may interfere with activities such as searching for prey, mates, and cover. Larger vehicles had more impact than small ones. 78


to be nearly as extreme as on the

Visitors indicated they got most of their information about the country and wildlife from their drivers, yet observation suggests drivers did not volunteer much information or interpret what was being seen. Visitors rate their drivers well on driving skills and basic wildlife identification, but less well on their knowledge of ecology, wildlife behavior, culture, conservation, and the country.

eastern side. This degree of concentration significantly increases the probability of congestion and impact. As much as half to three quarters of each wildlife viewing drive in the Mara occurred outside the reserve, But visitors did not appear to be concerned whether the scenery and wildlife they viewed was in the reserve or on private land, so long as it met their expectations. In fact, the presence of the Maasai people and livestock added to the enjoyment of most visitors. Moreover, due to the income from tourism, use on Maasai Group Ranches was welcomed by most local landowners.

Visitors clearly perceived problems in the reserve despite their brief exposure to the area. Visitor and vehiclerelated impacts were among the most clearly perceived. Visitors were supportive of most of a wide range of proposed management actions.^Some of the most restrictive measures also received the strongest endorsement from visitors.^This suggests that visitors really want these problems to be addressed.

Seeing an abundance and variety of wildlife in its natural setting was the most important single contributor to visitor satisfaction. Part of this was related to the wish to see something that future generations may not be able to see. And, while being in a safe, friendly country was of some importance, such things as accommodations, service, climate, food, and rest are of secondary importance.

'These findings set the stage for the development of explicit management objectives for planning and managing the reserve.^To do this will probably require the definition of specific visitor experience opportunity classes.^Examples of what these classes might look like are as follows: •^Wilderness - Area is characterized by essentially unmodified natural environment of large size.^Interaction between groups of users is low, and evidence of previous use is minimal. The area is managed so that it appears to be free from evidence of humaninduced restrictions and controls.

Experiencing a natural, wild setting, an area unaffected by humans was the single most important visitor preference with respect to viewing wildlife in the Mara. Abundance, variety, and rarity were of lesser importance. Visitors' wildlife viewing patterns were found to be skewed towards a limited number of species--the big cats and the large herbivores such as elephant, rhino, and hippo.^Visitor preferences suggest that if these animals were more abundant, visitors would spend an even higher proportion of their time viewing them. The biggest and fewest in number appeared to be the most attractive,

•^Wilderness(Motorized) -Areaischaracterized by essentially unmodified natural environment of large size. Interaction between groups of users/ vehicles is low, and evidence of previous use is minimal. The area is managed so that it appears to be free from evidence of human-induced restrictions and controls.^Access is provided by minor roads or tracks. 79


The research also clearly suggests some useful indicators of desired conditions and possible standards, although it is apparent that additional monitoring would need to be done to set standards for some of these indicators. (See table on following page.) Standards would likely vary by different opportunity zones within the park or reserve.

• Natural Area (Roaded) - Area is characterized by predominately natural-appearing environments with moderate evidence of the sights and sounds of humans. Such evidences usually harmonize with the natural environment. Interaction between user may be low to moderate, but with evidence of other users prevalent. Resource modification and utilization practices are evident, but harmonize with the natural environment. Motorized use is provided for in construction standards and facilities design.

Even though the above suggested lists of indicators and standards is not complete, some initial comparisons and conclusions are possible. Vehicle congestion is excessive--there are too many vehicles visible around the big game. The closeness, encirclement, and harassment of these predators is also excessive. Off-road driving is also perceived as a problem and could become a serious ecological problem if it grows worse. Congestion will only get worse if a limited number of predators remain--the largest focus of visitor interest.

• Developed Area - Area is characterized by substantially modified natural environment. Resource modification and utilization practices are to enhance specific recreation activities and maintain vegetative cover and soil. Sights and sounds of humans are readily evident, and the interaction between users/vehicles is often moderate to high. A considerable number of facilities are designed for use by a large number of people. Facilities are often provided for special activities. Moderate densities are provided far away from developed sites. Facilities for heavy motorized use and parking are available.

When the causes of problems in the Mara are considered, there are really a limited number of management issues that need to be considered. At this point, it is possible to say with certainty that management actions will ultimately need to be structured around the following: Visitor Information - Can improved information change what appears to be a visitor preoccupation with a limited number of animals? Is this a real preference or just ignorance and lack of information? The visitor survey suggests that this narrow focus has more to do with limited prior knowledge, limited types of information from tour companies and drivers, and driver behavior. Given that there is currently little in the way of interpretive services offered to visitors, provision of improved interpretive services, especially through drivers, could improve visitor enjoyment and reduce impact on the Mara. A number of management actions might be derived from this information: 1) driver training, 2) develop-

Objectives for each zone or management subunit would need to be developed using the detailed knowledge of visitor preferences that is now available. Maintaining a natural or naturalappearing environment is obviously paramount. It is also clear that visitors need to see one to two of the major big game--rhino, elephant, and hippo--during their stay. Opportunities for seeing the abundance and diversity of wildlife are also important. Other objectives might include minimal, apparent management intervention, maximum information provision, provision of static natural and cultural resource exhibits and other recreation opportunities, and minimum mileage travelled. 80


POSSIBLE INDICATORS^POSSIBLE RANGE FOR STANDARD Daily predator sightings/zone

0-3?

Total number of animals seen

25-1000+?

Total number of species seen

?

Total other vehicles seen

0-50?

Number of large vehicles seen

0-5?

Vehicle numbers around predators

0-8

Number of incidents of vehicular congestion experienced per drive

0-1?

Approach distance to predators

10-20? meters

Stay limit by predators

10-15? minutes, if other vehicles are waiting

Encirclement around predators

less than half encirclement

Harassment of predators

0 (none acceptable)

Ofd road driving

less than current (k) (none in wet season)

Average number of off-road tracks/ percent ground cover lost

0/less than current levels

Spatial concentration of use

less than current levels

Viewing times for minor species and birds

more than currently viewed

Stops at static attractions

more than currently stopped for

Note: ? indicates more information is needed. ment of pre-visit and on-site information for visitors, and 3) development of static interpretive points in the area.

with government regulatory measures if there is any hope for progress in improving the situation. For the longterm good of conservation and the industry, the welfare of the reserve is paramount. Limits on of road driving, maximum numbers of vehicles around predators, approach distances to predators, and degree of encirclement are examples of where regulations and ethics need to coincide.

Code of Ethics/Regulations The tourism industry has for too long put the burden of managing parks and reserves on government. This is not acceptable; a code of ethics needs to be adopted by industry in conjunction -

81


REFERENCES

Some type of licensing system seems inevitable. Management actions are readily justified.

Gakahu, C., ed. 1992. Tourist attitudes and use impacts in Maasai Mara National Reserve. In: Proceedings of Maasai Mara National Reserve workshop. Nairobi: WCI.

Infrastructure - The research shows that the current pattern of use is also a function of the current distribution of lodges and roads. The placement of any additional lodges must be done with exceeding care so as not to compound existing problems. And road design could, with careful planning, distribute use over a much wider area and to a greater number of attractions. This may be among the single most important management strategy for the area because of its impact on other management actions.

Henry, W., J. Waithaka, and C. Gakahu. 1992. Visitor attitudes, perceptions, norms, and use patterns influencing visitor carrying capacity. In: Tourist attitudes and use impacts in Maasai Mara National Reserve. In: Proceedings of Maasai Mara National Reserve workshop. Nairobi: WCI. Muthee, L. 1992. Ecological impacts of tourist use on habitats and pressure-point species. In: Tourist attitudes and use impacts in Maasai Mara National Reserve. In: Proceedings of Maasai Mara National Reserve workshop. Nairobi: WCI.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS When parks and equivalent types of reserves are experiencing ecological and social impacts from tourism, this does not automatically mean that the tourist capacity of these areas has been exceeded. But it certainly means that a greater investment in research, planning, management, and infrastructure may be required to insure that this does not become a self-fulfilling prophecy and irreversible damage is done to the resource or the industry. Measuring and understanding visitor attitudes and perceptions and the impacts of tourism is vital to understanding the potential capacity of an area to accommodate tourism and how to manage visitor use--especially when it is desirable to maximize tourist revenues.

Western, D. 1975. An assessment of visitor capacities and related planning needs for Mara, Samburu, and Sheba Game Reserves. Nairobi: World Bank. Western, D., and W. Henry. 1979. Economics and conservation in Third World national parks. BioScience. 29(7): 414-18. AUTHORS Wesley Henry Ranger Activities Division National Park Service P.O. Box 37127 Washington, DC 20013

The framework described above is essential to making full use of research information. Specific objectives need to be set for the resource and the visitor experience with indicators and standards specified. The existing situation needs to be evaluated against these indicators and standards to identify problem areas and to develop management strategies for meeting the objectives. Data from research in the Mara National Reserve show the potential of using this framework.

David Western Wildlife Conservation International P.O. Box 62844 Nairobi, Kenya

82


A CIRCUMPOLAR BIOSPHERE RESERVE NETWORK FOR MONITORING CHANGE DALE TAYLOR PAUL HAERTEL

ABSTRACT

buffer zone that functions to protect the core area, and a transition zone where development, experimental manipulation, recreation, and traditional use may occur. It is within the core area where the concepts of wilderness and biosphere reserve overlap. For example, three biosphere reserves in Alaska have 4.3 million hectares of wilderness. The Great Arctic Reserve on the Taymyr Peninsula will be 4.2 million hectares upon establishment as a biosphere reserve, making it one of the largest zapovedniks in Russia (WWF, 1993). The North-East Greenland Biosphere Reserve, at 97 million hectares, is one of the largest conservation reservations in the world.

Northern Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves contain some of the largest wilderness areas in the world. Managers from these 13 biosphere reserves in Canada (proposed reserve), Denmark (1), Finland (2 and one proposed), Norway (1), Russia (4), Sweden (1), and the United States (3) have formed a network for international cooperation. Integrated monitoring strategies will be developed to detect trends in environmental quality important to wilderness management. A primary goal will be to facilitate the dissemination of scientific information, including the possible creation of a northern databank. Common research and management needs will be identified, providing a foundation for manager exchanges and science coordination to learn of solutions to similar problems in other countries. A working group of three managers and a secretary will coordinate the activities. A small grant has been received from the U.S. Man and Biosphere Program (US MAB) to continue activities in 1994.

Bratton (1988) and Greene and Franklin (1988) describe the needs and opportunities for ecological research in wilderness. A number of documents recommend a network of international biosphere reserves where global change research would be conducted and where reserves can become effective catalysts for integrating conservation and for cooperation among protected areas (US MAB, 1989; US-USSRAgreement on Cooperation in the Field of Environmental Protection; and U.S. Arctic Research Commission, 1990). Wiersma (1984) discussed the need for an integrated background monitoring network to establish reference levels for pollutants, to serve as an early warning site for detecting global spread of pollutants, and to establish baseline levels for selected ecosystem parameters.

INTRODUCTION The biosphere reserve concept may at first seem to conflict with the concept of wilderness. Wilderness, as defined by U.S. Public Law 88-577, is an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, and where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. Wilderness areas are devoted to recreation, scenic, scientific, educational, conservation, and historical use [P.L. 88-577, Sec. 4(b)]. A biosphere reserve, on the other hand, is to promote a balanced relationship between people and their environment (Miller, 1982). A biosphere reserve is to have a non-manipulated core area where long-term measurements can be made, a

Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves are excellent places to test networking strategies because all countries have or are developing biosphere reserves, life ways of native people living within or near reserves are being impacted, pollution is a growing problem, development is proceeding rapidly, the subsistence lifestyle is a major concern, and global warming is predicted to occur 83


Russia

first and most severely in the circumpolar region. Towards this end, managers from existing and proposed Biosphere Reserves in the Circumpolar North held a workshop under U.S. MAB sponsorship at Anchorage, Alaska, in September, 1992. (See Figure 1.) A consensus set of recommendations was formulated, and a Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Managers Working Group was organized.

4. Tsentralno-Sibirski Biosphere Reserve 5. Great Arctic Biosphere Reserve (proposed) 6. Pechoro-Ilychski Biosphere Reserve 7. Laplandski Biosphere Reserve Finland

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8. Archipelago Sea National Park and Biosphere Reserve

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9. Liekson Hoitoalue/Patvinsuo National Park and Biosphere Reserve

7

6

Sweden 10.Lake Tome Biosphere Reserve Norway S

11.Northeastem Island Biosphere Reserve Denmark 12.N.E. Greenland Biosphere Reserve Canada 13.Clyde River Biosphere Reserve(proposed) Figure 1, Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves. United States

CIRCUMPOLAR BIOSPHERE RESERVES NETWORK

1. Glacier Bay National Park, Preserve, Biosphere Reserve, and World Heritage Site and Admiralty Island National Monument and Biosphere Reserve

Managers from 13 Biosphere Reserves have formed a Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves Network. (See Figure 1.) The function of the network will be to establish cooperation between Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves, explore how MAB institutions can better serve Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves, and carry out specific tasks through the Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Managers Working Group.

2.Denali National Park, Preserve, and Biosphere Reserve 3. Noatak National Preserve and Biosphere Reserve 84


Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Managers Working Group

Biosphere Reserve, levels of information available, and levels of staffing, funding, and equipment. These differences are far over-ridden by the similarities thus allowing for cooperative research projects such as comparative shortterm biodiversity studies, global change research, long-term monitoring, and management of human use and activities within Biosphere Reserves. Biosphere Reserves can also form the foundation for other international projects. For example, the Panarctic Biota Project, with project directors at the Smithsonian Institution in the United States and the Russian Academy of Sciences in Russia, is an attempt to inventory plants, birds, mammals, fish, and invertebrates in all circumpolar countries. The International Tundra Experiment (ITEX), now centered at the Danish Polar Center in Copenhagen does common long-term experiments to assess the effect of climate change on key species of Arctic plants.

A Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Managers Working Group was established as part of the Northern Science Network (NSN) to catalyze cooperation on actions described in the following agreed upon recommendations: • The level of activity will be dependent on funding. • The Group is to meet in two years in conjunction with the NSN general meeting. • The NSN is an UNESCO MAB net work advised by MAB National Committees from 11 countries. • A secretariat is stationed at the Arctic Centre in Rovaniemi, Finland.

The following projects will be completed by the Steering Committee:

The Working Group is to be guided by a steering committee consisting of Jouko Hogmander of the Archipelago Sea National Park and Biosphere Reserve (Europe); Dr Igor Kostin of Moscow and the Taymyr Reserve and proposed Biosphere Reserve (Russia); Marvin Jensen of Glacier Bay National Park and Biosphere Reserve (North America); and Dr Dale Taylor of the National Park Service, Alaska Region, serving as Steering Committee Secretary.

Exchange research bibliographies and current and planned research and monitoring activities. 2. Develop fauna and flora species data bases for Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves following the Biosphere Reserve Integrated Monitoring (BRIM) protocol of EuroMab. 3. Explore compatible data systems by:

The Steering Committee, representing the 13 existing and proposed Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves and two World Heritage Sites, proposes a modest beginning in 1994 to implement recommendations from the workshop.

a. surveying computer hardware and software capabilities and transferability between each Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve; and

Initiate Cooperative Projects between Biosphere Reserves

b. surveying types of data and methods of storage currently used.

Presentations during the workshop showed Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves have similar vegetation type, species, subsistence needs, threats from global change, and threats from development. There are some differences such as management strategies, stage of designation as a

4. Develop strategies for future cooperative research such as the ITEX, global change, biodiversity, long-term monitoring for biological change, monitoring pollutants, and human use of biosphere reserves. 85


A publication discussing results of these initiatives will implement several workshop recommendations, furthering cooperation on monitoring, research, and data exchanges.

Educational materials on biosphere reserves, wilderness values, important regional resource issues, and sustainable development are encouraged for use in local schools. Teacher training packages are to be included.

FUTURE COOPERATION

The MAB and wilderness training and orientation for new managers will be requested of MAB National and International Committees within six months of appointment. The training is to include a definition of the role and function of managers at the local, national, and international levels. To further educational experience, a program for manager exchanges is being developed by the Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Managers Steering Committee.

Once the initial tasks are completed in 1994, future cooperation will focus on monitoring and data exchange, communication and linkages, and accessing basic site information. Cooperation in Monitoring and Research

Lists of current and planned research and monitoring activities will be exchanged and used in identifying opportunities for coordinated monitoring programs. These programs will describe critical resource management issues, determine items to monitor, and determine monitoring protocols.

Access to Basic Site Information

A catalog and atlas providing detailed text on unit descriptions, resource management issues, primary research emphases, and maps for all Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves is to be prepared and printed in appropriate languages for understanding by local citizens. A catalog and atlas of research sites and facilities is to be published.

A list of research needs that address generic issues common between Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves will be prepared.

CONCLUSIONS

Joint projects between cooperating Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves will be proposed through: (a) identification of sister Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves with common problems and themes and (b) preparation of MAB pilot and comparative study proposals.

The recommended programs, though specifically for Biosphere Reserves, have broad application for implementing the wilderness concept. Gregg (1987) notes that wilderness and biosphere reserves are complementary, mutually reinforcing concepts. McCloskey (1989) describes the need for education, science, and research in wilderness areas. Vento (1989) points to the lack of a monitoring system to measure trends in the condition of wilderness resources. These needs overlap needs in biosphere reserves. Core areas designated wilderness within biosphere reserves are the gold standard against which anthropogenic change can be measured.

Communication and Linkages

Efforts will focus on strengthening local, regional, and international cooperation involving biosphere reserve managers. At the local level, each Circumpolar Biosphere Reserve Manager is encouraged to inform local community leaders about the purpose and significance of Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves. Proposals for demonstrating local sustainable development are encouraged. A cooperative association with private citizen groups outside and/or inside the Reserve can help develop and facilitate science, education, and demonstration programs that help support cooperative ecosystem management.

Biosphere reserves are relatively new in their implementation (Gregg, 1987). As a consequence, a constituency is only recently developing. The program needs understanding at the local level, support at the national and international levels, and funding support to be carried out. 86


REFERENCES

United States-Russian Joint Committee on Cooperation in the Field of Environmental Protection. 1992. Washington: U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

88th U.S. Congress. 1964. Wilderness Act. P.L. 88-577, S.4. Bratton, S. 1988. Environmental monitoring in wilderness. In: Wilderness Benchmark 1988--Proceedings of the National Wilderness Colloquium. USFS, General Technical Report SE-5 1.

Vento, B. 1989. A Wilderness revolution for the 1990s. In: Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource--Proceedings from the conference (Minneapolis). Wiersma, G. 1984. Integrated global background monitoring network. In: Proceedings from the Symposium on Research and Monitoring in Circumpolar Biosphere Reserves (Watertown Lakes, Alberta, Canada).

Gregg, W. 1987. On wilderness, national parks, and biosphere reserves. In: 4th World Wilderness Congress Worldwide Conservation--Proceedings of Symposium on Biosphere Reserves.

World Wildlife Fund. 1993. Nature reserves of Taymyr. WWF-Arctic and Eastern/Central Programmes.

Greene, S., and J. Franklin. 1988. The state of ecological research in forest service wilderness. In Wilderness Benchmark 1988--Proceedings of the National Wilderness Colloquium. USFS, General Technical Report SE-5 1.

AUTHORS Dale Taylor Paul Haertel Alaska Regional Office USDI National Park Service 2525 Gambell Street Anchorage, AK 99503

McCloskey, M. 1989. The meaning of wilderness. In: Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource-Proceedings from the conference (Minneapolis). Miller, K. 1982. Biosphere Reserves in concept and practice. In: Towards the Biosphere Reserve/Exploring Relationships Between Parks and Adjacent Lands--Proceedings of an international symposium, (Kalispell, Montana) eds R. Scace and C. Martinka . U.S. Arctic Research Commission. 1990. Arctic research: A focus on international cooperation. U.S. Arctic Research Commission Report to the President and the Congress of the United States. Oct. 1988Sept. 1989. U.S. Man and the Biosphere Program. 1989. In draft. Guidelines for the selection and coordination of Biosphere Reserves in the United States. Washington: U.S. MAB Program, Department of State.

87


MANAGEMENT AND PLANNING OF THE WILDERNESS AREAS IN FINLAND TAPIO TYNYS

directs and manages the use of this natural resource. The organisation also makes use of the area by selling timber, fishing licenses, and holding rights.

NORTHERN LAPLAND Ten of the 12 wilderness areas in Finland are located in northern Finland. Northern Finland belongs to the narrow circumpolar zone in eastern Fennoscandia. Here, the Golf Stream bends the vegetation zones to the north creating circumstances with Arctic light and sub-Arctic or even mild temperatures. (See Figure 1.) The northern/alpine tree-lines of mountain birch Betula pubescens var. tortuosa, pine Pinus sylvestris and, spruce Picea abies ssp. obovata are all found in northern Finland. The nature of southern Finland, especially around Lake Inari, is characterizised by vast pine forests, numerous lakes, and some fells. In the northern and western parts of the country, the gently sloping fells are open or the slopes are covered by mountain birch forests. There are also vast mires.

All the land use in the state lands, except forestry, has increased during the period mentioned above. There are more reindeers, fishermen, hunters, hikers, and tourists than ever before; and there are more roads, cars, snowmobiles, motorboats, aeroplanes, power lines, and links than ever before. Up until the 1950s, Forest State, as the local people call the organisation, concentrated on administrational and protectional tasks like fire control. From the 1950s to the middle of the 1980s, forestry was clearly the main activity of the organisation. Logging was the main source of income in Inari Commune up until the 1970s. Forest roads were constructed, and vast areas of pine forest were cut into seed-tree position.

The density of the population is only 0.4 inhabitants per square kilometre. People living in the area are of Finnish, Samish, or Finnish-Samish origin. The cultures of both the nationalities are much alike today. The characteristics of Samish culture is best maintained in Utsjoki Commune.

Gradually, during the 1970s, there happened a big change in attitudes towards Finnish forestry. In northern Finland, Forest State was criticized for its large logging areas and dense road construction and later for logging old, virgin forests. (Most of the old forests are virgin.) Multiple use of the forests and nature conservation were demanded.

Most people make their living in public or private services. Nature tourism in the area has increased fast. The share of the primary production is about 15 percent of the working people. The natural means of livelihood, especially reindeer husbandry and fishing, are important, and so is forestry in Inari Commune. There is only a little industry.

Different national conservation programs were drawn up. Old nature conservation areas were enlarged, and new ones were formed, especially in Lapland where state-owned lands were situated. Besides conservation objectives, the aims of the reindeer husbandry were often the most important consideration in political decisionmaking.

THE CHANGES IN STATE LAND USE DURING 1950 THROUGH 1993 The state owns 89 percent of the lands and waters in northern Finland. The Northern Lapland District for Wilderness Management (NLDWM)

88


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The Southern Border of the Northern Lapland District for Wilderness Management

Figure 1. Vegetation zones in northern Finland and northern Norway. 89


During this process, the Inari Forest District (now called the Northern Lapland District for Wilderness Management) had to seriously reconsider its role. The value of the northern areas, especially virgin forest areas, had increased drastically. The organisation continued to face situations with conflicting objectives. The owner, the Finnish state, expected high annual net incomes and a high level of nature conservation activities at the same time. In response to the local, national, and international demands, the organisation decided in 1987 to participate in all activities concerning the use and management of northern lands and waters. This meant a drastic change of emphasis in activities. The immaterial values started to replace material values and products. The statuses of outdoor recreation and nature conservation rose gradually to the same level (and higher) as forestry. This change was concretized in a new organisation model in 1993. Three communal consultative committees were formed in 1993 by the initiative of the NLDWM. The committees direct the organisation in strategic and principal questions. The local commune and Sami Parliament nominate their representatives for the committee. In forestry, Forest State changed its silvicultural and cutting methods. In Northern Lapland, a method called natural forestry was adopted. It means "small cutting areas with natural boundaries." Virgin forest areas of about the same size are left between the areas treated. Natural forestry also means that "old trees and birches are left in the logging areas." The maintenance of diversity between the stands is highly emphasized, because the degree of the natural diversity is usually rather low in Northern Lapland. Winter roads (based on the frozen soil and smoothing effect of the compressed snow) are used instead of permanent roads as much as possible.

moved 1.5 million hectares, of which 170,000 hectares are productive forest land, to a Wilderness Areas category. (See Figure 2.) Finnish wilderness areas are a transition form between nature conservation areas and economic areas. On this basis, the areas designated wilderness became large. They even consist of some margin areas with roads and old logging areas. Most of the wilderness area is in a virgin state. Forest fire areas younger than 30 years don't exist, with a few exceptions because of the improved fire control. The lichen is overgrazed, especially in the fell areas. The wilderness areas cover watercourses and mires, forest on the tree limit, and well-growing forest. Also, vast tracts of fell land are included. The objectives of the Wilderness Act are to maintain wilderness, secure the Samish culture, secure natural means of livelihood, and develop multiple use of wilderness and preconditions for multiple use. The basis for wilderness conservation lies in the coordination of the traditional means of livelihood and the interests of recreation and some forestry. The present uses of the areas are not generally affected by the Wilderness Act. No permanent roads may be built, nor is mining permitted. The NLDWM cannot hand over or lease lands within the wilderness areas, nor the holding rights for such lands. Building for other purposes than those pertaining to the traditional means of livelihood and outdoor recreation is forbidden. The Wilderness Act doesn't directly deal with reindeer husbandry, hunting, fishing, berry picking, gold washing, or cross-country or air traffic. These actions are regulated by other acts controlled by officials representing different administrative organisations.

THE FINNISH WILDERNESS ACT As for land allocation, a really important change happened in 1991 when the Wilderness Act was approved by the Finnish Parliament. The act

The maximum amount of reindeers is ordered. Berry picking and free access to the wilderness areas belong to the all-man-rights. The local people have a free hunting right in state lands


WILDERNESS AND NATURE CONSERVATION AREAS IN NORTHERN FINLAND Anna

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Figure 2. 91


the plan is improved by statements from the parties concerned.

during accepted periods and within aerial quotas (for moose and bear). Local persons also have limited, free fishing permission in their local fishing areas. Gold washing from loose soil is allowed, also using heavy machinery.

The objectives of the Wilderness Act are a bit contradictory. It is not possible to maintain wilderness character and develop the multiple use of an area at the same time. The NLDWM tries to solve this problem by dividing the area into a core part and a border part. In the core area, the maintenance of wilderness character is of highest priority. Thus, no cottages, tracks, or other services for outdoor recreation are built there.

Cross-country traffic is controlled by the NLDWM. Today, local persons are usually licensed to drive a snowmobile on state lands in their own commune and in wilderness areas. Some tracks are open to everyone. Cross-country driving in the summertime is forbidden, with the exception of a few tracks. According to the Cross-Country Traffic Act, reindeer owners are allowed to drive anywhere, anytime, when running their business.

The necessary outdoor recreation services are concentrated in the border area, usually to places which already are in intensive use. Also, the areas where natural minor forestry is presented are located in the border area.

As for air traffic, using lakes and rivers for landing and take-off is permitted.

Today, the description and draft of the Hammastunturi Wilderness Area Plan is complete. Three other plans are under development. All the maintenance and care plans are supposed to be ready in about five years.

THE PLANNING PROCEDURE FOR THE WILDERNESS AREAS The use of northern wilderness areas is regulated and directed by the NLDWM on the basis of individual maintenance and care plans drawn up for each area. Such plans cannot be implemented until sanctioned by the Ministry of Environment.

The public participation method is used for the first time ever in land use allocation in the Finnish Forest and Park Service. In general, the method is new in Finland.

The maintenance and care plan consists of two parts: 1) the description of the area and 2) the plan.

After completing the management plans for the wilderness areas, the conservation and forestry areas give a good basis for sustainable and multiple use of land and waters. All in all, this planning procedure helps to implement the basic idea of the Forest and Park Service in northern Finland: to fit together the various kinds of uses and interests of the population.

The description part includes the illustration of the natural surroundings (e.g., topography, geology, hydrology, vegetation, and fauna, with a special attention to threatened species and landscape) and the history of the area's use. Also, the place-names and their backgrounds are illustrated. The basic description of the wilderness area is drawn up in cooperation with scientists, NLDWM officials, and local experts.

AUTHOR Tapio Tynys Northern Lapland District for Wilderness Management Finnish Forest and Park Service Ivalo, Finland

The plan is made by the public participation method. It includes a public hearing, official and unofficial meetings inside or in the wilderness, phone calls, and interviews. Finally, the draft of

ON


Part 2: Wilderness Management


USDI BUREAU OF LAND MANAGEMENT WILDERNESS INVENTORY AND REVIEW PROGRAM KEITH CORRIGALL

Congress also said an area designated as wilderness must be managed to preserve its wilderness character. Although there are legally allowed exceptions such as emergencies and administrative needs, wilderness designation generally means:

BACKGROUND The original Wilderness Act, enacted into law on 3 September 1964, did not include public lands administered by the USDI Bureau of Land Management (BLM). Only lands managed by the USDA Forest Service (USFS), USDI National Park Service (NPS), and USDI Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) were made subject to the provisions of the Wilderness Act. It was not until the passage of the Federal Land Policy and Management Act (FLPMA), on 21 October 1976, that BLM lands have been included in the Wilderness Act provisions. Accordingly, at the present time, only four federal agencies (BLM, USFS, NPS, and FWS) are authorized to administer lands as part of the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS). Lands administered by these agencies become part of the NWPS only through official statutory designation by the U.S. Congress.

• no commercial uses are allowed (except livestock grazing and certain ongoing mining and mineral leasing); • no permanent or temporary roads are allowed; • no use of motorized vehicles, equipment, or motorboats are allowed; • no landing of aircraft is allowed; and • no structures are allowed.

PROGRAM PHASES

The Wilderness Act specified that federal lands administered by the agencies described above must have certain special characteristics to be considered for wilderness preservation:

The FLPMA specified the various activities that were to be undertaken in the review and study of the public lands administered by the BLM. The FLPMA also set deadlines for reporting wilderness recommendations and specified how the lands under wilderness review were to be managed, and presently continue to be managed, pending final congressional action. The various phases involved in the BLM wilderness program were:

1. they must be in a generally natural condition; they must have outstanding opportunities for solitude or a primitive and unconfined type of recreation;

1. inventorying the public lands for wilderness characteristics;

they must be at least 5,000 acres large or large enough to preserve and use as wilderness; and

2. protecting areas undergoing wilderness review;

4. they may also contain ecological, geological, or other features of scientific, scenic, or historical value.

3. studying identified Wilderness Study Areas (WSAs); 94


4.reporting these recommendations to the Secretary of the Interior; and

At the completion of the inventory phase, the BLM determined that over 26,000,000 acres, comprising over 800 WSAs, located in 11 western states, qualified for further study to determine whether such areas should be recommended for wilderness designation.

5.managing all wilderness areas designated by Congress to preserve their natural character. Inventory

Interim Protection and Management

The FLPMA required the BLM to review all roadless public land areas of 5,000 acres or more and roadless islands to identify those with the required wilderness characteristics. Areas less than 5,000 acres can also be considered in certain circumstances under the basic planning authority of the FLPMA.

These WSAs are managed differently than the rest of the public lands. This interim management applies until the time a final decision is made by Congress as to whether they become part of the NWPS or are released for non-wilderness uses. To help the public understand which activities could and could not be authorized as WSAs, the BLM developed, with the public's help, the Interim Management Policy and Guidelines for Lands under Wilderness Review.

To guide the inventory on the 174 million acres of BLM land in the lower 48 states, the BLM developed a Wilderness Inventory Handbook. (Alaska was not included in the original inventory.) The handbook called for a two-step inventory process. Both steps involved broad public involvement.

The policy closely follows the congressional mandate, particularly in acknowledging the distinction among three categories of activities: 1. new activities occurring after the FLPMA's passage on 21 October 1976;

During the initial inventory conducted between 1978 and 1979, areas that were generally recognized by the BLM and the public as obviously having no wilderness characteristics were eliminated from further wilderness review. This initial evaluation reduced the acreage under consideration to about 50 million acres.

2. grazing or mineral uses in operation prior to that date; and 3. valid existing rights.

With this acreage then as the focus, the BLM began the intensive inventory. During this phase, conducted between 1979 and 1980, BLM resource professionals conducted on-the-ground inspections of each area. These professionals looked at each area to determine the presence or absence of wilderness characteristics. Public participation was encouraged, both during the field inspections and the review of the BLM's intensive inventory' findings. The public was responsive. More than 10,000 comments were received from across the country. At the end of the intensive inventory, the BLM designated the areas possessing the basic characteristics as WSAs.

New activities can be allowed in a WSA if they meet the non-impairment standard contained in the FLPMA. Congress declared that lands under wilderness review were to be managed "so as not to impair the suitability of such areas for preservation as wilderness." To meet this standard, activities must not cause any significant impacts. Depending on climate, soils, and topography, this standard can accommodate some mineral exploration and other activities, but any long-term development would depend on Congress' wilderness decision. Congress also declared that certain grazing and mining uses already in existence when the FLPMA was passed could continue. Commonly called 95


grand fathered uses, the law says these activities can continue in the same "manner and degree" as when the FLPMA became law. Valid existing rights, such as valid claims under the 1872 Mining Law and mineral leases issued before 21 October 1976, are eligible for full development. Like all activities on public lands, however, they must be conducted in a manner to prevent "undue or unnecessary degradation" on the land, as directed by the FLPMA. Applying such complex legal criteria to on-theground management on a case-by-case basis is a challenge. The BLM works closely with all interested parties to ensure interim management fully meets the requirements of the law. Study

Once public land areas possessing the basic wilderness characteristics specified by Congress were identified, detailed wilderness studies began. To guide this effort, the BLM developed, again with the public's help, its Wilderness Study Policy. The primary goal of the BLM wilderness study process is to analyze an area's suitability or nonsuitability for preservation as wilderness. This analysis is made through the BLM's established land use planning system based on the resource data, evaluations made by the BLM's resource professionals in the field, and public comments. The wilderness values in a WSA are evaluated in the context of all the other multiple uses present in the area. The analysis is accompanied by an Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) and released for public review. The central question in a wilderness study is: Is this area more suitable for wilderness designation or more suitable for non-wilderness uses? To answer this question, the study examines each WSA from three different standpoints: 1) What are the area's wilderness values? 2) What effect would wilderness designation have upon present and potential uses of the area? 3) What does the public think?

In analyzing wilderness values, the BLM considers the quality of the area's naturalness, its opportunities for solitude or for primitive and unconfined recreation, and any special features such as geological, ecological, scientific, educational, scenic, or historical values. The study also analyzes whether wilderness designation would have any beneficial effect upon other resource uses and whether designation of a particular WSA would contribute to expanding the diversity of the NWPS. In the wilderness study process, trade-offs between wilderness and non-wilderness uses are examined closely. The BLM identifies all uses and potential uses of the WSA other than wilderness (such as energy and minerals or timber production) and analyzes how wilderness designation would affect these potential uses.

The BLM then evaluates how the land would be managed if the WSA is not designated as wilderness and analyzes how this type of management would affect these wilderness values. Studies also examined the local social and economic effects of wilderness designation and considered whether designation would be consistent with existing land use plans of state and local governments, Indian tribes, and other federal agencies. Once the BLM completed its field studies and the public has reviewed the draft findings and recommendations, the Geological Survey and Bureau of Mines began their work on the mineral evaluations. These detailed studies were done only on areas initially recommended by the BLM as suitable for wilderness designation. However, in developing its preliminary recommendations, the BLM used all minerals information available from public and private sources. Reporting

The FLPMA required the Secretary of the Interior to complete the review of the public lands for wilderness potential and report the findings to the


Presides within 15 years (i.e., by 21 October 1991). The Secretary's reports included the BLM's final suitability report, the final EIS, including analyses of public comments, the public hearing records, and the mineral evaluations conducted by the Geological Survey and the Bureau of Mines on any area recommended as suitable for wilderness.

To guide on-the-ground management in these, areas, the BLM developed, with the public's help, Wilderness Management Policy and Regulations. The policy closely follows the management directions of the 1964 Wilderness Act. It is the policy of the BLM to manage designated wilderness areas to preserve their wilderness character for future use and enjoyment of all Americans.

The final step of the reporting process is for the President to make recommendations to Congress. Only Congress can designate an area as part of the NWPS.

Some of the management goals identified in the policy and regulations include:

This is the sequence of reporting outlined in the FLPMA for the President and Secretary of the Interior to follow. However, sometimes Congress finds it necessary to consider an area for wilderness preservation when the studies are ongoing and no presidential recommendation has yet been made. When this occurs, the Department of the Interior testifies on the legislation using all information available at the time to give Congress an idea of an area's suitability or nonsuitability for wilderness preservation. This situation occurred with BLM Arizona areas, and Congress, in November 1990, designated over I million acres as wilderness.

• preserving naturalness, solitude, and special features; • prohibiting certain uses, as the Wilderness Act directs; • managing visitor use to prevent damage to wilderness values; • regulating special allowed uses (such as livestock grazing) in a reasonable and responsible manner; • prohibiting buffer zones around wilderness areas;

All phases of the BLM review and study program are essentially completed.

• providing adequate visitor information and education; and

On 21 June 1991, the Secretary submitted recommendations to the President for California; and on 18 October 1991, recommendations for Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, and Wyoming were similarly sent to the President.

• ensuring sound administration of each area through development of an individual management plan. These goals set the framework for the detailed guidance in Wilderness Management Policy and Regulations on specific activities that can and cannot be allowed in designated wilderness areas.

The President, after evaluation of the recommendations, concurred with the recommendations and transmitted them to the Congress between May 1992 and January 1993. All recommendations are currently pending before the U.S. Congress.

CURRENT STATUS

At the present time, the BLM statewide reporting packages for California, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wyoming have been submitted to the U.S. Congress by the President. If approved by

Management

Once Congress designates an area as wilderness and the legislation is signed by the President, it immediately becomes part of the NWPS. 97


Congress as submitted, the BLM would have an additional 330 units, compromising approximately 10,000,000 acres (4,046,945 hectares) to be managed as wilderness under provisions of the Wilderness Act. The BLM currently manages 68 wilderness areas, containing approximately 1,670,000 acres (676,000 hectares). These existing areas comprise 2 percent of the NWPS 's total acreage. As of September 1993, the NWPS contained 96,053,113 acres (38,872,162 hectares) of 564 units with the following distribution: • USFS - 397 units (34,567,227 acres); • NPS - 42 units (39,140,023 acres); • FWS - 75 units (20,676,341 acres); and • BLM - 68 units (1,669,522 acres). The BLM is continuing wilderness studies on a lesser scale as part of the regular land use planning process for lands administered by the BLM and will continue to submit recommendations for additional wilderness designations to the NWPS. The future acreage that may be involved or found suitable for designation is unknown. Significant acreage could be involved for BLM lands in Alaska. In states other than Alaska, additional acreage is not anticipated to be large when compared to the acreage managed by the USFS, NPS, and FWS. The ultimate acreage to be managed by the BLM in the future is dependent on legislation enacted by the U.S. Congress to add lands to the NWPS. AUTHOR Keith Corrigall Branch of Wilderness Resources Bureau of Land Management Washington, DC 20240

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WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT PLANNING— CONTRADICTORY OR COMPLEMENTARY CONCEPT? ERIC FINSTICK CLAIRE PAYNE MARK YOUNG

In 1978, Roderick Nash addressed the issue of wilderness management and concluded that it "... is indeed a contradiction in terms, but at the same time a necessity if anyone is to have any semblance of a wilderness experience ...." Nevertheless, the perception persists among many people that once an area is designated as wilderness, it is simply left alone. Wilderness, by its nature, seems incompatible with management, or worse still, planning!

According to Hendee and others (1990): Without management plans derived from an orderly planning process, wilderness management may be no more than a series of uncoordinated reactions to immediate problems. They contend that "management by reaction" can lead to long-term loss of naturalness, as has occurred at Lake Kachess in Washington, where facility development to keep up with increasing numbers of recreationalists has significantly altered the natural setting. Another issue that has been much less analyzed is continued livestock grazing in conjunction with changing numbers of wildlife through loss of predators, increased or decreased hunting, or increasingly common reintroductions of native species. These factors may lead to long-term vegetation changes and soil conditions, resulting in alteration of other wildlife habitats, substantially changing the ecological character of the wilderness over time.

However, a wilderness system that allows multiple uses such as hunting, tourism, grazing, wildlife management, uses by indigenous populations, and even grand-fathered mining and motorized use contains inherent conflicts. These often nonconforming or competing uses are at odds both with each other and with the overriding objective of preserving the wilderness character. The greater the number and intensity of potentially conflicting uses, the greater the need to plan for resolving these conflicts. If such a thing as a "true wilderness" could be found, existing only to be preserved in its natural state, without use of any kind by humanity, unaffected by outside influences, such an area would require no or relatively little planning. It could be left alone to function naturally. But the moment an outside influence occurs, such as an intrusion of polluted water or air, it becomes necessary to evaluate and mitigate the effects of these non-natural influences. Even more critically, in a multiple-use situation, we must consider how all these activities interact with each other and with the natural systems we are striving to protect. It becomes necessary to make complex decisions regarding a variety of uses and often conflicting objectives. In short, planning in some form becomes necessary to make these decisions.

A conflict due to a competing use is in process in the Maroon Bells Wilderness in Colorado, where an inholding was acquired that included surface estate only. Subsequently, the owners of the mineral estate proposed a huge marble quarry and haul road several miles into the wilderness. In this instance, the wilderness managers may have been victimized by circumstances rather than lack of planning, but the end result illustrates what could happen if planning is not sufficiently thorough or comprehensive. The following observations and analyses are qualitative and based on a sampling of recent plans completed by the USDI Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and the USDA Forest Service (USFS). This is not intended to be a quanti99


tative or exhaustive review. Such an exercise would be useful, but far too voluminous and time consuming for this paper. We believe the trends and generalizations identified here would be confirmed and corroborated by a more complete study. Our conclusions are based principally on examination of several recent plans, either completed or near completion, although a larger number of plans have been reviewed, some of which are referred to for anecdotal illustration of specific points as appropriate. These plans include Forest Plans, Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) documents, and Wilderness Implementation Schedules (WISs) for the Little Frog Wilderness in Tennessee and the Superstition Mountains Wilderness in Arizona; BLM Wilderness Management Plans for Aravaipa Canyon and Paria Canyon in Arizona; and draft materials for plans currently being developed for the Wabayuma Peak/Mount Tipton, Peloncillo Mountains, and Maricopa Mountains BLM wilderness areas, also in Arizona. The BLM and the USFS have quite different policies regarding wilderness management plans. The BLM's policy is relatively straightforward. Management plans are to be completed for all designated wilderness areas. Although the policy states a time frame of within two years, funding and staffing have often prevented that quick of a response. Nevertheless, the policy is taken seriously, and plans are completed, underway, or scheduled. In the USFS, the Forest Plan for each national forest, within which each wilderness area lies, is intended to provide the necessary wilderness management guidance. A Forest Plan, then, is typically followed by a WIS, which sets forth timetables, funding needs, and specific actions needed to implement the Forest Plan decisions. In cases where the Forest Plan guidance is not sufficiently specific or current, an amendment to the Forest Plan may be prepared to provide the necessary direction. The application of LAC methodology is encouraged at varying points in the process. Each Forest Supervisor has a great deal of flexibility regarding the specific process and methodology to be utilized.

The processes employed by both the BLM and USFS require evaluation of alternatives, public involvement, and analyses of environmental impacts. Although these processes appear different, it is apparent from reviewing a number of actual situations that the end results can be and often are quite comparable. We did not attempt to review planning efforts by the other National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS) managing agencies, namely the USDI National Park Service (NPS) and USDI Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS). Their efforts rely heavily on incorporation of wilderness management into their own agency plans, such as the General Management Plan (NPS) and Refuge Plan (FWS), potentially followed by more detailed implementation or specific area plans, similar to the tier approach used by the USFS. In reviewing wilderness management plans, we decided to focus on outputs (i.e., management decisions) rather than attempt to assess a variety of different approaches and procedural characteristics. All plans contain critical elements such as objectives, public involvement, environmental impact analyses, and evaluation of alternatives; in the end, plans are only effective if their management decisions are useful. In reviewing those decisions, we focused on two aspects: 1) specificity and 2) comprehensiveness. These characteristics are represented among 10 "criteria for evaluating wilderness management plans" (Hendee et al., 1990). Criterion number 9 states, in part:

Is the guidance contained in the plan designed to resolve the issues and management concerns facing field managers? To be effective and useful, plans need to provide site-specific application of national wilderness management guidance. Generic planning documents, those that are so general that they could apply to any wilderness area, cannot provide the guidance field managers need to resolve their everyday challenges. 100


This criterion deals explicitly with plan specificity, while the need for comprehensive decisions is more implicit.

recreation areas, such as Aravaipa Canyon and Paria Canyon, specific recreation management decisions were reached, even though the plans are somewhat older--completed in the late 1980s. In the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Management Plan, specific guidance is provided and applied to four opportunity classes. Dozens of management actions are addressed, and rankings of most preferable to least preferable are assigned to each class. Most specific actions relate to recreation.

The following discussion is not intended to critique or criticize any particular plans, but rather to assess some aspects of the state of the art. References to specific plans are for illustration only. The plans reviewed include some of those most recently completed or currently underway, and, therefore, are probably some of the best in use at this time.

In short, if we have captured a representative sample of state-of-the-art plans, wilderness managers are making fairly specific recreation management decisions. If, however, many or most of the decisions on other issues are generic, that leads logically to a discussion of the comprehensiveness of the plans. Are all the issues that need to be addressed receiving attention? Are decisions adequate for managing issues other than recreation?

First, with regard to plan specificity, we found that each plan contained decisions that were specific and some that were generic, or policy that could be applied anywhere. On the whole, however, the plans included relatively few site-specific wilderness management decisions, ranging generally from less than half to only about a quarter of the decisions in the plan. The majority of decisions were either generic or policy statements or were decisions to complete future planning of some specific kind or to obtain additional data. This was true more or less equally of both USFS Forest Plan prescriptions applying to wilderness and BLM wilderness management plans. The ongoing BLM Arizona planning efforts are making a concerted effort to be more specific and appear to be succeeding in the most recent draft materials.

The answers to these questions appear to be open to debate. While the Little Frog and SelwayBitterroot plans dealt specifically with fire management decisions, and a draft Wabayuma/Mount Tipton BLM plan dealt specifically with inholding acquisition procedures and other needed realty decisions, it appears safe to generalize that most plans include few specific management decisions for issues other than recreation. Perhaps of greatest concern is the number of plans reviewed that simply deferred decisions to other specific management issue plans such as allotment management plans for grazing, habitat management plans for wildlife, and fire management plans. These plans are often to be completed later, on varying schedules, and deal with boundaries that overlap wilderness boundaries. While it is conceivable that these plans could be adequately coordinated with the wilderness management plans and each other, it seems far more logical and efficient to make the needed management decisions at one time for one plan. While there may be some threat of overwhelming the process with too many issues, use of good project management principles and an interdisciplinary team should allow for completion of more comprehensive plans.

However , to the extent that recreation is a significant component of the management situation, the plans with concurrent or subsequent LAC-type analyses have y y specific decisions dealing with recreational use, ranging from limits of numbers to party-size restrictions to campsite and trail restoration standards.

For some areas included in the current BLM planning efforts underway in Arizona, recreational use is as low as 500 visitors per year. Even these plans contain some specific recreation management decisions. In eastern USFS wilderness areas, such as Little Frog, a detailed LAC approach provides specific guidance for management of recreation, which is the major use in many of these areas. In BLM plans for high use 101


specific management decisions that deal with recreation use. The LAC process has contributed significantly to this effort. Recreation has been a focal point in most plans to date because it has been an issue needing immediate decisions to avoid serious and imminent impacts.

If there is a serious flaw in how wilderness management plans currently are written, it may be in the treatment of vegetation, not just in campsites or on trails relative to recreation impacts, but on a wilderness-wide basis . Plans deal specifically with vegetation in a few recreation-impacted sites, but do not comprehensively address vegetation objectives as affected by hundreds of cows, thousands of sheep, or wildlife, except perhaps in separate plans. There may be vegetation objectives related to range condition in one plan, to wildlife habitat in a second, and to fire management in a third. Even in eastern forest wilderness that is not grazed, there are deer, non-native plants, and sometimes acid rain impacts that are changing the vegetative make-up of the wilderness. Should management decisions attempt to reach a comprehensive vegetation objective?

2. Managers are spending a great deal of time and effort evaluating and making decisions on recreation impacts to vegetation, soil, or water in relatively small areas along trails and in campsites, but are devoting far less effort to impacts on those resources throughout the entire wilderness area. Impacts from livestock, wildlife, fire, non-native species, and acid rain are being addressed randomly, if at all. It appears that this situation would lend itself readily to an LAC approach. The BLM New Mexico is attempting such an approach, subsequent to the El Malpais Plan. The opportunity exists to substantially contribute to the state of the art of wilderness planning through such an effort. If anyone is aware of other such efforts, we would appreciate a reference or contact.

A BLM plan underway for the Peloncillo Mountains in Arizona is attempting to implement specific vegetation objectives for each identified ecological site, considering grazing, wildlife, and fire.^In New Mexico, the BLM El Malpais National Conservation Area Management Plan, completed in 1991, contains some specific management actions to identify and maintain desired plant communities and to subsequently monitor the communities using an LAC-type approach. Although this process is to be completed subsequent to the management plan, it is intended to be interdisciplinary in nature and to involve affected publics.^As such, it represents the most ambitious attempt to address this issue coniprehensively that we have identified to date.

3. Plans may need to include or incorporate more decisions relative to influences outside the boundary of a wilderness area. This is not only logical from the standpoint of good planning, but it is consistent with the concepts of ecosystem management currently receiving a great deal of emphasis in both the BLM and USFS. Without attempting to define the role of ecosystem management, we can cite some brief examples that demonstrate the need for management planning to consider activities outside wilderness boundaries. Of course, the

CONCLUSIONS Based on this review of a number of recently completed or in-process management plans, as well as on discussions with a number of knowledgeable agency personnel from both the BLM and USFS, we believe it is possible to make some general conclusions about the state of the art of wilderness management planning: 1. Management planning has focused much attention, energy, and analysis on recreation use. Consequently, agency personnel are making 102


10,000 spectators. Planning for the Olympic events has carefully considered wilderness issues. The Forest Plan for the Cherokee National Forest, in which the Little Frog lies, was written years prior to a decision to hold the Olympic events on the Ocoee. A proposed amendment to the Forest Plan and an LAC plan have been developed to manage potential impacts. Such outside factors cannot be addressed in a management plan that stops at the boundaries. The case of the Little Frog also illustrates the need for dynamic management plans that can be supplemented or amended as conditions warrant. Additionally, looking outside the boundary requires greater coordination with other land management agencies, public interest groups, and greater internal communication with other agency jurisdictions.

mere mention of this will raise the specter of the evil buffer zone concept with the so-called wise-use types. Nevertheless, consideration of actions outside boundaries is necessary and need not result in any form of a de facto wilderness buffer In the BLM Black Ridge Wilderness

Study Area (WSA) near Grand Junction, Colorado, a rugged jeep road leads to an access road that ends one mile from a series of a dozen arches. Current management planning for the area is considering an alternative that would improve access to the arches for two-wheeldrive vehicles. Clearly, these decisions have significant implications for management of the arches, which are within the WSA boundary. The El Malpais is a good example of a somewhat larger scale plan because it dealt with a National Conservation Area that included but went well beyond the boundaries of two wilderness areas. Arctic wilderness areas in Norway or Alaska may have reindeer or caribou herd management issues that clearly extend far beyond the boundaries of any designated wilderness area.

4. The realization that planning is a critical element of wilderness man agement is apparent in both the BLM and USFS. The BLM has a week-long course devoted specifically to wilderness management planning, sponsored by its Phoenix (Arizona) Training Center. A companion manual will be written this coming year as the course is revised. The Wilderness Management Correspondence Course, sponsored jointly by the four federal wilderness managing agencies and offered under the auspices of Colorado State University, has an entire module devoted to wilderness management planning. The recently dedicated Arthur Carhart National Wilderness Training Center and the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute are interagency centers recently dedicated to better management and protection of the NWPS.

Another interesting example con cerns the Little Frog Wilderness. The site for the canoe and kayak white-water slalom events of the 1996 Olympics is the Ocoee River, only 150 yards from the wilderness boundary at its closest point. The events are expected to draw 15,000 spectators and 1,500 athletes, officials, and media representatives over a three-day weekend in late July. A sanctioned Pre-Olympics will take place that same weekend the previous year and could attract 103


Relative to wilderness management planning, perhaps most significant of all is that the federal management agencies have begun work on an interagency wilderness management planning course that can be offered to personnel from any agency or a combination of agencies at a variety of locations. This has the potential for resulting in quantum leaps in the state of the art.

Nash, R. 1978. Wilderness management: A contradiction in terms. Moscow: University of Idaho, Wilderness Research Center. Reed, P., G. Haas, F. Beum, and L. Sherrick. 1989. Non-recreational uses of the National Wilderness Preservation System: A 1988 telephone survey. In: Wilderness Benchmark 1988: Proceedings ofthe National Wilderness Colloquium (Tampa), comp., H. Freilich. Asheville, N.C.: USFS, Southeastern Forest Experiment Station.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The authors wish to thank the following individuals for their contributions to this paper: Ken Mahoney and Jeff Jarvis of the BLM; and Larry Phillips, John Romanowski, Paul Wright, Lee Carr, and Mike Bowker of the USFS. REFERENCES Beum, F. 1989. Case-study reviews of national forest wilderness management. In: Proceedings of the conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed., D. Lime. St Paul: University of Minnesota. Hendee, J., G. Stankey, and R. Lucas. 1990. Wilderness management, revised second edition. Ft Collins, Colo.: International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation. Kelly, J. 1989. Compatible and incompatible interactions between recreational and nonrecreational use of wilderness. In: Wilderness Benchmark 1988: Proceedings oftheNational Wilderness Colloquium (Tampa), H. Freilich, comp. Asheville, N.C.: USFS, Southeastern Forest Experiment Station. Krumpe, E., and G. Stokes. 1993. Application of the Limits of Acceptable Change planning process in USDA Forest Service wilderness management. In: Proceedings of Symposium on Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research--5th World Wilderness Congress (Tromso, Norway).

Stankey, G., D. Cole, R. Lucas, M. Petersen, and S. Frissell. 1985. The Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) System for wilderness planning. Ogden, Ut.: USFS, Intermountain Forest and Range Experiment Station. Thompson, F., L. Reesman, S. Hodapp, and A. Berger. Concepts and techniques ofwilderness management planning within the National Wilderness Preservation System. In: Proceedings of the conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed., D. Lime. St Paul: University of Minnesota. Vento, B. 1990. A wilderness revolution for the 1990s. In: Proceedings ofthe conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed., D. Lime. St Paul: University of Minnesota. AUTHORS Eric Finstick Colorado State Office USDI Bureau of Land Management Lakewood, CO 80125 Claire Payne Southeastern Forest Experiment Station USDA Forest Service Athens, GA 30602-2044 Mark Young Travel and Recreation Consultants Missoula, MT 59806 104


THE ROLE OF WILDERNESS IN MAINTAINING BIOLOGICAL DIVERSITY JOHN DENNIS

Lands and waters are managed as wilderness to achieve a variety of purposes. Although foremost among these is prevention of permanent signs of human presence, another major purpose is perpetuation of natural conditions both for themselves and for their scientific value. One component of natural conditions is biological diversity. In this paper, I examine some of the challenges, opportunities, and management strategies that wilderness faces in meeting its role of perpetuating biological diversity.

• natural entities are all of the physical, chemical, and biological components that could be expected to occur within a landscape in the absence of disruption by human application of technology; and natural processes are all of the interactions among these entities, including evolution of new species and communities and extinction of existing species and communities that could be expected to occur in the absence of human disruption; and

DEFINITIONS The ability of humans to manage wilderness to maintain biological diversity depends on the adoption and operational use by a large diversity of land managers of common understandings for the key concepts of wilderness, biological diversity, landscape, natural entities and processes, and sustainability. Drawing on discussions presented in Anderson (1992), Anonymous (1991), Franklin (1993), Gotmark (1992), Kessler and others (1992), and Robinson (1993), I adopt the following definitions for these key concepts: • wilderness is a management condition characterized by the absence ofpermanent signs of modem human activity; • biological diversity is the variety of life and its processes and includes genetic, species, community, and process elements; landscape is a sufficiently large area of land, water, and biological communities that functions with nearly complete internal ecological integrity and occurs as repeatable units within a larger biological region;

sustainability is the condition in which a landscape is able to produce the goods and services needed to support a local population of humans while at the same time perpetuating all elements of natural biological diversity. RELATIONSHIP OF DESIGNATED WILDERNESSES TO ADMINISTRATIVE LAND MANAGEMENT UNITS AND TO PARENT LANDSCAPES Although large, many areas managed as wilderness are smaller than the size of the administrative land management unit within which they occur. In turn, many land management units are smaller than the landscapes within which they occur. As a result, most wildernesses are not complete landscapes and do not contain complete ecological integrity. They may be limited to only the upslope or down-slope portions of a landscape. They may overlap portions of two different landscapes. They often contain only portions of the total biological diversity characteristic of their parent landscapes. They frequently are adjoined by land management units experiencing human

105


land use practices that are strongly disjunct from the practices that wildernesses experience.

EXTERNAL FACTORS THAT INFLUENCE THE BIOLOGY OF WILDERNESSES Because of the situational condition of wildernesses, their elements of biological diversity often reflect the results of influences that originate outside the wilderness. Some of these influences may be localized in their effects. Sharp discontinuities of land cover across the boundary from non-wilderness to wilderness may cause localized loss of forest or of prey species. Influx of polluted water into wilderness streams from outside the wilderness may result in loss of aquatic plants, invertebrates, or vertebrates for some stream distance into the wilderness. Human extinguishing of naturally ignited fire on lands outside wilderness may prevent movement into the wilderness of the natural process of fire, with a resulting loss of the necessary periodic, fireinduced disturbance of habitat needed by some plant and animal species for their long-term perpetuation in the landscape. Human conversion to other uses of lands and waters once used for seasonal habitats by migratory species that are outside wilderness may render the wilderness incapable of supporting viable populations of those migratory species. Other influences on biological diversity may be exerted throughout the wilderness. Air borne pollutants may be deposited anywhere within the wilderness and may reduce survival potential for some species or for selected gene pools of those species either through direct mortality or indirectly through reducing the capability of the species to withstand other mortality factors such as drought, disrupted soil nutrient availability, disease, or predation. Introduction into the landscape of exotic species may lead to loss from the wilderness of affected native species or to significant changes in composition or ecological processes characteristic of the native biotic communities of the wilderness. Human-induced regional or global climate change may diminish the capability of a wilderness to perpetuate all elements of biological diversity that are native to

the wilderness. Human restoration of humanextirpated native species may reverse past trends of species and process degradation for some or all communities characteristic of the wilderness.

POTENTIAL CONTRIBUTION OF WILDERNESS TO LANDSCAPE BIOLOGICAL DIVERSITY Because of its relatively undisturbed condition, wilderness can play a significant role in helping landscape management to become sustainable. Even though only a component of the complete landscape, wilderness can provide representative examples of many to most of the gene pools, species, communities, processes, and evolutionary pathways characteristic of the landscape. The probable long-term viability of many of these elements within the wilderness area provides guidance to the managers of other types of management units in the landscape regarding which elements of biological diversity found within their areas of responsibility warrant special concern and management programs. The wilderness can be a source ofpropagules for managers seekingto restore missing species elsewhere in the landscape. The wilderness also can be a place for community- and process-level research on the natural conditions of biological diversity to provide information of value to those managers as they seek to manage for sustained production of goods and services. In addition, information from, and human visits to, the wilderness can be used to educate the people who live within the landscape about the contributions of wilderness to supporting sustainable use of the landscape.

MANAGING WILDERNESS TO BE A CONTRIBUTOR TO LANDSCAPE BIOLOGICAL DIVERSITY While wilderness clearly has the potential to support sustainability, its purpose creates limitations. It often represents only a portion of the landscape diversity and its information potential, therefore, does not directly support decisionmaking in all compartments of the landscape. Its limited accessibility makes more difficult its use as a source of information or propagules. Necessary limitations on the management choices avail106


able to the wilderness manager and the concomitant narrow management goals characteristic of wilderness make it more difficult for wilderness managers to be active partners in cooperative, landscape-scale manipulative land use practices designed to achieve landscape-scale sustainable management goals. These limitations, in many cases, can be overcome when the managers of the many different land management systems within a landscape agree to work together (Brussard eta!., 1992). The first step in such cooperation is to describe individual management goals for the purpose of identifying the overlapping commonalities within an otherwise diverse mix of purposes. The second step is to develop the common goals as the basis of a strategy for achieving a cooperative, landscapescale framework that is focused on achieving sustainability for the landscape as a whole, but not necessarily for any individual management unit within the landscape. The third step is for all the land managers in the landscape to implement their individual programs, including their agreed actions to sustain their accepted shares of the total biological diversity of the landscape. The fourth step is for all managers to work together to develop and jointly conduct a long-term monitoring program within the entire landscape that will provide information to all participants regarding how well the cooperative landscape plan is achieving the common objectives. Designated and de facto wilderness areas within units of the U.S. National Park System provide many examples of how wilderness in fact contributes to maintaining biological diversity within landscapes or even larger regions. Specific examples of native species, exotic species, adjacent lands, statewide, binational, and international cooperative programs are described below. Native Species Yellowstone National Park for many years served as a source of propagules of elk and bison for many management areas throughout much of North America. More recently, wildlife and land managers in the larger landscape containing

Yellowstone National Park discovered a shared goal of perpetuating the threatened grizzly bear within the landscape and brought together three state and three federal agencies to devise a common landscape-scale strategy within which each would fit its individual management programs. An early product of this strategy was formation of an interagency research team that over the years has evolved into a long-term monitoring and research program that helps the managers assess their progress in achieving their common goal of recovering the bear within the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem (Salwasser et al., 1987). Great Smoky Mountains National Park entered a cooperative program with the USDI Fish and Wildlife Service to restore the endangered red wolf to the park. As part of this effort, the cooperators brought in the multi-organizational Southern Appalachians Man and the Biosphere Cooperative to develop and disseminate information about the program to improve public awareness and understanding of the program and its goals. Exotic Species Nearly two decades ago, Grand Canyon National Park announced plans to remove the exotic burro from the park for the purpose of protecting native plants and animals and restoring natural ecological processes. The announcement aroused heated nationwide public debate that stalled the planned program in its tracks. As a result of public involvement in the planning process, the park identified an option of live removal as a possible management option (NPS, 1980). In response to this opportunity, a national animal welfare organization that accepted the need to have the burros removed offered to finance and conduct a live removal program rather than to see the burros killed on-site. In this case, two different organizations found a common purpose centered on the burros and became cooperators to achieve their otherwise disparate goals. Adjacent Lands At Saguaro National Monument, faced with the loss of park resources near the boundary due to 107


advancing suburban development, the park reached out to the adjacent urban community to seek cooperation in preventing this loss, which included elements of biological diversity. In this case, the park sponsored research to assess the effect of domestic pets (exotic species) on native animals in the park and used the resulting information to inform local land use commissions and private lands developers of the value to the park and hence to local human residents of regulating and designing developments to reduce their impacts on the park resources. At the long, narrow Fire Island National Seashore, a barrier island at the edge of New York City that contains both a small wilderness and residential inholdings, park managers were challenged with public health concerns regarding mosquito borne equine encephalitis. In this case, the park viewed the mosquito as a native element of biological diversity, and residents of nearby communities considered it a nuisance and possibly a health risk. To respond to the challenge, the park managers sponsored research on the natural range of the park mosquito population and devised a park procedure for monitoring for the presence of the disease virus. Drawing on this and other information, park managers worked together with county, state, and federal officials to identify their common management goals and purposes. Based on that commonality, they developed an acceptable mechanism for cooperatively managing the public concern in a manner that sustains the park's mosquitoes and their natural habitats and also can respond to the rare outbreaks of the virus in the human community. Statewide In recent years, the State of California has embarked on a statewide plan to sustain the native biological diversity of the state. A key element of this plan is to organize cooperative public and private efforts according to bio-regions based on commonalities of elements of biological diversity. Three national parks (Kings Canyon, Sequoia, and Yosemite) have joined with other land managers of the central and southern Sierra Ne-

vada bio-region to initiate development of biological diversity information about their bioregion, identify commonalities among their disparate management goals, and, ultimately in the future, adopt complementary management programs that will seek to ensure the sustainability of the biological diversity of the bio-region (Anonymous, 1992). Binational

More recently, responding to monitoring data obtained in part in an urban, non-wilderness unit of the National Park System, many governmental and non-governmental organizations in the United States and other Western Hemisphere nations have initiated cooperative efforts to prevent current trends of decline in populations of many species of birds that migrate twice annually between North America and Central America, South America, and the Caribbean region. This Partners in Flight program is bringing together a binationally coordinated effort of long-term monitoring, research, land and species population management, and education. Partners in Flight is coordinating this effort among many organizations with differing management purposes and in land management systems ranging from wilderness to agricultural for the commonly shared purpose of sustaining these migratory bird populations and their habitats (Finch and Stangel, 1993). International

In the late 1970s, scientists and resource managers in several organizations in the United States and Mexico initiated a long-term, interagency, and international project focused on the commonly held goal of recovering the endangered Kemp's ridley turtle. This experimental management project involved the relocation of turtle eggs from Mexican territory to Padre Island National Seashore in the United States, artificially rearing the hatchlings for almost a year, and then releasing the young turtles into the wild in the hope that, once they reached adulthood, the surviving turtles would return to nest in the park-protected hatching site in the United States (Shaver, 1990). 108


CONCLUSIONS Human-induced environmental change now is felt throughout the globe and has the potential to diminish biological diversity, even within wilderness. Wilderness by itself can sustain some biological diversity regardless of events on adjacent lands. Wilderness managed in partnership with management of the other land management units in the landscape containing the wilderness can play a much larger role in sustaining biological diversity. For this partnership to achieve sustainable use of the landscape, the managers of the land management units must know their individual management goals, must cooperate in finding the common centers of interest among their diverse management goals, must agree on some overlapping landscape-scale management goals, and must be willing to adjust their individual goals in partnership with each other to ensure the achievement of the broader landscape goals. Identifying and meeting these goals requires close cooperation in landscape planning, inventorying the elements of biological diversity found within the entire landscape, developing and instituting long-term monitoring and research programs, managing data to be available to all partners, conducting resource management programs, and continuing education for both land managers and residents of the landscape.

REFERENCES Anderson, J. 1992. Reply to Gotmark. Conserv. Biol. 6:459-60. Anonymous. 1991. Final consensus report of the Keystone policy dialogue on biological diversity on federal lands. Keystone, Colo.: The Keystone Center.

Finch, D., and P. Stangel, eds. 1993. Status and management of Neotropical migratory birds. Proceedings of workshop (Estes Park). General Technical Report RM-229. Ft Collins, Colo.: USFS, Rocky Mountain Forest and Range Experiment Station. Franklin, J. 1993. Preserving biodiversity: Species, ecosystems, or landscapes? Ecol. Applic. 3:202-5. Gotmark, F. 1992. Naturalness as an evaluation criterion in nature conservation: A response to Anderson. Conserv. Biol. 6:455-58. Kessler, W., H. Salwasser, C. Cartwright, Jr, and J. Caplan. 1992. New perspectives for sustainable natural resources management. Ecol. Applic. 2:221-25. USDI National Park Service. 1980. Proposed feral burro management and ecosystem restoration plan and final environmental statement. INT FES 80-7. Grand Canyon National Park. Robinson, J. 1993. The limits to caring: Sustainable living and the loss ofbiodiversity. Conserv. Biol. 7:20-8. Salwasser, H., C. Schonewald-Cox, and R. Baker. 1987. The role of interagency cooperation in managing for viable populations. In: Viable populations for conservation, M. Soule, ed. Cambridge, Mass.: Cambridge University Press. Shaver, D. 1990. Kemp's ridley project at Padre Island enters a new phase. Park Science. 10(1):12-3.

. 1992. Sierra summit conference takes AUTHOR region's pulse. Park Science. 12(2):23. John Dennis Brussard, P., D. Murphy, and R. Noss. 1992. Wildlife and Vegetation Division Strategy and tactics for conserving biological USDI National Park Service diversity in the United States. Conserv. Biol. P.O. Box 37127 6:157-59. Washington, DC 20013-7127


INTEGRATING MANAGEMENT OF ECOLOGICAL AND CULTURAL DIVERSITY IN WILDERNESS BILL OVERBAUGH ANGELA WEST BERGER

INTRODUCTION Management of ecological diversity and maintenance of cultural diversity are inseparable. Critical to the future of wildland management is the need to integrate the concepts of managing a cultural landscape with that of an ecological landscape. The rights of indigenous people to use ancestral wilderness for sustainable resource use and spiritual rituals is now an integral part of the international movement to conserve wilderness values (Martin, 1991). It must be recognized that wilderness is a cultural reflection closely tied to cultural differences in the concepts of landownership and stewardship. For the purposes of this paper, the term indigenous people means one of the geographically, culturally, and linguistically distinct groups that still live in the land of their ancestors. These ancestral lands are frequently isolated, ecologically fragile, wild places that invariably find their way into consideration for possible wilderness designation or other protective status. A cultural landscape implies an area used by indigenous populations in ways that define and perpetuate their cultures and traditions; an area they access for traditional, cultural, and religious purposes. Indigenous people are the guardian of the extensive and fragile ecosystems that are vital to the well being of the planet (Strong, 1992). Generally, native traditions exemplify land-use practices that sustain ecological resources. They show an intelligent respect for the natural world upon which we all depend. Throughout historical time, they understood the environmental effects of traditional technology and carefully regulated its use. Relationships to nature were intimate, reciprocal, balanced, and tended to preserve ecological diversity. Tribal wisdom and awareness

could contribute greatly to the understanding and development of a contemporary ecological management approach (Lang, 1992). CULTURAL DIVERSITY Many of our remaining indigenous human populations are in danger of becoming culturally extinct. Modern-day encroachment into ancestral lands is disrupting the continuity of landscape symbology, causing native people a loss of connection to their surroundings. They are often forced into a strange way of life where values and lifestyle contrast greatly with their own. Herding and other subsistence economics are replaced by cash economics. Native tribes that have managed to survive epochal events such as conquests, colonization, and reservations with their language, lifestyles, and traditions intact are continuously threatened with extinction by modem civilization (Stankey, 1993). One day soon we may come to value cultural diversity as we have come to value species diversity. Much like the ecological linkage that green corridors provide to wilderness and protected areas, so can cultural diversity provide a unique sense of connection. These much-needed cultural corridors are equally essential to the long-term survival of modern wilderness. A mosaic of cultural responses to the challenge of managing wilderness and protected areas may complicate more standardized approaches, but it will also enrich tremendously the options available to contemporary managers. CULTURAL LANDSCAPES Examples of how ancient cultural landscapes are being sustained while preserving ecological landscapes have been highlighted as a result of many 110


worldwide wilderness designations. Experience in South America and Africa has proven that wilderness protection does not necessarily conflict with recognition of the role of indigenous populations and does in fact consider native peoples as an integral part of the ecosystem by allowing them to practice traditional subsistence lifestyles. To ignore the human element and perspective in land use and historical differences is to jeopardize the likelihood of achieving objectives that underlie the motives for wilderness protection (Stankey, 1993).

break-down of ancient cultures, but has denied modern land use managers from accessing valuable, if not critical, data relevant to wilderness. Over years of social integration, the Navajo, Hopi, and Pueblo peoples of the American southwest have fought to maintain traditional lifestyles. Through the waves of conquests by the Spaniards, Mexicans, and Euro-Americans for the past 500 years, some Native American Indians have kept intact their religious and spiritual worlds; although some lifestyle changes have occurred as a result of economic and education needs. Most have accepted changes in the modem world while clinging to their religious beliefs.

According to the Navajo of the American southwest, a cultural landscape is one in which native people, living off the land, developed a spirited understanding based on the need to co-exist with the land and with nature. It is something to be respected, and, if one behaves as one should, it is something that will take care of you. It is hard to conceive of different laws and standards for religion, for economics, and for the environment. We see them all as part of a whole (Bitsuie and Nez, 1993).

The concept of a landscape and its cultural value is multi-layered. Some areas are public space. Others are for individual community use or only for an individual family. Still other areas range from private, individual areas to extremely private areas. This construct cannot be overturned by a written plan. Because paper can be changed by anybody, written wilderness plans can be changed by anybody. Therefore, little incentive to trust or commitment to a written plan exists. In contrast, the spoken word, presented before the community, is heard by all. It becomes a part ofthe community memory and can carry significant weight.

A prominent Western myth generally accepted by the public indicates that wilderness consists of "areas void of human history and representative of nature before human contact" (Kaus, 1993). An alternative perception, and one that is gaining a strong foothold in wilderness planning doctrine, is that "every biogeographical province in the world has been inhabited, modified, or managed by human groups in the present or the past" (Kaus, 1993). Therefore, wildland planning needs to strive to integrate ecological goals with cultural heritage and indigenous rights. Although this premise is accepted with more enthusiasm than in the past, current wilderness planning processes need to move even further in this direction.

The Navajo of the American southwest say: "Practice what you preach, and preach what you practice." In their mind, writing plans down "short circuits" this important circle of oral tradition. Without practice, this cultural premise, this knowledge, is lost. Agencies readily assume that if there is no written document, there is no existing plan or precedent. Agencies and planning processes do not enter into a vacuum, inferring no knowledge existed before. Generally, there is a whole system of traditional natural resource management in place.

"Descendants of ancient civilizations are considered cultural remnants, just as wilderness is seen as a fragment of nature in its original form" (Kaus, 1993). Indigenous populations are "ultimately considered quaint, unsophisticated, and inappropriate for the complexity of wilderness stewardship ..." (Kaus, 1993). This attitude has resulted in not only the repression and often

Land is the basis for the ability of Native Americans to maintain their identity and well-being. Planning for a cultural landscape will reinforce this sense of tribal identity, thus positioning Native Americans to contribute to a vibrant and diverse American society (Bitsuie and Nez, 1993). 111


ECOLOGICAL LANDSCAPES

morality pure savage. They, like all current societies, are struggling with a myriad of environmental problems, including overgrazing, soil erosion, and illegal dumping.

Today, management of ecological landscapes is being accomplished by the application of spaceage technologies or sciences such as satellite imagery, geographical information systems, and global positioning systems. As exciting and useful as these technologies are, sole reliance on them may be too narrow.

Wise stewardship by all parties should include using not only modern technology but traditional technology to help restore ecosystems damaged by earlier misuse. Combined, these technologies are effective planning tools that can be used to bridge the gap between contemporary societal expectations and those of older cultures. Together, these technologies could allow for a largescale bio-regional approach to management of ecological and cultural landscapes.

It may be worth challenging the Western concept of'science" and how it applies to management of wilderness and protected landscapes. Many indigenous populations would assert that they too have a science--one as valid and reliable as Western deductive reasoning, although based on a different paradigm. "They have science, in the sense of systematically organized bodies of empirical knowledge about the natural world that can incorporate the results of experimentation. The inference may be drawn that something like science is the inevitable result of human beings observing and talking about nature ... " (Norstag, 1992).

CONNECTION OF CULTURAL AND ECOLOGICAL CONCEPTS

Cultural concepts of space and time as they affect the perception of wildlands and its values strengthen the understanding of the interplay between management of a cultural landscape and an ecological landscape. Interdependence of living organisms and related environmental, traditional practices for sustaining natural resources are often exemplified by the practices of indigenous populations. Thompson (1993) cites options available within the planning process:

A distinct process of prescribed burns, wildlife identification and classification, soil typing, and erosion management are all parts of traditional knowledge in a traditional science that have been recorded by anthropologists for many indigenous populations. Their "science" is imbedded in ritual that is carefully structured, directed, and monitored by experts within that specific culture. "The principles of environmental protection are embedded in the rituals and myths that govern their relationship to the land. In many cases, mythic perceptions and virtual behavior are based on local, long-term experience in a specific environment and may be more pertinent..." (Kaus, 1993). Says Navajo medicine man and nuclear physicist, Fred Begay (1993):

• Build indigenous populations' input into not only the planning, but the implementation phase of wilderness planning. Written plans need to be reinforced in the Oral Tradition. The spoken word results in a community memory and, therefore, a commitment to the objective of the plan. Oral agreements may hold more weight than written ones. Written plans cannot be allowed to entirely supplant the rich fabric of oral traditions.

Navajo religion and medicine is strongly based on nature .... What we call religion, you call science. But, whereas modern science is sort of impersonal, ours is spiritual.

• Accept that different cultures may agree to the same conservation measure based on entirely different paths of logic.

This paper does not attempt to portray indigenous populations as the ignoble, ecologically, and 112


Those decisions are often made only a few days in advance of a religious observance.

Currently, planning for wilderness presents an institutional problem, even when consulted native populations are frequently ignored. Some Western attitudes inherent in the planning process contribute to this, as one Navajo administrator describes: "We are consulted, but no one takes our advice."

The past present dichotomy too often presents a beautiful, romanticized past and a blighted, dismal, problem-plagued present (and future) for American Indian communities and should be replaced by a more realistic view of modern native cultures as dynamic.

Many Native American religions require that certain knowledge be kept secret. Sometimes within a particular community, certain groups or clans possess knowledge that they are not allowed to disclose even to others of the same community. Thus, no single community member has the knowledge or authority to disclose information for all members of the community.

Interpretation should include the fact that vast areas beyond existing reservation boundaries--even though those areas no longer are controlled by modern native communities--are still of great significance in the religious beliefs, pilgrimages, and practices of modern American Indians. Destruction or description of religious locations outside reservation boundaries diminishes the ability of modern American Indians to continue vital religious practices.

• Information gained in one context is often misused in another context. We often operate on different definitions of the same construct.

• New laws requiring the involvement of Native Americans in decisions^CONCLUSION about cultural resource management are putting a major burden on The wilderness planning process offers substancommunities that lack the governtial opportunity to more fully integrate ecological mental structure to respond to landscapes with its inherent cultural landscape. requests for information. Thirty-, There is great fascination in contrasting what is sixty-, and ninety-day deadlines are perceived as the great extremes, ancient verses often impossible to meet. modem, yin and yang. Yet, when such a study is completed, it ultimately reaches the conclusion Pressure by pro-tourism interests on that all creation is connected, and boundaries are tribal governments to pinpoint the artificial, at best. These linkages lead to the dates of public ceremonial events is inevitable conclusion that there is a need for all counter-productive. Decisions on the individual pieces in order to sustain the whole. ceremonies are made by religious authorities and are not subject to tribal governments. Whether or not a religious event is open or closed is likewise not the responsibility of tribal governments but of religious leaders or sponsoring families.

There is great connectedness to diversity and the unity of life, be it ecological or cultural. This paper may provide an intriguing reminder of how great extremes are really part of the same continuum. 113


REFERENCES^

AUTHORS

Begay, F. 1993. Personal communication.

Bill Overbaugh New Mexico State Office USDI Bureau of Land Management Santa Fe, NM 87505

Bitsuie, R., and L. Nez. 1993. The role of natural resources for Native Americans: Now and in the future. From speech given at Princeton alumni meeting (Santa Fe, NM). Kaus, A. 1993. Managing wilderness, cultural resources, and cultural diversity: Wilderness through the eyes ofthe beholder. In: Handbook for a Renaissance in wilderness stewardship, comps., A. Schmierer and C. Butler.

Angela West Berger Wildlands and Conservation Services Dames and Moore Albuquerque, NM 87110

Lang, J. 1993. The vanishing species of the southwest. Contract proposal submitted by the Learning Technology Center and Texas Memorial Museum, University of Texas (Austin). Martin, V. 1991. International wilderness issues, progress, and concerns. In: Proceedings of the conference on the Economic Value of Wilderness (Jackson, Wyo.), comps., C. Payne, J. Bowker, and P. Reed. Norstag, J. 1992. Indigenous and folk ways of ecosystem management: The implications for sustainable development. Paper presented at the III International Conference on Ethnobiology (Mexico City). Stankey, G. 1993. Wilderness around the world. Journal of Forestry. 91:33-6. Strong, M. 1992. Gaia atlas of First People calendar. Thompson, I. 1993. Report to the Four Corners Heritage Council (Window Rock, Ariz.).

114


SUBSISTENCE IN ALASKA WILDERNESS BRUCE VAN ZEE HENRY MAKARKA FRED CLARK PATRICK REED LOIS SHERRICK ZIEMANN ABSTRACT

subsistence, commercial, and sport uses were infrequent and were confined to a comparatively few areas. The protection of renewable resources was not a major issue in Alaska, and only embryonic elsewhere in the nation.

The subsistence use of renewable natural resources in the wildlands and waters of Alaska is the historical foundation of the physical and cultural existence of Alaska natives. Federal legislation and land stewardship combines with Alaska state regulation of wildlife and fish as a continuous direct affect on the pursuit of a subsistence lifestyle by Alaska natives. The 1964 Wilderness Act, and the designation of approximately 23 million hectares (56 million acres) of Alaska as wilderness by the 1980 Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA) have not definitively ensured that subsistence resources will continue to be available to Alaska natives and other rural Alaskans. Instead, the preservation of traditional subsistence activities in Alaska's wilderness and wildlands has resulted more from general subsistence provisions in ANILCA and from the 1972 Marine Mammals Protection Act (MMPA) (P.L. 92-522). Nevertheless, these provisions for subsistence activities by native and rural Alaskans are a primary factor differentiating Alaska wilderness from wilderness elsewhere in the United States.

By the time the Wilderness Act (P.L. 88-577) passed in 1964, Alaska was beginning to experience a surge in population growth, fueled by the influx of petroleum-related industry workers and their families from the lower 48 states. Throughout this period, Alaska retained, and even enhanced, its image as the last frontier and haven for the independent and entrepreneurial-minded (Haycox, 1991). Although Congressional designation of wilderness was well underway in the lower 48 states, large scale wilderness designation in Alaska was still years away. By the 1970s, controversy was brewing over contemporary subsistence and land ownership issues. Congress attempted to resolve these issues bypassing the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) (P.L. 92-203) in 1971. Still, independent, political, and economic development interests continued to plague true implementation of subsistence rights. After nearly a decade of national debate, Congress passed the ANILCA (P.L. 96-487) in 1980. Along with sweeping changes in federal land ownership and administration throughout Alaska, the ANILCA once again addressed subsistence, ensuring the continuance of subsistence activities for all rural Alaskans--native and non-native alike. The ANILCA also designated approximately 23 million hectares (56 million acres) of federal land as wilderness, thereby generally prohibiting activities such as logging, mining, oil and gas development, permanent structures, and widespread motorized access. It appeared that there was some substantive legislation supporting the con-

INTRODUCTION Over the past two centuries, exploitation and development of Alaska has often polarized the cultural interests of its indigenous peoples against the political and economic interests of Europe and the United States. One of the longest running conflicts has been over the subsistence use of fish and wildlife resources by Alaska natives. Prior to oil development and statehood in the late 1950s, the population of Alaska was relatively small. Fish and wildlife resources appeared infinite. In comparison to today, conflicts among 115


provide for one's family and to make it in a world in which they have chosen to live. Some see it in pure economics and the ability to save money, trade, or make and earn a living. Native people see it as the essence of their souls, the tapestry of their culture. It is how we communicate with one another, how we take care of each other, and how we set up relationships between clans or groups of different villages. It goes far beyond food. Native people in southeast [Alaska] may look, dress, talk, and have some semblance of living like the western culture, and in fact we have acculturated to a great degree, but there are basic principles not obvious to people outside the culture.

tinuance of traditional subsistence activities by Alaska natives. Today, however, misunderstanding continues about subsistence and the role of wilderness in protecting or preserving subsistence opportunities in Alaska. We contend that wilderness designation and management under provisions of the Wilderness Act alone--as it is traditionally interpreted--may not have been in the best interests of preserving Alaska native cultures as manifested through subsistence activities. In order to understand this and subsequent points, it is useful to first briefly examine the institutions of subsistence and wilderness. SUBSISTENCE For more than 11,000 years, the Indians, Aleuts, and Eskimos of Alaska have relied upon the region's rich lands, waters, and renewable resources as the foundation for their physical and social existence. The personal gathering and sharing of food and shelter in this way of life has met not only their day-to-day sustenance needs, but also serves to structure and perpetuate their sense of self-identification, customs, and culture. Further, it substitutes for contemporary notions of land ownership and market economic systems (Case, 1984).

A Western Perspective of Subsistence Prior to the development of Alaska in the 20th Century, subsistence was a viable, practical, and preferred way of life for Alaska natives. Nevertheless, it rapidly became increasingly incompatible with the thinking of contemporary Alaskan policy-makers for several reasons. First, traditional subsistence was perceived as an anachronism: an unfortunate, if not pitiable way of life; a primitive welfare system for the impoverished and uneducated; and as an inconceivable lifestyle of choice given the advantages of modern market systems (Lonner, 1984).

The perspective of Alaska natives towards a subsistence lifestyle has changed little over the centuries, although the majority of other Americans continue to misunderstand the nature and importance of this lifestyle.

Second, acknowledging the validity of a subsistence lifestyle necessitated according it privileges that seemed to discriminate against the growing number of non-native residents, many of whom were being courted and counted upon to develop Alaska and its economic foundation. In particular, it meant conceding ownership or access to lands that might otherwise be used for commerce through the production of mineral, timber, fish, recreation opportunities, and for commercial development. It also meant that non-native residents could be restricted in their historically inalienable right to hunt and fish in the state that correctly or incorrectly prided itself on individu-

A Native Perspective of Subsistence As Carol Jorgensen (1993), the Federal Subsistence Council Coordinator for southeast Alaska, and a Tlingit woman, explains the problem: People want to use the word subsistence, but that is such a narrow term and cannot begin to cover who we really are. Some people, who are nonnative and live in the rural area, see it as food on the table, the ability to 116


alism, self-reliance, and disdain for government regulation (Haycox, 1991).

This interconnectedness manifests itself in a variety of forms, but it runs as a common thread throughout their cultures. It is highly unlikely that there is a word in any of the native Alaskan languages that translates directly to the Wilderness Act definition of wilderness, even though these native cultures have forever been intimately interwoven with the natural environment. The concept--which implies preservation of a natural environment that existed prior to human influence--is illogical to people whose lives cannot theoretically or physically be separated from the land in which they have always lived (Ulvi, 1993).

According to Title VIII of the ANILCA, subsistence is legally defined as: ... the customary and traditional uses by rural Alaska residents of wild, renewable resources for direct personal or family consumption as food, shelter, fuel, clothing, tools, or transportation; for the making and selling of handicraft articles out of non-edible byproducts of fish and wildlife resources taken for personal or family consumption; for barter or sharing for personal or family consumption; and for customary trade.

A Western Perspective of Wilderness In 1964, the Wilderness Act [Sec. 2(a)] captured quite poetically what was at that time the current Euro-American philosophy of wilderness. The Act's intent is:

This definition may be an improvement over the past lack of comprehensive definition, but it still seems to have missed the essence ofthe meaning of subsistence for Alaska natives. It neglects to show that subsistence is a cultural imperative for many Alaska natives. Rather than an absence of culture, it is an alternative culture and one that best perpetuates Alaska native customs and traditions.

... to assure that an increasing population, accompanied by expanding settlement and growing mechanization, does not occupy and modify all areas within the United States and its possessions, leaving no lands designated for preservation and protection in their natural conditions.

WILDERNESS

A universal definition of wilderness does not exist. Perceptions of wilderness are a function of culture, and cultures are constantly changing. In the United States, like many other countries, wilderness is an evolving concept. Since the 17th Century, wilderness has been viewed in turn as an evil and alien barrier to the civilization of the frontier; a romantic and ethereal inspiration to art, literature, and philosophy; a scarce and diminishing resource in need of legal protection; and more currently, a reservoir of relatively unaltered ecosystems that can provide a multitude of biological and social benefits (Nash, 1982; and Freilich, 1989).

In the Act [Sec. 2(c)], wilderness: ... in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the Earth and community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. Wilderness is further defined in the Act [Sec. 2(c)] to mean:

... an area of undeveloped federal land retaining its primeval character and influence, without permanent improvements or human habitation, which is protected and managed so as to preserve its natural conditions and

A Native Perspective of Wilderness

The interconnectedness of the natural and human worlds is an integral part ofthe Alaska native life. 117


which (1) generally appears to have been affected primarily by the forces of nature, with the imprint of man's work substantially unnoticeable .. . At first glance, wilderness designation appears to be compatible with the preservation oftraditional subsistence activities in Alaska. Both incorporate an ideal of a continuum of natural processes over time. In actuality, however, the traditional interpretation of the Wilderness Act might hamper traditional subsistence activities in Alaska. The act places more emphasis on flora, fauna, ecological processes, and past human culture than on existing human culture that might be historically tied to the resources. Put another way, it suggests more emphasis on humans apart from pristine nature than on humans as a part of pristine nature. Traditional Alaskan native subsistence, on the other hand, literally makes the resources and humans inseparable in both time and space. Alaska natives feel a strong bond with wildland resources. Because they prefer to continue a direct relationship with nature, they believe it is not in their own best long-term interest to quickly use up or destroy fish and wildlife populations and habitat.

the perceived lock-up of wilderness, sport hunting and fishing opportunities, and commercial development), the ANILCA provides specific direction that traditional subsistence activities, using mechanical or motorized devices, may continue to occur in wilderness. Through the process of indigenization (the taking of outside ways and overlaying them onto traditional meaning structures), many Alaska natives had by 1980 incorporated snowmobiles, motorboats, and all-terrain vehicles in their subsistence taking of fish and wildlife. Without the special provisions in the ANILCA, these indigenized subsistence use practices might not have been allowed to continue in designated wilderness. While the ANILCA spoke to the terrestrial setting for subsistence and wilderness, the 1972 MMPA had previously addressed the subsistence taking of whales, walrus, seals, and sea otters along the coastal waters and estuarine areas of Alaska, including designated wilderness. Considering that marine mammals comprise about 15 percent of Alaska's statewide subsistence harvest by weight, this also has been an extremely significant piece of legislation (Wolfe and Bosworth, 1990). Accordingly, it is the ANILCA and MMPA provisions--more so than the Wilderness Act-that provide specific guarantees for traditional subsistence activities. These acts, more than anything else, distinguish wilderness in Alaska from the 15 million hectares (38 million acres) of wilderness in the rest of the nation.

The Wilderness Act could potentially have been unsympathetic to the exercise of subsistence activities--particularly if they should happen to involve the use of motorized or mechanical devices or permanent structures. If these activities could be demonstrated to have pre-dated the Wilderness Act, it is possible that they could have been allowed to continue. Further, if humans are not an accepted part of nature, then their use of fish and wildlife would not be considered a natu-

CONCLUSION The Alaskan native and western world views of subsistence have come into conflict primarily because the regulation of subsistence has reflected western cultural biases and has been implemented according to western mechanisms of law and science. This conflict is not likely to end in impasse. Subsistence management will continue to evolve as interactions between the two world views continue to increase in understanding. Both the regulators and the regulated have, in the end, a compatible goal: a desire to perpetuate the existence of the many wildlife and

ral condition.

SUBSISTENCE PROTECTION The passage of the ANILCA, like that of the Wilderness Act itself, was the result of many years of political dispute and compromise. Even though the provisions of the ANILCA affect only Alaska lands, the compromises made involved trade-offs between local and national interests. In order to help resolve issues unsettled by the ANCSA (and to placate non-native concerns over 118


fish species that are harvested under the rubric of subsistence. In addition, both wish to continue subsistence and subsistence lifestyles, although the underlying meanings may not be the same to each.

Haycox, S. 1991. History of Alaska and studies in Alaskan history. Anchorage: University of Alaska. Jorgensen, C. 1993. Electronic correspondence to F. Clark.

The history of subsistence and designated wilderness in Alaska gives us cause to re-think how the Wilderness Act traditionally has been interpreted. The role of indigenous cultures in wilderness is often viewed as a remnant of a static, historical footnote, just as wilderness itself is viewed as a remnant of our natural wealth. As we embrace the value of wilderness in providing naturally functioning ecosystems, we must also embrace the role of contemporary native cultures in that ecosystem. Like subsistence management, wilderness management is a reflection of an evolving interaction of changing cultures, at times a murky amalgamation of societal trends and regulations. In Alaska and elsewhere, the managers of both subsistence activities and wilderness would do well to learn from traditional human use of wilderness and the knowledge derived from a millennia of subsistence. As Ulvi (1993) concludes:

Loaner, T. 1984. Perceptions of subsistence and public policy formation in Alaska. Technical Paper 68. Anchorage: Alaska Department of Fish and Game. Nash, R. 1982. Wilderness and the American mind. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press. Ulvi, S. 1993. Subsistence uses and native Alaskan perceptions of wilderness. In: A. Schmierer, comp. Conference session handbook for a Renaissance in wilderness stewardship (Tucson, Arizona). San Francisco: USNPS. Wolfe, R. and R. Bosworth. 1990. Subsistence in Alaska: A summary. Juneau: Division of Subsistence, Alaska Department of Fish and Game.

True understanding of wildlands and the human condition are nowhere more tangible than in cultural traditions spawned of it. Perhaps allowing for the continuation of the rarest of natural relationships, the living expression of three million years of hunter-gatherer adaption in relatively unaltered landscapes, is the most precious purpose of all, and perhaps a saving grace, for these wilderness units in Alaska.

AUTHORS Bruce Van Zee Chugach National Forest USDA Forest Service Anchorage, AK 99503-3998 Henry Makarka Cordova, AK 99574 Fred Clark Patrick Reed Lois Sherrick Ziemann Chugach National Forest USDA Forest Service Anchorage, AK 99503-3998

REFERENCES Case, D. 1984. Alaskan natives and American laws. Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press. Freilich, H., comp. 1989. Wilderness benchmark 1988: Proceedings ofthe National Wilderness Colloquium. USFS General Technical Report SE-5 1.

M


THE QUETICO-SUPERIOR ECOSYSTEM: AN INTERNATIONAL WILDERNESS COMPLEX, FACING ISSUES OF NATIVE PEOPLE'S USE KEVIN PROESCHOLDT

The international Quetico-Superior Ecosystem in northwestern Ontario (Canada) and northeastern Minnesota (USA) contains a fabulous complex of wilderness lands of over 2.5 million acres (1 million hectares) in size, a wildland resource of immense value not only to both Canada and the United States but to the entire world. (See maps ) Conservationists in both countries have struggled to protect the regions' wilderness resources for most of this century. Their efforts have resulted in wilderness or park designations for many parts of the ecosystem But threats to the regions' wilderness characters continue to arise on both sides of the border One particular threat involves an Ontario government proposal involving a small community of native people living on a reserve within the northwestern Ontario region GENERAL DESCRIPTION The Quetico-Superior Ecosystem contains a variety of lands, some designated as wilderness or parks and other un-designated de facto wilderness lands surrounding the core designated lands. The region is a rugged one, with thin soils covering only portions of the glaciated granitic bedrock. The Quetico-Superior Ecosystem possesses thousands oflakes lying in basins carved from the Canadian Shield bedrock, interconnected by streams. rivers, and waterfalls The area features steep cliffs, plunging deep into lakes, roaring rapids, and peat bogs.

northern hardwoods such as red maple (Ater rubrum) and northern red oak (Quercus rubra). Although some logging has occurred within the designated wildernesses and parks in the past, the region still contains large blocks of virgin forest of post-fire origin. The region contains a rich biological diversity of wildlife and plant species. The Quetico-Superior Ecosystem provides the core habitat for the eastern timber wolf (Canis lupus lycaon), the ecosystem's main predator, enabling Minnesota to be the only state in the Lower 48 to harbor a significant wolf population. Other mammals found here include black bear (Ursus americanus), moose (A Ices alces), lynx (Lynx canadensis), beaver (Castor canadensis), fisher (Martes pennant:), and pine marten (Martes americana). A rich bird life also inhabits the Quetico-Superior area, including bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), osprey (Pandion haliaetus), boreal owl (Aegolius funereus), black-backed woodpecker (Picoides arcticus), and common loon (Gavia immer); as a sign of the rich biological diversity of the area, the ecosystem provides habitat for over 20 species of wood warblers (Parulidae) alone, each filling a specialized niche in the forest. The region also contains plants typical of the boreal forest and peat bogs, as well as plants typical of areas to the south. Some disjunct populations of arctic plant species are also found here, often on north-facing cliffs (Heinselman, 1973)

The forests of the region consist of a mixture of the southern boreal forest of jack pine (Pinus banksiana), black spruce (Picea mariana), paper birch (Betula papvrifera), and aspen (Popuhus sp.), as well as a components of the Great Lakes or St Lawrence forest type, typified by %+hite pine (Pinus strobus), red pine (Pinus resinosa), and

COMPONENTS The Quetico-Superior Ecosystem contains a number of key components that fit together in this international complex of wilderness lands. They include the following designated areas. 120


LAG LA CROIX^

F."

VOYAGEURS ^RESERVE NATIONAL^ PARK

CANADA

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LAVEIENDYE PROVIICLL PAII

7 /

/

/^

- - BOUNDARY WATERS B'C.A^ CANOE AREA

Th.d.r any 73 ML Grand

LAKIE SUPERIOR

vivilini^

42

1.

Quetico-Superior Ecosystem

-

I

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If

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-

121


Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness

LaVerendrye Provincial Park

The Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) Wilderness in Minnesota is part of Superior National Forest. It is one of the crown jewels in the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS). Much of the BWCA was also the nation's second wilderness, administratively designated by former Secretary of Agriculture William Jardine in 1926. At 1,087,000 acres (440,081 hectares) in size, the BWCA Wilderness is the largest wilderness in the United States east of the Rocky Mountains and north of the Florida Everglades. The area is also the only significant lakeland wilderness in the national wilderness system, and, unlike other wilderness areas in the United States, the principal means of travel in the region is by canoe. The BWCA Wilderness also holds the dubious distinction as the most heavily visited wilderness in the United States, where 200,000 annual visitors compile 1.5 million recreation visitor days of use each year.

LaVerendrye Provincial Park is a relatively new park along the international boundary, stretching from the southeast corner of Quetico Park eastward to Lake Superior. LaVerendrye is a waterway park in the Ontario park classification system, roughly analogous to the U.S. Wild and Scenic River System. LaVerendrye covers a total of 45,287 acres (18,335 hectares) along this route, although for the most part, the park includes only 200 meters of land inland from shorelines. The BWCA Wilderness shares most of the lakes along this route with LaVerendrye, with the international boundary running down the middle of these lakes.

Quetico Provincial Park Ontario's Quetico Provincial Park lies adjacent to the BWCA Wilderness along the international border. Quetico is classified as a wilderness park under Ontario's park system and is widely recognized as the finest wilderness park in the province. At 1,175,000 acres (475,708 hectares) in size, Quetico's boundaries make it a much more compact wilderness with a far more remote interior area than the BWCA Wilderness. Though just slightly larger in size than the BWCA Wilderness, Quetico allows only about one fifth the amount of visitor use as does the BWCA.

Voyageurs National Park Voyageurs National Park anchors the west end of the Quetico-Superior Ecosystem on the Minnesota side of the border, immediately to the west of the BWCA Wilderness. Voyageurs Park, administered by the USDI National Park Service (NPS), covers 219,000 acres (88,664 hectares); nearly 40 percent of that total is water, primarily in four large lakes: Rainy Lake, Lake Kabetogama, Namakan Lake, and Sand Point Lake.

Un-Designated Lands In addition to the above lands, which have received wilderness or park designation and therefore some measure of protection, extensive de facto wilderness lands also exist within the ecosystem. These lands do not yet have wilderness or park status, but nevertheless comprise key elements of this international wilderness complex. The Ontario lands south of the Namakan River and bordered by the international boundary remain a key, unprotected parcel currently scheduled for clear-cutting and road-building. This block of Crown Land (public land) borders Quetico Provincial Park, the BWCA Wilderness, Voyageurs National Park, and the Lac La Croix Reserve, and its key location makes it central to protecting the parks and wildernesses it borders. This block totals approximately 90,000 acres (36,500 hectares) and remains largely undamaged by logging and road-building to date. The Superior National Forest contains many de facto wilderness parcels adjacent to the BWCA Wilderness that will also play key roles in the protection of the BWCA's wild character. Some of these parcels include lakes that lie partially within and partially outside of the wilderness boundaries. Homer Lake, along the southern edge of the central BWCA, fits this example. It is a currently undeveloped lake, but its east half lies outside the wilderness boundary. Other

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roadless, undeveloped blocks of land lie along the periphery of the BWCA Wilderness, but they may be subject to logging, road-building, and development.

for the region. In the late 1920s, he proposed a 10 million-acre (4 million-hectares) preserve in this region, encompassing the watersheds of the Pigeon and Rainy rivers (Oberholtzer, 1929). Oberholtzer, later a co-founder with Robert Marshall of the Wilderness Society, had canoed throughout the region beginning in the first decade of this century, studying the region and its native peoples. Through his efforts and those of Arthur Hawkes, Sigurd Olson, Omond Solandt, and many others, the region has retained its wilderness qualities (Searle, 1977).

River corridors in Superior National Forest provide another example of un-designated lands of key importance to the Quetico-Superior Ecosystem. The Minnesota side of the Pigeon River along the international border (opposite Ontario's LaVerendrye Park) is a candidate for federal Wild and Scenic River status, as are the Brule and Temperance rivers (which begin within the BWCA Wilderness and flow southward to Lake Superior) and the Vermilion River (which begins at Lake Vermilion, adjacent to the BWCA Wilderness and flows northward to the international boundary at Crane Lake). Immediately east of Quetico lies a large block of lands that fall within the watershed of the park. These lands are designated as an Area of Concern because of the park, but this designation brings with it no restrictions on development or resource extraction here. But the activities that occur here play an important role on the quality of the Quetico-Superior wilderness complex. CONSERVATION HISTORY Wilderness conservationists on both sides of the border have waged long battles to protect different elements ofthe Quetico-Superior region. These efforts have occurred in separate but somewhat parallel fashion, and, although some of the same individuals or organizations have been involved in the various initiatives, no official or single coordinated planning effort has produced the designation of the region's various components as wilderness or parks. Conservation organizations (such as Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness) and citizens on both sides of the border have provided most of the broader, international vision to coordinate protection and management of this region. A private citizen, Ernest Oberholtzer of Rainy Lake, came closest to prescribing a master plan

Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness is the most embattled wilderness in the United States (Proescholdt, 1989). Superior National Forest was established in 1909, and soon after World War I, the battles began to protect the region. It was to resolve a controversy over road-building that prompted former Secretary of Agriculture Jardine to designate 1,000 square miles of the current BWCA region as wilderness in 1926. Beginning in 1930, Congress has passed four different federal laws to protect the area, each one adding additional protection and removing more of the non-conforming uses in the canoe country wilderness. President Harry Truman established an unprecedented airspace reservation over the wilderness in 1949 to prevent low aircraft overflights and float plane landings. Though an original unit of the NWPS, special language in the 1964 Wilderness Act singled out the BWCA to allow continued logging and motorized use. Congress passed the most recent law affecting the area in 1978, ending a nation-wide campaign led by Friends ofthe Boundary Waters Wilderness to save the area as wilderness. The 1978 BWCA Wilderness Act ended logging, greatly restricted motorized use, tightly restricted mining, and enlarged the area by some 57,000 acres (23,000 hectares) in over 20 key additions (Proescholdt, 1985) to the 1964 act. The 1978 law represents the first and only time that the 1964 Wilderness Act has been amended, through removing the special BWCA exemptions. 123


Quetico Provincial Park

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Ontario first established Quetico as Quetico Timber Reserve in 1909, the same year as the creation of Superior National Forest. Four years later, Quetico was re-designated as a provincial park. Though a park, Quetico was still open to logging, and logging did occur off and on through the 1960s. In 1969, the Algonquin Wildlands League launched a campaign to save Quetico from logging. Other conservation organizations like the Quetico Foundation and Federation of Ontario Naturalists have also played key roles in protecting Quetico. In 1971, a ban on logging in Quetico was granted by the Ontario government, and Quetico was formally re-classified as a wilderness park in 1973 (Killan and Warecki, 1988). Voyageurs National Park Voyageurs National Park was authorized by Congress in 1971 and formally established as a park in 1975, following completion of a land exchange with the State of Minnesota. Voyageurs has also had a relatively controversial history in its relatively short life, facing development threats from local interests, hunting within a portion of the park, and snowmobile interests pushing for access to the entire park (Treuer, 1979). None of the four large lakes within the park is closed to motorboat or snowmobile use, making Voyageurs the most heavily motorized national park in the United States in terms of percentage of area open to motorized use. Only Voyageurs and Grand Teton allow motor vehicles off unplowed roads. Local development and snowmobile interests have pushed for years to build an on-land snowmobile trail down the Kabetogama Peninsula, the largest land mass in the park and the best candidate for wilderness designation. THREATS Despite the battles that have been waged to protect the wilderness values and wild character of the Quetico-Superior Ecosystem, a number of threats to this region remain.

Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness Visitor Use The BWCA Wilderness is the most heavily visited unit in the NWPS. Over 200,000 people visit the area annually, accounting for 1.5 million recreation visitor days of use each year. The amount of visitation has reached such a high level that crowding has been occurring for the past number of years, and the "outstanding opportunities for solitude" promised by the 1964 Wilderness Act have been eliminated or severely diminished during much of the summer season (Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness, 1992b). The USDA Forest Service (USFS), responding to these concerns raised by organizations like Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness, released a new Management Plan for the area on 19 August 1993. While the new plan reduces the theoretical maximum number of groups from 382 to 280.5 per day (a 27 percent reduction), these reductions still affect only about 10 days during the fivemonth ice-free season (USFS, 1993). The area will remain as the most heavily visited wilderness in the United States, and visitor use must be reduced much further to restore solitude, degraded campsites, and wilderness conditions. Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness Motor Use Even after the final phase-out of motorboat use scheduled under the 1978 BWCA Wilderness Act, 24 percent of the water surface area in the wilderness will remain open to motorboat use. But even "legal" motor use creates conflicts and problems. Motor use continues to degrade the wilderness experience and resource and continues to create management problems for the USFS. Commercial tow boats make a sacrifice zone of some lakes or chains of lakes, for example, frantically trying to penetrate as deep within the wilderness as possible to drop off customers. These motorboats, roaring up and down these wilderness lakes, forfeit the area as wilderness. Eventually, all motor use within the BWCA Wilderness must be eliminated.

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Logging East of Quetico Provincial Park Just outside Quetico's eastern boundary, commercial logging, primarily clear-cutting, has been occurring within the Dog River/Matawin Forest. A series of more or less contiguous clear-cuts has created an enormous clear-cut area of more than 50,000 acres (20,000 hectares) right up to Quetico's eastern border. Streams have been completely denuded, with no riparian zone left uncut. Roads riddle the area, which lies within the watershed of Quetico and flows directly into the park. Logging in this area (and mining, which is being explored at Moss Lake) or similar activities anywhere along the border of wildernesses and parks must not continue without recognition of the adjacent park or wilderness values and measures to mitigate those impacts. LaVerendrye Provincial Park Development Ontario's LaVerendrye Park, while a welcome addition to the designated lands within the QueticoSuperior Ecosystem, proposes far too much development and not nearly enough protection. The park's Management Plan, for example, proposes a major Development Zone where a road would be built to Saganaga Lake on the border. Not only will administrative headquarters be here, but commercial facilities will be allowed to be developed by private business interests, including a lodge, cabins, campground, boat launch, docking facilities, food services, rental and retail sales services, and garbage collection facilities on a lake that is largely wilderness. The park's plan also ignores the BWCA Wilderness on one stretch of the boundary and proposes no limits or restrictions on motorboats for the Ontario portions of the lakes from South Lake east to Moose Lake, where the Minnesota portions of these same lakes are closed to motorboats (Ontario MNR, 1993). The Management Plan must be revised to lessen the emphasis on development and road access zones and match the wilderness regulations on the South Lake to Moose Lake stretch of the border. Cook County Development Cook County, one of three counties in Minnesota in which the BWCA Wilderness lies, administers about 2,500 acres (1,000 hectares) of land within the wilderness in a variety of scattered parcels.

These lands are state-owned tax-forfeited lands, managed by the county. Cook County has threatened to lease these lands for development as private commercial campgrounds within the wilderness in an effort to gain leverage over the USFS. The county has so far refused to accept offers by the USFS to either purchase these lands or acquire them by exchange. These lands must be protected from development and either sold or exchanged to the USFS. Voyageurs National Park Wilderness Designation During the Bush Administration, theNPS recommended to the President that 127,000 acres (51,000 hectares) of Voyageurs National Park be officially designated as wilderness, but that the wilderness be carved up with non-wilderness corridors to allow on-land snowmobile trails (USDI, 1992). Development pressures continue to be raised against Voyageurs Park, and wilderness designation will offer some measure of protection for the park that will fend off most of the locally-backed schemes. Congress should pass legislation designating this portion of Voyageurs Park as wilderness, but without the non-wilderness corridors. NATIVE PEOPLE AND THE THREAT TO QUETICO PROVINCIAL PARK The Lac La Croix First Nation is a small community of about 250 members who live on their reservation on the Ontario side of the international border lake of Lac La Croix. This nation consists of Ojibwa (or Anishinabe) people, and their reserve borders Quetico, the BWCA Wilderness, and the Namakan lands mentioned previously. The Lac La Croix First Nation is an isolated and traditional Ojibwa community that has perpetuated the Ojibwa culture and language better than virtually any other such community in Ontario. Until now, no road access to the outside has reached the community, contributing significantly to the village's geographic isolation and cultural integrity. The community has, however, suffered through decades of poverty and high levels of unemployment and what the nation claims has been mistreatment by the Ontario government. 125


The Lac La Croix First Nation has long sought means of livelihood that can support its community economically and provide a bigger and broader economic future for the community. In the past, the community's main source of income has consisted primarily of guiding motorboat fishing parties (during the summer season) that stay at two commercial fishing camps/resorts on the Canadian side of Lac La Croix. The number of fishing guides from the Lac La Croix community has been gradually dwindling, however, from 20 in 1992 to 18 in 1993, and perhaps only to 15 in 1994. No young men from the community have developed guiding as an occupation, and no guides from Lac La Croix are under the age of 40. Guides from Lac La Croix have already been given exclusive motorized access to ten major lakes in western and northwestern Quetico for motorboat guiding use, as well as float plane access to Beaverhouse Lake, a major entry lake in the northwestern corner of the park (Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness, 1992a). The 1978 BWCA Wilderness Act closed most of the Minnesota portion of Lac La Croix lake to motorboat use, a move which continues to antagonize the guides from the Lac La Croix community. Tensions have run high at times. Many of these guides continue to violate the U.S. restrictions and race back across the international boundary when the USFS patrols the area. Guides have threatened violence to canoe parties that encounter the motorboats in no-motor zones, and one armed confrontation occurred (but ended without violence) when USFS rangers encountered an armed guide from the Lac La Croix community looting a USFS cabin. In late 1991 and early 1992, the Lac La Croix First Nation made a formal proposal to the provincial government to amend the Quetico Management Plan to give their community even more float plane and motorboat use within the park, including the Sturgeon Lake country in the heart of Quetico. The current Ontario government, formed by the New Democratic Party (NDP), has looked favorably upon responding to native demands across the province; in other instances, the government has easily given up park resources. Conservationists on both sides of the border opposed the Lac La Croix-Quetico proposal, claiming that the loss of wilderness status would

be tremendous and could be permanent, pointing out that many more productive and wildernesscompatible initiatives should instead be pursued, many of which the Lac La Croix community hopes will help foster an economic base for the Lac La Croix First Nation (Ontario MNR, 1992; Proescholdt, 1992). Representatives from these conservation organizations, including Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness, Federation of Ontario Naturalists, Wildlands League, Quetico Foundation, and Friends of Quetico, have visited the Lac La Croix community on several different occasions to learn more about the Ojibwa people and their proposal for Quetico. The Lac La Croix people call this wilderness their home and speak with great reverence of the land and their relationship to it. The elders in the community wield considerable influence within the community and speak strongly for the traditional values and protection of the wilderness. The guides association also exerts strong influence, however, and tends to voice the more militant viewpoint within the community for airplane and motorboat access. As in many traditional communities, a community position comes about only after a slow process of discussion and consensus-building. In the autumn of 1993, the Ontario government and the Lac La Croix First Nation initialed a draft Agreement of Co-Existence between the two parties. While this agreement does include many of the wilderness-compatible initiatives such as greater employment within the park with the Ministry of Natural Resources for Lac La Croix members, development of an Ojibwa cultural interpretive program for Quetico, co-management of the Namakan lands, and so forth, the agreement also proposes to sacrifice the western third of Quetico (plus Crooked Lake and Bass -wodLakenthirolbde)aswirness and open up this entire territory to the possibility of float plane and motorboat use by Lac La Croix guides. Conservationists have again opposed this new proposal, which in many ways is more extensive and onerous to wilderness values than the initial proposal. Conservation organizations point out that exploitation of the park's resources by airplane and motorboat use will destroy the wilder126


ness character of Quetico. Although these organizations have a great deal of sympathy for native people in general and the Lac La Croix community in particular, their primary concern remains the protection of Quetico's wilderness character from exploitation, regardless of whether this exploitation comes from native or non-native people. The opening of the two international border lakes in the heart of the Quetico-Superior Ecosystem will have terrible impacts on the BWCA Wilderness as well. The agreement contains no phaseout or termination date for this motorized use, despite general language about eventually eliminating motor use from within Quetico.

Oberholtzer, E. 1929. A university of the wilderness: The proposal to perpetuate by treaty the Ontario-Minnesota border lakes. American Forests. November. Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources. 1992. Quetico Provincial Park: Lac La Croix Amendment Proposal. . 1993. LaVerendrye Provincial Park Management Plan. Proescholdt, K. 1989. BWCA: The embattled wilderness. American Forests. 95(7):28-33.

This proposal has raised some profound questions about wilderness protection versus the use of wilderness resources by native peoples. Complex issues of treaty rights, land claims, traditional or subsistence use versus other or commercial uses and the basic nature of how wilderness is viewed and used by native versus non-native cultures all come into play on this Quetico issue. Meanwhile, an irreplaceable wilderness resource ofgreat value to the world hangs in the balance.

—. 1989. BWCA: The embattled wilderness. American Forests. 95(8):78. --. 1985. Implementing environmental legislation: The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness Act (P.L. 95-495). William Mitchell Environmental LawJournal. (3):141. —. 1992. Report from Lac La Croix. Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness: 1991 Annual Report.

A final decision has not yet been made. Searle, R. 1977. Saving Quetico-Superior: A land set apart. Minnesota Historical Society Press.

REFERENCES Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness. 1992a. More motor use proposed for Quetico! BWCA Wilderness News. Winter 1992:1-2.

Treuer, R. 1979. Voyageur country: A park in the wilderness. University of Minnesota Press.

. 1992b. Visitor use in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) Wilderness: A policy paper. July 1992.

USDA Forest Service. 1993. BWCA Wilderness Management Plan and Implementation Schedule and Final Environmental Impact Statement.

• 1993. Final Management Plan released. BWCA Wilderness News. Autumn 1993: 1-2.

USDI National Park Service. 1992. Final Environmental Impact Statement for a Wilderness Recommendation, Voyageurs National Park, Minnesota.

Heinselman, M. 1973. Fire in the virgin forests of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, Minnesota. Quaternary Research. 3(3):329-82. Killan, G., and G. Warecki. 1988. The battle for wilderness in Ontario: Saving QueticoSuperior 1927 to 1960. In: Patterns of the past: Interpreting Ontario's history, R. Hall, W. Westfall, and L. Sefton MacDowell, eds. Dundurn Press.

AUTHOR Kevin Proescholdt Friends of the Boundary Waters Wilderness 1313 Fifth Street SE #329 Minneapolis, MN 55414 127


WILDERNESS AND THE WORKING LANDSCAPE: A CASE STUDY OF THE ADIRONDACK PARK THOMAS PASQUARELLO ROBERT BUERGER GARY RANDORF Those who seek to protect wilderness constantly face challenges posed by natural resource exploitation, development, inadequate fiscal resources, and the need to protect indigenous peoples and their cultures. In response to these challenges, governments around the world are creating wilderness preserves that combine public and private land. New York State's Adirondack Park has incorporated public and private land for the past 100 years, and its successes and failures provide important lessons about this model of wilderness protection. This paper identifies the major policies that protect the Adirondack wilderness today, analyzes their shortcomings, and suggests new policies that will help the Adirondack Park remain a model for wilderness protection in a developing world. After 70 years of intensive clear-cut logging, the Adirondack region of New York State was an environmental disaster area at the end of the last century. Today, much of Adirondack Park is again pristine wilderness. Species such as moose that were once locally extinct have returned, and perhaps the strongest piece of environmental legislation ever passed in the United States, the famous forever wild amendment to the New York State Constitution, stands guard over the Adirondack Forest Preserve. At the same time, the Park's centennial decade, which began in 1985 with the 100-year anniversary of the creation of New York's Forest Preserve and ends in 1994 with the centennial of the forever wild clause, has been marked as much by conflict and controversy as it has by celebration. The forever wild clause is Article 14 of the New York State Constitution and reads: The lands of the State, now owned or hereafter acquired, constituting the Forest Preserve as now fixed by law, shall be forever kept as wild forest

lands. They shall not be leased, sold, or exchanged; taken by any corporation, public or private; or the timber thereon be sold, removed, or destroyed (Graham, 1980). Much of the controversy stems from the fact that Adirondack Park is one of the few wilderness preserves in the United States that combines public (about 40 percent) and private (about 60 percent) lands and has significant permanent (approximately 130,000) and seasonal (approximately 200,000) resident populations. Many of these residents own property and earn their livings within Park boundaries, and many resent Park regulations that restrict their property rights and, in their view, their economic opportunities. In contrast, environmental and recreational interest groups (largely made up of non-residents) are concerned that development on private property in the Park threatens the integrity of the adjacent Adirondack wilderness. This sometimes uneasy marriage of environment and economy makes Adirondack Park an increasingly appropriate model for wilderness protection in a rapidly developing world. The key to the regeneration and preservation of the Adirondack wilderness has been state ownership and management of critical wilderness areas. Early abuses of state-owned lands in the Park by loggers resulted in the strong and specific protection of these lands by the forever wild clause (Graham, 1978). As an amendment to the New York State Constitution, the forever wild clause cannot be altered without the approval of state legislature in two successive years and subsequent approval by a majority of voters in a statewide referendum. Today, critical wilderness areas in Adirondack Park are designated by a land use and development plan map. In general, 128


designated wilderness areas in Adirondack Park are those that protect or enhance bio-diversity and environmental quality, protect or enhance wilderness aesthetics such as scenic vistas and open spaces, and provide opportunities for wilderness-based activities and recreation. Thus, the Adirondack High Peaks region (with its fragile Arctic tundra ecosystems, spectacular views, and recreational opportunities) is almost entirely owned by the State, as are most of the remaining patches of old-growth forest.

Working Landscapes are another major component of the Adirondack model. Working Landscapes are "areas used for economic activities that do not irretrievably alter the natural ecological conditions and enhance historical traditions, environmental objectives, and scenic objectives" (New York State, 1991). The most common Working Landscape in Adirondack Park is the forest products industry, which controls over 1.1 million acres of private land. Although the park was created as a result of the exploitative timber practices of the mid-1800s, today the forest products industry is an integral part of it. Modern silvicultural practices have helped to create an Adirondack forest products industry that is, for the most part, an environmentally friendly neighbor to wilderness areas. The Adirondack forest products industry also provides jobs for park residents, pays local and state taxes, leases land for recreational use (e.g., hunting and snowmobile clubs), and provides public easements for hiking and canoe trails that cross their property. Perhaps the most important contribution of the forest products Working Landscape is the protection of the open space character of the region. Although these lands are used for timber production, the relatively slow growth of the replanted forest insures that much of the forest products land, at any given time, is in aprocess ofregrowth. This process insures that a part of the Adirondack Forest is constantly in transition, and this is important for the creation of habitat for some wildlife species (e.g., white-tailed deer, eagles, spruce grouse, and black bear). In contrast, over time, the protected wilderness lands of the park will predominately become climax forest unless natural forces alter the landscape.

Given the fiscal problems that have plagued New York State in recent years, conservation easements and purchases by private land trusts have become important factors in protecting critical wilderness in Adirondack Park. For example, when 1,400-acre Lake Lila was donated to New York in the late 1970s by its former owner, the State was able to create a spectacular and popular primitive area at minimal cost by purchasing conservation easements that preserved the integrity of the surrounding wilderness while simultaneously providing public access to the lake through the surrounding forest products lands. More recently, the Nature Conservancy Land Trust has purchased valuable patches of wilderness in the Park, hoping to eventually sell them to the state when its current fiscal crisis is over. Land use planning on an unprecedented scale for the United States is an essential part of the Adirondack model of wilderness protection. In 1971, the New York State Legislature created the Adirondack Park Agency (APA) and charged it with developing master plans that set policy for the management of state lands and guided land use and development on private lands in the park. Under this land use plan, all private lands are mapped into six classifications with specific guidelines for intensity of development based on the number of buildings allowed per square mile. In addition, projects of regional significance (such as large condominium developments) and projects that affect park wetlands require special permits from the APA. The APA also provides technical and other assistance to local governments in the park to help them develop local zoning, subdivision, and sanitary codes.

A second important Working Landscape is the park's tourism industry, which is composed mainly of vacation homes, private attractions, and support services (e.g., motels, restaurants, and gas stations). Although the Park's protected wilderness lands provide an outdoor recreation tourism destination for many people (both for outdoor recreation and a growing eco-tourism industry), most tourism use of the park takes place on adjacent private park lands. This relationship benefits wilderness protection by focusing many 129


types of tourism use (e.g., sightseeing, lodging, and visiting attractions) on private land while reducing use of much of the public wilderness resource base. As a result, visitors gain a personal sense of the value and importance of Adirondack Park while in most cases never venturing into the designated wilderness areas. The exceptions are wilderness areas where access is simplified by proximity to major roads or water corridors. In these situations, heavy user impact on wilderness resources has occurred. A third type of Working Landscape that is important to the Adirondack Park model is public infrastructure. Given the size of the park (6 million acres), infrastructure such as roads, utilities, hospitals, and governmental support services are essential both for residents and for the estimated 9 million people that visit the Adirondacks each year. Many park residents rely upon the infrastructure for their livelihood, and they also support the park's infrastructure through local taxes. Given New York's fiscal crisis, it is unlikely that the state could continue to support the park infrastructure at current levels without local tax revenues. In a sense, the revenues generated by private lands allow the state to have a park on the cheap in the Adirondacks. Due to the success of these policies, Adirondack Park is an oasis of wilderness located within a day's drive of 60 million people. Its scenic beauty and recreational resources (2,500 lakes and ponds, 42 peaks over 4,000 feet high, 2,000 miles of hiking trails, 1,200 miles of wild rivers, 30,000 miles of brooks and streams, and 43 state campgrounds) make Adirondack Park one of the premier travel destinations in the northeastern United States and an increasingly attractive location for vacation homes. As a result, current park policies have not been successful in protecting wilderness resources in some areas of the park. For example, concentrated use of the more famous and/or accessible Adirondack High Peaks by hikers has resulted in negative impacts to their ecological and aesthetic integrity, even though the Park has a plan for visitor management and ecological restoration in place. The irony of this situation is that the stated goal of the New York

Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) to provide users of the Adirondack wilderness with a truly natural experience through lowuser density in a largely unaltered wild landscape is the main attraction that concentrates use and impact in the High Peaks region. The result is increasing visitor dissatisfaction and growing negative impacts on this critical wilderness area. Resource managers attempting to protect critical wilderness areas in Adirondack Park must turn to more innovative methods of managing visitor behavior. Promoting under-utilized wilderness areas, restricting the number and size of user groups, requiring users to possess low-impact wilderness skills certification, and helping to develop an environmental ethic and sense of stewardship for the wilderness resource among users are management techniques that hold potential for protecting the integrity of the Adirondack wilderness. Expansion of the programs offered through APA Visitor Interpretive Centers (e.g., developing outreach programs for popular campsites and trail heads) is a logical place to start this process. The decline of the Adirondack forest products industry in recent years is also cause for concern. Non-productive forest products lands are likely targets for large development projects that threaten the integrity of adjacent wilderness areas, and the loss of jobs in the forest products industry contributes to the high rate of unemployment and lower-than-average incomes in the park. Several policies could be implemented to reverse this trend. Tax incentives, conservation easements, and loans or loan guarantees for capital improvements would help the park's forest products industry to remain competitive, as would programs that encourage the forest products industry to develop and market recreational use of its lands. Programs that encourage the development of innovative working landscapes such as recreation and environmental and outdoor education camps, scientific research stations, private hunting and fishing preserves, and small-scale indigenous products industries such as woodcraft, furniture-making, and wooden boat building should also be established. 130


this situation might be improving (Buerger and Pasquarello, 1993 a), Governor Cuomo appointed his Commission on Adirondack Park in the 21st Century. The majority of park residents were convinced that the Commission did not represent their interests, and they responded to its final report with protests, civil disobedience, and scattered acts of violence. As a result, not one of the Commission's 245 recommendations has been enacted in the four years following its report.

Land use planning is not the only way to insure that development patterns in the park do not threaten the integrity of adjacent wilderness areas. New York State should become an active participant in the Adirondack real estate market, creating development projects designed around strict performance standards and environmental goals. For example, the state could purchase undeveloped shoreline currently for sale in the park and design developments with strict shoreline setbacks and screening, appropriate lot sizes, state-of-the-art septic and/or waste treatment facilities, buried utility lines, public access, recreation facilities, and wildlife habitats. Profits from these development projects could be used to finance new developments on the same model and acquire and manage additional wilderness areas or any other projects that would benefit the park.

The failure of the APA to develop a planning partnership with local governments, and park residents' opposition to the report of the Governor's Commission on Adirondack Park in the 21st century and the 1991 Environmental Quality Bond Act, is symptomatic of residents' longstanding dissatisfaction with their lack of representation in park governance. This problem can best be addressed by giving residents and their local government representatives meaningful roles in selecting the APA governing board of commissioners and in deciding other park issues. If park residents are given meaningful representation, there is a much greater likelihood that they will become willing supporters of the policies and agencies that govern the park. For example, in the summer of 1993, local government representatives to the Adirondack Association of Towns and Villages supported a dedicated environmental fund for New York State that included money for land acquisition in the park after local governments were given veto power over acquisitions in their jurisdiction.

Living and working adjacent to the Adirondack wilderness, park residents would make ideal stewards of the wilderness character of the park, but several barriers must be overcome before residents are likely to accept this role. First, residents feel left out of the decision-making process regarding park issues. They frequently complain about the future of the park being decided by outsiders who neither live in the park nor have a personal stake in what happens to the park. Recent research on park issues (Buerger and Pasquarello, 1993a) found that the majority of residents believe that New Yorkers who live outside the park have too much control over what happens within its boundaries. Another study (Buerger and Pasquarello, 1 993b) concluded that much of the statewide opposition to the 1991 Environmental Quality Bond Act (the only environmental bond act to suffer defeat in the history of New York State) was due to the efforts of Adirondack Park residents who felt that funds from the bond act would finance a state land acquisition plan for the park that had been developed without their input. Finally, there has been strong resistance by residents to the Adirondack Park Land Use and Development Plan since its inception in 1972, and the APA has not been successful in achieving its stated goal of encouraging local governments to assume responsibility for local development. Just when it looked like

If residents are to be effective participants in Park governance, they must understand its history, ecology, and governing structure. A study by Buerger and Pasquarello (1993a) found that residents' knowledge ofAdirondack Park history and structure is extremely limited. Because most Adirondack schools do not require extensivetreatment of the park's history, ecology, and government, incorporating these topics in the required curriculum and providing Adirondack students with increased opportunities for outdoor education may be the most far-reaching and productive methods of increasing resident stewardship. The APA should expand its education programs to 131


target residents and visitors and develop cooperative programs with other educational organizations within the park (e.g., Adirondack Museum). Adirondack Park is located in one of the world's wealthiest nations, and it is protected by strong environmental legislation, but recent events suggest that it may not continue to thrive if it cannot adapt to changing circumstances. Currently, the administration of the park is shared by the APA and DEC. While there is nothing inherently wrong with this division of labor, the narrow focus of these agencies works against the development of comprehensive and innovative policies and programs. In the future, the mission of Adirondack Park administration must be expanded to include environmentally compatible economic development, social research, and education.

AUTHORS Thomas Pasquarello Department of Political Science State University of New York Cortland, NY 13045 Robert Buerger Department of Health, Physical Education, and Recreation University of North Carolina Wilmington, NC 28403-3297 Gary Randorf Adirondack Council Elizabethtown, NY 12932-0640

REFERENCES Buerger, R., and T. Pasquarello. 1993a. Resident's perceptions of recreation development and land use issues within the Adirondack Park. Journal ofRecreation and Leisure. 12(1):93-105. —. 1993b. The Adirondack Park: Changing perceptions of residents towards park land use issues. In: Proceedings ofthe Northeastern Recreation Research Symposium. Radnor, Penn.: Northeastern Forest Experiment Station. Graham, F. 1978. The Adirondack Park: A political history. Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press. State of New York. 1991. Conserving Open Space in New York State: Preliminary Draft Plan. Albany: New York Department of Environmental Conservation.

132


WILDERNESS USE AND PRESERVATION: A PROPOSED ADIRONDACK WILDERNESS PLANNING STRATEGY CHAD DAWSON KRISTOFER ALBERGA MICHAEL WASHBURN INTRODUCTION

all state- and federal-designated wilderness in the 11 northeastern states (StateofNewYork, 1989). The 16 Adirondack areas include all or portions of 755 bodies of water (11,147 acres or 4,514 hectares); state-designated wild, scenic, and recreational rivers; 690 miles (1,110 kilometers) of foot trails; and 70 miles (113 kilometers) of horse trails (State of New York, 1989).

The New York Forest Preserve was created in 1885 and protected in 1894 by the State Constitution to be "forever kept as wild forest lands." In 1989, the Forest Preserve lands totalled 2.3 million acres in the publicly and privately owned 6-million-acre Adirondack Park (State of New York, 1989). Forty-four percent of the Forest Preserve land within Adirondack Park has been allocated into 16 wilderness areas. However, planning and management of the wilderness areas in the Forest Preserve has been slow due to many constraints and pressures. With large populations in the northeastern United States, some wilderness areas experience high user densities, and some professionals and public groups advocate that user limits need to be set to maintain solitude and the integrity of the resource. While the preservation strategy in the state constitution calls for maintaining "forever wild" conditions throughout the Forest Preserve, the pressures of recreational users, private land use, and special interest groups have created the need for a broader strategy on how wilderness areas in the Forest Preserve can contribute to balancing the preservation and use goals in Adirondack Park.

The New York State definition for wilderness was formulated by the State Land Master Plan (SLMP) in 1972 and closely parallels the federal definition from the 1964 Wilderness Act: A wilderness area, in contrast with those areas where man and his works dominate the landscape, is an area where the Earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man--where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. A wilderness area is further defined to mean an area of state land or water having primeval character, without significant improvement or human habitation, which is protected and managed so as to preserve, enhance, and restore, where necessary, its natural condition ..." (State of New York, 1989).

NEW YORK FOREST PRESERVE

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (NYSDEC) was designated to manage the 2.3 million acres of publicly owned land within the Adirondack Forest Preserve. The Forest Preserve includes 58 NYSDEC management areas as described in the Adirondack Park State Land Master Plan (State of New York, 1989). (See Table 1.) The 16 wilderness areas of the Adirondacks are the focus ofthis paper and include over 1 million acres, which represents 44 percent of the Forest Preserve and the majority of

WILDERNESS PLANNING The SLMP required in 1972 that unit management plans (UMPs) be written as directed under the guidelines of the first SLMP and subsequent revisions (State of New York, 1989). One of the requirements in the guidelines was that: ... each individual unit management plan will seek to determine the physical, biological, and social carrying 133


Table 1. New Yo rk State Adirondack Forest Preserve management areas (State of New York, 1989). Percent of Forest Preserve

Tv^e

of Area

Number of Management Units

Wild Forest

17

1,200,000 (486,000)

52%

Wilderness

16

1,017,000 (411,885)

44%

Primitive

24

61,400^(24,867)

3%

1

18,400^(7,452)

1%

Canoe Total

58

Ac reage of Area

2,296,800 (930,204)

100%

* Hectares given in parentheses. capacity of the wilderness resource. Where the degree and intensity of permitted recreational uses threaten the resource, appropriate administrative and regulatory measures will be taken to limit such use to the capability of the resource (State of New York,

5. lack of NYSDEC resources in the Division of Fish and Wildlife to prepare sections of the UMPs; and 6. differences between the Adirondack Park Agency and NYSDEC in interpreting the State Land Master Plan.

1989).

In 1993, 21 years after the 1972 SLMP first defined wilderness, only 6 of the 16 wilderness area UMPs were completed or near completion (NYSDEC, 1985; 1986; 1987a; 1987b; 1992a; and 1992b). Professor James Dawson (1990) reported six reasons for the delays in completion of these UMPs:

In general, the emphasis of the agencies and the public has been more on acquisition of additional lands for wilderness than on wilderness planning or management. The UMP completion rate of 38 percent in the Adirondack wilderness areas is the same as reported for completion and approval of national wilderness UMPs (Reed et al., 1989). Review of the six Adirondack wilderness area UMPs (NYSDEC, 1985; 1986; 1987a; 1987b; 1992a; and 1992b) lead us to three important observations.

1. lack of full-time staff to complete the UMPs; 2. insufficient NYSDEC priority for plan completion; 3. NYSDEC is required to address a wide variety of other responsibilities; 4. absence of plans provide NYSDEC with more management flexibility;

First, the wilderness planning and management philosophy of the NYSDEC was towards an anthropocentric or human-oriented viewpoint. This philosophy is "wilderness for people's sake" as opposed to "wilderness for wilderness' sake" (Hendee et al., 1990). The NYSDEC management approaches that are labeled as anthropocen134


Snowden, 1976; andAlbergaandDawson, 1994), it is hypothesized that users are being displaced by crowding, loss of solitude, and localized environmental impacts.

tric include: 1) habitat and stock management to support a recreational fishery, 2) forest fire control plans, and 3) recreational activities such as hunting, fishing, and hiking as the highest priority uses.

Third, the carrying capacity analyses are inadequate in the current Adirondack Wilderness UMPs due to little or no research and information on physical, biological, and social parameters.

Second, the wilderness areas have a high degree of variability in recreational conditions and use. (See Table 2.) Information about wilderness area size, miles of trails, and number of lean-to camping facilities suggests differences in accessibility and solitude. The number of user trips varies by day of week, season, trail location, and wilderness area. (See Table 2.) Although little information is available about Adirondack wilderness users (Wilderness Research Center, 1969;

One of the positive aspects of these observations is that the current Adirondack wilderness areas represent a continuum of wilderness conditions and opportunities along the Recreation Opportunity Spectrum (ROS). According to the ROS concept, this continuum should be maintained to

Table 2. Characteristics of 16 Adirondack wilderness areas. Area Name

Area Acreage "

Trail Mileage ""

Intensive Use High Peaks

192,685 (78,037)

238 (383)

84

110,000

Moderate Use Pigeon Lake Siamese Ponds Ha-de-ron-dah Pharaoh Lake Silver Lake Five Ponds West Canada Lakes Dix Mountain

50,100 (20,290) 112,524 (45,572) 26,528 (10,743) 45,883 (18,582) 105,270 (42,634) 94,758 (38,376) 156,695 (63,461) 45,208 (18,309)

42 (68) 33 (53) 35 (56) 63 (101) 26 (42) 58 (93) 78 (125) 36 (58)

5 4 2 14 2 14 11 2

8,000 3,000 2,000 n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a.

Light Use Hoffman Notch McKenzie Mountain Giant Mountain Sentinel Range Blue Ridge

36,231 (14,673) 37,616 (15,234) 22,768 (9,221) 23,252 (9,417) 45,736 (18,523)

30 (48) 14 (23) 12 (19) 14 (23) 15 (24)

0 2 1 1 3

n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a.

Infrequent Use Jay Mountain Pepperbox

7,100 (2,875) 14,625 (5,923)

1^(2) 2^(3)

0 0

n.a. 300

* Hectares given in parentheses. ** Kilometers given in parentheses. Note: n.a. = not available. 135

Lean-Tos

User Trios/Year


provide for a diversity of users (Driver et al., 1987). Maintaining this continuum will be difficult because ongoing planning efforts in the intensively used High Peaks wilderness area will likely seek to limit use and redistribute it to other less used areas. Also, ongoing NYSDEC planning efforts to increase and distribute use across all 58 management units within the Forest Preserve, using information and educational initiatives, could significantly change current wilderness use patterns. RECOMMENDATIONS FOR NEW YORK STATE DEPARTMENT OF ENVIRONMENTAL CONSERVATION WILDERNESS PLANNING Create a comprehensive, integrated, and proactive strategic management plan that considers the 16 wilderness areas as integral parts of a larger Adirondack Wilderness System. This plan approach would fit within the current SLMP guidelines and allow for better implementation of the SLMP intent. 2. Manage the 16 wilderness areas to maintain or enhance the continuum of ROS activities, setting characteristics and probable user experiences in the primitive class category. 3. Improve the SLMP required carrying capacity analysis by using the Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) concept and planning framework (Stankey et al., 1985). The LAC process includes the carrying capacity concept in a more comprehensive planning framework. 4. Select indicators of conditions that apply across the entire Adirondack Wilderness System and monitor for changes within the units or system wide (Hollenhorst and StullGardner, 1992; and Roggenbuck et al., 1993). 5. Conduct research on the physical, biological, and social conditions in

the wilderness areas and across the 16 areas that comprise the Adirondack Wilderness System (Hendee and Ewert, 1993). Ensure that individual wilderness unit management plans and implementation practices for the 16 areas fit within the framework of this proposed strategic management plan for the Adirondack Wilderness System. CONCLUSIONS While these recommendations may appear to be intuitively obvious to some wilderness planners, it will be difficult to successfully conduct such a planning and management process in the Adirondack Forest Preserve due to several situations. The 21-year history of current management places the NYSDEC in the interim management dilemma of managing without having wilderness unit management plans for so long that current users have likely reached the conclusion that what they are experiencing is the result of planning and management as intended under the 1972 SLMP wilderness designation. Current uses, both appropriate and inappropriate, are well established and will have their advocates during the LAC planning process. Furthermore, the many situations that impeded the NYSDEC from completing unit management plans to date are not likely to change in the near future. To successfully plan for and manage the 16 Adirondack wilderness areas, we must do as Cole (1993) suggests and "increase investment in planning, acquisition, and dissemination of knowledge." Such endeavors will not be without their difficulties and rewards. The rewards are for present and future generations to appreciate. REFERENCES Alberga, K., and C. Dawson. 1994. Effects of seasonality and time of week on hiker motivations and satisfactions in the High Peaks Wilderness Area. In: Proceedings of the 1993 Northeastern Recreation Research Symposium, ed. G. Van der Stoep. USFS, Northeastern Forest Experiment Station General Technical Report. In press. 136


Cole, D. 1993. Wilderness recreation management: We need more than bandages and toothpaste. Journal of Forestry 91(2): 22-4.

—. 1992b. Wilderness management for the High Peaks of Adirondack Park: Final report and recommendations of the High Peaks Wilderness Unit Management Plan Citizen Advisory Committee.

Dawson, J. 1990. New York State wilderness: Management plans and issues in the Adirondack Forest Preserve. In: Managing America's enduring wilderness resource, ed. D. Lime. St Paul: Minnesota Agricultural Experiment Station, University of Minnesota.

Reed, P., G. Haas, F. Beum, and L. Sherrick. 1989. Non-recreational uses of the National Wilderness Preservation System: A 1988 telephone survey. In: Wilderness Benchmark 1988 -- Proceedings of the National Wilderness Colloquium, comp. H. Freilich. USFS General Technical Report SE-5 1.

Driver, B., P. Brown, G. Stankey, and T. Gregoire. 1987. The ROS Planning System: Evolution, basic concepts, and research needed. Leisure Sciences 9:201-12.

Roggenbuck, J., D. Williams, and A. Watson. 1993. Defining acceptable conditions in wilderness. Environmental Management 17(2):187-97.

Hendee, J., G. Stankey, and R. Lucas. 1990. Wilderness management. Revised second edition. Golden, Colorado: North American Press.

Snowden, M. 1976. Winter recreation in the Adirondack High Peaks: User characteristics, attitudes, and perceptions. Masters thesis.

Hendee, J., and A. Ewert. 1993. Wilderness research: Future needs and directions. Journal of Forestry. 91(2):18-21.

Stankey, G., D. Cole, R. Lucas, M. Petersen, and S. Frissell. 1985. The Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) System for wilderness planning. USFS, Intermountain Forest and Range Experiment Station General Technical Report INT-176.

Hollenhorst, S., and L. Stull-Gardner. 1992. The Indicator Performance Estimate (IPE) Approach to defining acceptable conditions in wilderness. In: Proceedings of the Symposium on Social Aspects and Recreation Research. USFS General Technical Report PSW-132. New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. 1985. Pepperbox Wilderness Unit Management Plan. . 1986. Ha-de-ron-dah Wilderness Unit Management Plan. —. 1987a. Siamese Ponds Wilderness Unit Management Plan. —. 1987b. Five Ponds Wilderness, Buck Pond and Wanakena Primitive Corridors Unit Management Plan.

State ofNew York. 1989. Adirondack Park State Land Master Plan. Ray Brook, N.Y.: Adirondack Park Agency. Wildland Research Center. 1969. Wilderness and recreation--A report on resources, values, and problems. Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission Study Report 3. AUTHORS Chad Dawson Kristofer Alberga Michael Washburn College of Environmental Science and Forestry State University of New York 1 Forestry Drive Syracuse, NY 13210-2787

. 1992a. Pigeon Lake Wilderness Unit Management Plan. 137


CRUISE SHIPS AT ALASKA'S WILDERNESS FRONTIER: PROTECTING A WILDERNESS VIEWING EXPERIENCE GARY VEQUIST

ABSTRACT

meters in length and 45 meters above the water line) can have a detrimental affect on the passenger viewing experiences. Various management strategies were instituted to allocate vessel use to restore quality wilderness viewing opportunities.

Cruise ship passengers, representing almost 90 percent of tourist visitors, are the largest component of tourism in Glacier Bay National Park. The marine route navigated by cruise ships offers spectacular glacier and wildlife viewing from a vantage point outside the wilderness boundary. Cruise ships provide an ideal way for thousands of individuals (167,814 during the 1992 tourist season) to view the pristine wilderness scenery without directly impacting wilderness lands. However, vessel traffic in the narrow water corridors in Glacier Bay has resulted in occasional vessel congestion at tidewater glacier viewing locations. (See map.) Sociological research has shown that the mere presence of other cruise ships (up to 200

INTRODUCTION Alaska's de facto wilderness shrank as industrial activity spread into once-isolated arctic areas. It became necessary to set aside large tracts of remote park lands to preserve quality wilderness conditions. Federal wilderness areas in Alaska in 1993 exceed 23 million hectares. Here exists Alaska's Last Frontier, a protected wilderness landscape, unaltered by road construction, commercial timber harvest, and mineral, gas, or oil

138


exploration. Airplanes and motorboats, by some considered to be incompatible with wilderness values, are permitted in Alaskan designated wilderness. (See Table 1.) Small airplanes have long been used throughout Alaska and are often the only practical means of transport in Alaska's remote, roadless areas. Motorboat access in wilderness is customary and occurs wherever boats can navigate safely on lakes, steer around river gravel bars, or pilot through marine waters. Despite these exceptions for motorized use, the principle defining quality of wilderness character, the untrammeled landscape, remains.

Glacier Bay National Park are the largest tourism component, representing 88 percent of the yearly visitation. The decks of a cruise ship offer magnificent tidewater glacier viewing from a vantage point outside the designated wilderness. Thus, cruise ships provide an ideal way for thousands of individuals (167,814 during the 1992 tourist season) to view the pristine wilderness scenery without directly impacting wilderness lands. However, cruise ship stack emissions can create a lingering blue-grey haze partially obscuring glacier views and degrading photographic opportunities (Vequist, 1989). Whether from a cruise ship or kayak, the wilderness viewer has little tolerance for its impurity.

GLACIER BAY'S WILDERNESS ACCESS

Glacier Bay National Park in southeast Alaska contains 1.05 million hectares of wilderness, an area larger than Yellowstone National Park. But unlike Yellowstone, no roads reach the wilderness boundary. Instead, Glacier Bay's fjords offer marine routes that provide windows for wilderness viewing. The deep, marine fjords frequently allow cruise ships, tour boats, and private vessels to pass within one kilometer or less of the wilderness shoreline. (See map.) Cruise ships (up to 200 meters in length and 45 meters above the water line) now travel the same route once travelled only by dugout canoes.

Although the Glacier Bay wilderness covers over a million hectares, major tourism attractions are often precariously small and site-specific. Narrow water corridors in Glacier Bay have resulted in a convergence of motor vessels at tidewater glacier destination points. A cruise ship passenger's viewing experience depends on the environmental setting; the mere presence of a second cruise ship can degrade that viewing experience. Qualitative evidence suggests that many tour boat and cruise ship passengers expect to view the park's vast wilderness only with passengers on their vessel (Vequist, 1987). They arrive with the belief, which is supported by tourism marketing, that "no one else will be there."

Increased interest in travel to remote park lands and increased leisure time contributed to the expansion of tourism. Cruise ship passengers to

Table 1. Alaska federal wilderness access modes compared to other areas. Elsewhere in United States

Mode

Alaska

Motorboats

Yes

No

Snowmobiles

Yes

No

Airplanes

Yes

No

Helicopters

No

No

Autos (i.e., roads)

No

No

All-Terrain Vehicles

No

No

139


VESSEL RESTRICTIONS

Motor vessel numbers were limited in 1980 to protect humpback whales and their feeding habitat in Glacier Bay. The lower vessel numbers reduced congestion at scenic destinations and inadvertently enhanced the wilderness viewing experience. Also, atwo-cruise-ship-per-day limit disperses use across the summer season. Before these restrictions were set, on some days, up to five cruise ships traveled to view the park's tidewater glaciers. Between 1980 and 1992, the number of cruise ships nearly doubled in southeast Alaska; and without the park's entry limitations, cruise ship numbers would be much higher in Glacier Bay. The number of cruise ships entering Glacier Bay during the 1980 tourist season reached 135. By 1992, the number increased to 160 ships. (See Table 2.) An unexpected side effect of the entry restriction was an increase in overflights of small airplanes. On sunny days, flights frequently exceed 70 per day. Much of the increase in scenic flight-seeing was from passengers unable to enter the park by cruise ship (Vequist, 1987). The small airplane

overflights added additional visual and noise disturbance at popular glacier viewing locations. The rise in vessel and aircraft activity in Glacier Bay has diminished trip quality for some visitors. WILDERNESS VIEWING EXPERIENCE

Motor vessel passengers' perceptions about viewing other motor vessels in remote Alaskan locations were not investigated until recently. In a 1989 survey of tour boat passengers, 61 percent reported seeing one or more cruise ships while viewing Grand Pacific Glacier, the destination for most Glacier Bay tours. Eighty percent of those passengers rated viewing wilderness scenery as very important. Sixty-five percent felt viewing two cruise ships at a tidewater glacier destination would create an unpleasant experience (Johnson, 1991). Recreational use conflicts between kayakers/hikers and large motor vessels (cruise ships and tour boats) were examined in 1978. Sociological surveys indicated that wilderness campers generally perceived increased feelings of crowding when exposed to motorized watercraft or aircraft (Johnson, 1979). In a 1984 study, 60 percent of

Table 2. Mode of travel for tourists into Glacier Bay, 1992. Number Mode^of Motor of Access *^Vessels

Percentage of Motor Vessels

Number of Visitors

Percent of Tourist Visits

Cruise Ships^160

12.9

167,814

88.0

Tour Boats^263

21.1

18,461

9.7

Private/Charter Boats^822

66.0

3,413

1.8

Kayaks/Hikers^n.a.

n.a.

990

.5

Total^1,245

100.0

190,678

100.0

*Airplane flight-seeing visits not included. Note: n.a. = not applicable.

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Glacier Bay campers reported decreased enjoyment because of the presence of watercraft or aircraft (Salvi and Johnson, 1985).

—. 1991. Glacier Bay tour boat visitor survey, 1989. Cooperative Park Studies Unit Report. Seattle: University of Washington.

Surveys of tour boat passengers and wilderness kayakers helped wilderness managers define the social environment preferred by different groups of visitors. This guided recommendations for limiting motorized access to certain portions of the park and scheduling the flow of motorized traffic to optimize visitors' wilderness sightseeing experiences. The management objective is to provide conditions needed to preserve uncrowded viewing opportunities at one of the nation's most pristine wilderness areas.

Salvi, W., and D. Johnson. 1985. Glacier Bay backcountry users study, 1984: Statistical abstract. Cooperative Park Studies Unit Report. Seattle: University of Washington. Vequist, G. 1987. Coastal wilderness access: Glacier Bay National Park. Alaska Wilderness and Recreation Conference (Juneau). . 1989. Frequency of visible ship stack emissions in Glacier Bay. Anchorage: NPS, Natural Resource Report AR-89/05.

CONCLUSIONS

AUTHOR

Social science data, while not providing exact formulas for management in Glacier Bay's wilderness frontier, are providing descriptions of visitors' expectations and preferences for wilderness viewing experiences. This information, measured against legal mandates, will help protect an increasingly important wilderness viewing experience as Glacier Bay enters the next century.

Gary Vequist Branch of Resource Management Alaska Regional Office USDI National Park Service 2525 Gambell Street Anchorage, AK 99503-2892

An expressed purpose of wilderness areas in the United States is to provide an opportunity for solitude and unconfined recreational use. However, most Alaskan visitors view wilderness scenery without ever setting foot in it. Their wilderness viewing experience is with a large travel group and from a modern vantage point such as the deck of a cruise ship. They wish to stand on the fringe ofwilderness with the ability to retreat to civilized comforts at day's end. REFERENCES Johnson, D. 1979. Statistical summary of select data from the 1978 backcountry users survey: Glacier Bay National Monument. Cooperative Park Studies Unit Report. Seattle: University of Washington.

141


MANAGEMENT OF THE ARCTIC NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE DAVID OLSEN

animals), all three species of North American bears, wolves, musk-ox, Dall sheep, moose, wolverine, Arctic grayling, Arctic char, eagles, peregrine falcons, and a variety of migratory waterfowl and shorebirds.

The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, with nearly 19.3 million acres of federal land in the northeastern corner of Alaska, is the largest refuge in the United States, spanning more than 200 miles west to east and north to south. The refuge headquarters office is located in Fairbanks, Alaska, 180 miles south of the refuge boundary.

The original 8.9-million-acre Arctic National Wildlife Range was established in 1960 for the purpose of preserving and perpetuating the area's unique wildlife, wilderness, and recreational values, a purpose that remains today. This wildlife range was redesignated the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge by the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA), which Congress passed in December 1980. The ANILCA more than doubled the size of the refuge, established an eight-million-acre wilderness area (most of the original wildlife range and the largest in the National Wildlife Refuge System), and designated three wild and scenic rivers. The ANILCA also expanded the purposes of the refuge, specifying that it shall be managed to:

The premier feature of this refuge is its diversity of undisturbed Arctic and sub-Arctic ecosystems. The refuge includes a unique mix of habitats offering exceptional wildlife, wilderness, scenic, recreational, scientific, and aesthetic values. The rugged Brooks Range, with peaks to 9,000 feet, is located only 35 to 50 miles from the Beaufort Sea coast. Due to that proximity, the refuge is the only area where people may practicably traverse a full range of Arctic landscapes and habitats, including the Arctic tundra of the coastal plain, the rugged Brooks Range mountains, and the boreal forests. The refuge contains the greatest biodiversity of any conservation area in the circumpolar north; it includes an assemblage of plant and animal communities found nowhere else in the region.

• conserve fish and wildlife populations and habitats in their natural diversity;

Other special features of the area include its abundance of magnificent scenery, vastness, remoteness, natural character, and outstanding opportunities for primitive recreation. The refuge, as perhaps America's finest example of wilderness, offers wilderness qualities and opportunities that are hard to find in most other federal areas. The area holds high national and international public interest; management activities are therefore in the public eye.

• fulfill the international treaty obligations of the United States with respect to fish and wildlife;

A spectacular mix of Arctic and sub-Arctic wildlife uses the refuge, including 44 mammal, 169 bird, and 36 fish species. The list includes the international porcupine caribou herd (160,000

Refuge management activities are governed by numerous federal laws and actions including the ANILCA, Wilderness Act, Wild and Scenic Rivers Act, and others. The USDI Fish and Wildlife

• maintain the opportunity for continued subsistence activities by local residents; and • ensure consistent and adequate water quality and quantity within the refuge.

142


Service (FWS) works with the State of Alaska to ensure that management decisions are as consistent as possible with state regulations and laws. Decisions are also coordinated with other organizations and private landowners whose activities may affect or be affected by refuge programs.

conducted to determine their abundance, productivity, and distribution. Endangered and threatened peregrine falcons are studied as part of a long-term program to monitor their recovery. Botanists study plant communities on the refuge to obtain information about areas especially important for wildlife. They also monitor plant recovery in areas disturbed by past seismic work to obtain information that can be used to minimize disturbance from future human activities.

Ecosystems in the Arctic Refuge are managed by the FWS in their original state, maintaining indigenous wildlife populations and habitat relationships and allowing natural processes to continue. The entire refuge is also managed for its nationally recognized wilderness qualities. That portion designated as wilderness is managed to maintain its natural integrity and existing values, emphasizing protection of the natural resources while providing opportunities for research, subsistence, and primitive recreation. The remaining 11 plus million acres, as de facto wilderness, are managed to maintain existing fish and wildlife populations and other resource values, primarily through research, survey, and inventory programs. Throughout the refuge, the FWS assesses the potential impacts of proposed uses and activities.

Research on refuge fish and wildlife populations and habitats is important to increase our knowledge of the resources and our understanding of the effects of human disturbance on fragile Arctic and sub-Arctic environments. Research on a variety of topics (i.e., fisheries, wildlife, climate, geology, and water resources) has been ongoing for several years in conjunction with other international, federal, state, and private organizations. The research is permitted using only the minimum action or equipment necessary to successfully, safely, and practically accomplish the objectives.

Although the FWS allows any recreation that is compatible with the purposes of the refuge, it encourages and supports those activities that are dependent on and do not diminish the area's wilderness character. Visitors from around the country and the world are drawn by the refuge's scenery, wildlife, and pristine environment to float rivers, hike, hunt, and participate in other wildlife and wilderness-oriented activities. These activities are concentrated along the rivers, which have a limited number of access sites. Managers work to minimize the adverse effects of this concentrated use on refuge resources, wilderness qualities, and users through public use permits, monitoring activities, and law enforcement. Efforts are taken, however, to direct and manage public use activities using only the minimum amount of regulation required.

The FWS believes that public involvement and education are important aspects of refuge management. Managers therefore work with local residents, users, and interested parties to promote an understanding of related wildlife and wildlands issues to help resolve conflicts pertaining to refuge management, subsistence, and public use. The Arctic Refuge is one of the finest natural areas in the United States. As the nation's most promising on-shore oil and gas prospect, it may also contain a world-class oil reserve. This fact, combined with America's dependence on foreign oil, has focused attention on the refuge, generating a large amount of controversy. The central issue, discussed and debated for many years, is whether 1.5 million acres of the coastal plain (the 1002 area) should be developed for oil or formally designated as wilderness. The answer to this question probably rests more on the public's social values than on specific biology and site impacts. The final decision, which rests with Congress, will likely focus on those values.

The refuge studies various wildlife populations and habitats to help ensure that they remain healthy and to warn management if species numbers decline or resource damage occurs. Surveys of caribou, Dall sheep, musk-ox, and moose are

143


The coastal plain ofthe refuge is a strip of rolling tundra between the Beaufort Sea and the Brooks Range. About 75 percent of that land constitutes the 1002 area. The ANILCA directed the Department of Interior to conduct a baseline fish and wildlife resource study ofthe 1002 area. Most of the research programs noted earlier are a direct result of that mandate. The department was also directed to initiate and monitor an oil and gas exploration program, which occurred in 1984 and 1985, and to prepare a "Report to Congress." This report was to describe the fish and wildlife resources of the 1002 area, estimate its potential hydrocarbon resources, assess the potential impacts of development, discuss the national need for oil and gas, and recommend whether further exploration, development, and production of oil and gas should occur. The report was submitted to Congress in April 1987; it recommended that the 1002 area be fully leased.

relationship between the wolf, the caribou, and the land continues as it has for centuries, providing people with unparalleled opportunities to experience pristine wilderness and the wildlife it supports. An increasing number of people are seeking that experience. Many others from around the world vicariously enjoy and value this remote and beautiful area--through the media, first-hand accounts, and the writings of others. The Fish and Wildlife Service is honored and proud to manage such a superb natural area. It is an exciting and challenging responsibility that we take seriously and enjoy immensely. AUTHOR

David Olsen USDI Fish and Wildlife Service Washington, DC 20240

Many complex and difficult issues would be involved with a decision to drill for oil on the refuge. They include such things as what environmental protection measures would be needed, how would the plant and animal populations respond to habitat changes, what effects would drilling have on the local native populations, how would development affect management of the area, who would pay the costs, how would leasing options be awarded, and who would receive the revenues? Current law forbids energy leasing on the refuge. Development proponents have argued that oil from the refuge could be produced safely and that development would protect the nation's energy markets from recurring world crises, particularly in the Middle East. Wilderness advocates believe that the refuge's balanced ecosystem is more valuable intact, especially because any oil would provide no lasting energy security. The debate is not expected to end soon. When it does, Congress will have the difficult job of deciding the future of the 1002 area and the refuge. Controversy notwithstanding, the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge is truly a remarkable place. Here, the balance of nature still prevails. The 144


WILDERNESS RIVER MANAGEMENT IN ALASKA JACK MOSBY

DESIGNATED FEDERAL AND STATE RIVERS IN ALASKA

Alaska—The Last Frontier! The land ofunpaddled and untouched natural rivers without equal. Where thousands of stream kilometers await to entice the visitor to an outdoor experience unparalleled anywhere in the world! Sound familiar to the advertisements about visiting Alaska? While you can still experience wilderness rivers in Alaska, they are becoming harder to find.

Following passage of the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA) in 1980, 25 stream segments were added to the National Wild and Scenic Rivers (WSR) System. They are classified into three categories as wild, scenic, and recreational, depending on the amount of development along the river corridor. Two streams have all three classification categories. They total about 5,177 kilometers (3,210 miles). In Alaska, the wild segments total 4,766 kilometers (2,955 miles) or 56 percent of total wild rivers in the WSR System. (See Table 1.)

There are an estimated 1.8 million kilometers (1. 1 million miles) of streams in Alaska. If each stream was laid end to end, they would encircle the Earth about 44 times. This is equivalent to about one third of the estimated 5.3 million kilometers (3.2 million miles) in the continental United States.

Scenic segments total 447 kilometers (227 miles) or 10 percent ofthe total scenic rivers in the WSR System. Recreational segments total 45 kilometers (28 miles) or 0.9 percent of the total recreational rivers in the WSR System. They are located throughout the state from the Aleutian Peninsula to the North Slope. (See Table 2.) Managed by the USDI Bureau of Land Management (BLM), USDI Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS), and USDI National Park Service (NPS), they represent almost one third of the total mileage in the National WSR System. Each corridor has management directions specified either through a river management plan or that of the

Imagine traveling several thousand kilometers to "have an Alaskan river experience by yourself"' only to find you must experience it with a dozen or even a hundred others. Unfortunately, this is becoming more common in an area that just a decade or two ago had almost no people congestion in the backcountry. Although Alaska has, it seems, an almost unlimited supply of streams for recreation, most ofthe use is concentrated on only a few dozen rivers. Several of these streams have native communities located along them. They have also been used for thousands of years as part of a subsistence lifestyle.

Table 1. Number of Alaskan seg m ents in the National Wild and Scenic River System. Wild^

Scenic^

Recreational

25 (56%)^2 (10%)^2 (0.9%)

Note: Percent of the WSR System is shown in parentheses.

145


broader conservation system unit plan of which the river is a part. Only eight stream segments (Alatna, Andreafsky—main stem and East Fork, Noatak, John, Koyukuk—North Fork, Kobuk, Mulchatna, and Sheenjek—upper) and two complete river systems (Tinayguk and Tlikakila) are within designated wilderness areas. Several other rivers are within or next to areas recommended for wilderness designation (Alagnak, Aniakchak, Charley, Ivishak, Salmon, and Wind). The six rivers managed by the BLM remain outside of areas presently being recommended for wilderness designation (Beaver Creek, Birch Creek, Delta, Fortymile, Gulkana, and Unalakleet). The ANILCA significantly modified the Wilderness Act of 1964 with over 20 changes designated for Alaska. Chief among those modifications were the provisions for allowing airplanes, motorboats, and snow machines access to and through the Alaskan conservation system units. Subsistence activities (by local rural residents) such as hunting, fishing, trapping, and gathering (including the cutting of firewood and house logs by permit) were also allowed to continue. Allowance for temporary motorized access to state or private lands across conservation system units was granted. The establishment, operation, and maintenance of new navigation aids was also granted. The ANILCA allowed for new public use cabins to be constructed, but only for reasons of public health and safety. Federal management regulations do not apply to state or private lands within the conservation system units, furthering the need to work closely with those owning land within or adjacent to river corridors. Six streams were designated by the Alaska legislature as state recreational rivers in 1988. They total about 465 stream miles and are all located in south central Alaska, west and north of Anchorage. These include Alexander Creek and Lake, Deshka River (including Moose* and Kroto* Creeks), Lake Creek, Chulatna Lake, Little Susitna River,* Talachulitna Creek and River (including Judd Lake), and Talkeetna River* (including Clear Creek). The headwater portions of three of these (Lake Creek, Alexander Creek, and Talachulitna River) are free from motorized

boat use, but none are within any state-designated wilderness areas. Those streams marked with an asterisk (*) are accessible by road in at least one location, while the remainder are only accessible by plane or boat. It is also interesting to note the amount of use several un-designated rivers receive, such as Nenana River next to Denali National Park and Mendenhall River in Juneau. Each has 20,000 to 30,000 visitors during the short 100-day summer tourist season. RIVER MANAGEMENT PLANNING IN ALASKA First attempts at Alaskan river management were done so indirectly. A lottery system at the state's McNeil River State Game Sanctuary was instituted in 1973 to protect the annual gathering of brown bears at McNeil Falls. The lottery allowed 10 people per day to visit the falls area. At Denali National Park, a backcountry permit system was designed in the 1970s to allow use to a limited number of groups (two to six) in 40 separate zones throughout the park's backcountry. (This area later became designated wilderness.) Following passage ofthe ANILCA in 1980, there was a marked increase in river management planning. In 1982, an interim management plan for the Alsek River in Glacier Bay National Park was approved to protect "a quality wilderness experience" as directed by the U.S. Congress. This management plan was later finalized in 1989. In 1983, the NPS completed a management plan for Alagnak River in and near Katmai National Park. The same year, the BLM also completed management plans for the six WSR rivers they manage. In 1984, the Alaska Legislature established the Kenai River Special Management Area due to concerns about the rapid growth in sport fisheries, including the guiding industry and shoreline settlement. The stream management plan was completed in 1986 in cooperation with the Kenai Peninsula Borough. A carrying capacity study is currently underway for the river corridor. 146


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In 1987, the BLM completed its in-stream flow recommendations for Beaver Creek; and in 1989, the state awarded specific flows on a monthly basis at three locations along the river for protection of fish and wildlife habitat, migration, and propagation, recreation and park purposes, and navigation and transportation purposes.

of commercial versus private use, amount of commercial use, camping methods, means of access, and information and education. Some specific management objectives are proposed. For 10 state streams, the Alaska Department of Fish and Game has reserved necessary instream flows to protect the fisheries resources. Fortythree additional instream flow reservations, including one for a lake stage, have been filed with the state. There are also two applications by private groups pending, as Alaska is one of the few states that allows private individuals to file for instream flow reservations. Supporting recreation instream flow needs information has been completed for the six Alaska recreation rivers, but the DNR has not yet filed for an instream flow reservation.

In the late 1980s, the State ofAlaska also asserted that most of the state's rivers were navigable and, therefore, under state jurisdiction. However, their lack of staff as well as a field presence or citation authority requires them to work towards partnerships with the upland land managers to adequately manage these waters. In 1990, the BLM completed a six-year study of instream flow recommendations and an instream flow application to the State of Alaska for the WSR Gulkana River. In the same year, due to concerns about potential conflicts between subsistence use and increasing recreational use in the Bristol Bay region, the Alaska Department of Natural Resources (DNR) and Department of Fish and Game and Bristol Bay Coastal Resource Service Area developed a management plan for the Nushagak and Mulchatna rivers. In 1991, the FWS and the State of Alaska jointly completed a public use plan for management of public uses occurring on lands and waters within the boundaries of Togiak National Wildlife Refuge. Also in 1991, the Alaska DNR completed an overall management plan for their six recreation rivers. The plan identified different management strategies for 31 separate river subunits. They vary depending on the amount of development, natural resources, public access, land ownership, and public use. Each subunit contains a statement of management intent, guidelines, and proposed subunit regulations to implement the plan. The regulations are expected to be completed by the end of 1993. During the summer of 1993, the FWS released a draft river management plan for rivers within the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. Major issues addressed in the draft plan include maintenance of wilderness qualities, amount of use, allocation

As one can see, most Alaskan river management planning has occurred only in the past four years. The early river management plans were to be completed as a result of the ANILCA. Most of the earlier plans said little about setting management goals, objectives, standards, monitoring, or reserving sufficient instream flows. None set implementation target dates or priorities or made any attempt to connect plan implementation to the river managers' annual performance standards.

RECOMMENDATIONS FOR FUTURE RIVER MANAGEMENT EFFORTS As stewards of the public trust, our primary responsibility is to continue the protection and conservation of the riverine resource or resources that cause a stream corridor to be part of a national or state system or an attraction to the public. I believe we must be proactive in our stream management activities, trying to anticipate what may happen in the way of public use and impacts and identify what steps management should take when they occur. The development of Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC), Carrying Capacity, Visitor Impact Management, or other approaches should be utilized in all river management plans. We should not be reactive with the attitude of "don't fix it unless it's broken." Trying to correct a situation after it becomes a problem is not good land stewardship. 149


biotic movements (plant or animal). An example is the Tatshenshini and Alsek River corridors in western Canada and southeastern Alaska, soon to be one of the largest protected natural areas in the world. Stream corridors have and continue to play an important part in cultural events such as the Klondike and Alaskan Gold Rush period of the late 1890s and early 1900s. First as a native trade route for thousands of years and later as the much-publicized route to the gold fields, the majority of the trail to the Klondike was across water with only 33 miles across land. Such a corridor could stretch from Seattle up the inland passage of western British Columbia and southeastern Alaska, over Chilkoot Trail, and down almost the entire length of the Yukon River through Canada and Alaska to Nome.

Management Plans Management plans should be prepared early in the process of designating or managing a stream course. The plans need to anticipate the unexpected and specify a management response and not wait until there are problems. The plans should include a process to revise or add amendments through a public process. River Management Goals and Objectives As part of the development of the management plan, there must be established management goals and objectives for the corridor or corridor segments that are achievable and that management can use to articulate what they are managing towards (Shelby, 1992). A determination should be made as to whether the entire corridor will be managed the same or will individual stream segments be managed differently to meet the stated goals and objectives and provide for resource protection.

Water Rights Section 13(c) of the WSR Act recognizes the existence of reserved water rights on the date each river component is added to the system by Congress. For federal rivers, the BLM has taken the initiative with completion of its water rights assessment for Beaver Creek National Wild River. For the NPS, even if a stream is determined navigable with the bed of the stream and water column owned by the state, the NPS still has a responsibility to manage waters with a park unit following the provisions oftheWSRAct [Section 13(d)], ANILCA (Sections 101, 201, and Title 6), and the U.S. Code [Title 16, Sections 1(a), 2(h), and 1(c)].

River Management Standards Whittaker (1992) suggests four reasons for setting standards to focus on and help define: 1) "the desired future conditions and allow managers to be proactive"; 2) "the quality of recreation opportunities and recreation environments instead of numbers of users"; 3) "the experience being provided in an area"; and 4) the professional planning efforts and "can help prioritize funding for further management efforts."

Cooperation with Adjoining Landowners and the Public

Instream Flow Reservations A process or strategy to reserve sufficient instream flows to protect river values and provide for public use should be identified in management plans. A time frame to obtain necessary flow and resource information along with public preferences should also be identified in the plans. Identification of Heritage River Corridors If the stream corridor is part of a broader natural or cultural theme, this role must be identified. These corridors play an important role in natural

Most rivers do not conveniently flow across just one owner's property, but usually flow through a combination of private, state, and federal lands. Those developing river management plans must work cooperatively with their adjoining landowners, and those that live or use the area, for successful conservation and protection of the riverine resources. The development of cooperative agreements is essential, especially where rivers are determined navigable and the bed is owned by the state and possibly available for 150


mining or other activities that might impair river values. Developing a public constituency that understands and supports proactive river management is also necessary if we hope to maintain these important riverine values for future generations. The public seldom makes a distinction between agencies. They will be better served if we cooperate and, to the extent feasible, develop similar river management policies.

of a dwindling public resource and an important outdoor recreation opportunity. REFERENCES

Bane, R. 1993. Personal communication. Ester, C. 1992. Annual summary of Alaska Department of Fish and Game instream flow reservation applications. Fishery Data Series 92-45. Anchorage: Alaska Department of Fish and Game, Division of Sport Fish.

Personnel Exchanges Another area of cooperation will be the exchange or detailing of specialists with specific resource expertise from a variety of organizations who may be needed by another agency or organization to start or complete river conservation or protection efforts. These specialists may include those with backgrounds or experience in the development or preparation of instream flow data, monitoring programs, public involvement, carrying capacity, LAC procedures, GIS, GPS, and river allocations systems.

Shelby, B., G. Stankey, and B. Shindler. 1992. Defining wilderness quality: The role of standards in wilderness management. In: Proceedings of the workshop on Defining Wilderness Quality—The Role of Standards in Wilderness Management. General Technical Report PNW-305. Portland, Ore.: USFS, Pacific Northwest Research Station. State ofAlaska Department ofNatural Resources. 1990. Nushagak and Mulchatna Rivers Recreation Management Plan. Anchorage: Alaska DNR, Division of Land and Water.

Monitoring the Riverine Resources and Human Use Impacts

Both the state and federal rivers acts call for protection of the riverine resources. However, few of the existing rivers in the national system in Alaska are monitored on a systematic basis. Management needs to be prepared to take action before a problem gets out of hand, not after the damage has occurred.

—. 1991. Susitna Basin Recreation Rivers Management Plan. Anchorage: Alaska DNR, Division of Land and Water. USDI Bureau of Land Management. 1983. River Management Plans for Beaver and Birch Creeks and Delta, Gulkana, Fortymile, and Unalakleet Rivers. Anchorage and Fairbanks: BLM district offices.

River Manager Accountability

Lastly, and most importantly, the management goals and objectives, as well as the standards outlined above, must become a part of managers' annual performance standards. These would include an annual accomplishment report to supervisors, and more significantly, review by the public on how managers are implementing the plans and protecting an important public resource (Bane, 1993).

. 1987. Water rights assessment for Beaver Creek National Wild River. General Technical Report BLM/YA/PT-87/ 014+7200. Lakewood, Colo.: BLM, Division of Resources. —. 1990. Resource values and instream flow recommendations: Gulkana National Wild River. General Technical Report BLM/YA/ PT-90/002+7200. Denver: BLM, Denver Service Center.

There is no magic cure. Only the dedication of time, dollars, and staff will lead to the protection 151


USDI National Park Service. 1983. Alagnak Wild River Management Plan: Katmai National Park and Preserve. —. 1989. Alsek River Visitor Use Management Plan: GlacierBayNational Parkand Preserve. —.1991. Togiak Public Use Management Plan: Togiak National Wildlife Refuge. —.1993. Arctic River Management Plan: Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. In preparation. Whittaker, D., and B. Shelby. 1992. Developing good standards: Criteria, characteristics, and sources. In: Proceedings of.workshop on Defining Wilderness Quality—The Role of Standards in Wilderness Management. General Technical Report PNW-305. Portland, Ore.: USFS, Pacific Northwest Research Station. AUTHOR Jack Mosby Alaska Regional Office USDI National Park Service 2525 Gambell Street Anchorage, AK 99503-2892

152


APPLYING THE HARVEST REFUGIA CONCEPT IN MANAGING FOR SUSTAINABLE SUBSISTENCE USES IN WILDERNESS AREAS GARY DAVIS ALAN SCHMIERER

At the United Kingdom's 40th National Parks Symposium, Professor Martin Holdgate asserted:

wilderness precludes extractive activities of any sort. This discussion paper will center on the question of whether subsistence use of marine fisheries in wilderness is tenable, and under what circumstances.

If we treat our national parks, nature reserves, and protected areas as islands set aside from human use, they will come under increasing attack and be at risk of submergence in a human sea (Holdgate, 1989).

WHAT IS SUBSISTENCE USE? Webster's Third New International Dictionary (1976) indicates subsistence or subsisting is "enabling a noble action to subsist as it did in nature." It also states these terms to mean "to have existence; to be or remain alive" and "to persist; to continue."

This assertion succinctly states the underpinnings of our contention that harvest refugia must be designated worldwide, if we are to preserve marine wilderness and sustain traditional, subsistence lifestyles and customs.

The eminent cultural geographer Carl Sauer suggested that subsistence use entails the nurturing of family or a small group through the selfregulated gathering of food, clothing, and shelter from surrounding natural resources (Sauer, 1963). Such self-support has long been practiced by many diverse peoples (e.g., food gatherers, cultivators, pastoral nomads, and other peoples) who had the knowledge, social organization, and motivation to successfully employ it (Forde, 1963).

CAN PROTECTED MARINE WILDERNESS AND SUBSISTENCE USES COEXIST? Condition and trend in many coastal, island, and marine wilderness and other protected areas provide classic examples of the harsh reality of Garrett Hardin's "tragedy of the commons." Overall harvest of marine life is one of the few remaining extractive activities worldwide where participants are not compelled to sustain or restore the environment wherein their profits are generated. Today, marine ecosystems are subject to ever greater alteration or depletion through both managed exploitation and uncontrolled access. Disturbing naturally stable population dynamics leads to community instability and possibly ecosystem collapse, even where modern conservation and resource management efforts are currently practiced. Globally, regionally, and locally, fisheries' harvest activities may be categorized as traditional, orsubsistence, and modernized, orextractive. It goes without saying that properly managing

In the United States, the crucible for forging concepts about subsistence use and appropriate policies for managing such activities has been Alaska. Native peoples have resided in the diverse Alaskan landscape for well in excess of 10,000 years; upon contact with the West and East, over 70,000 Native Americans are thought to have been inhabiting these northern climes (Ulvi, 1993). Many peoples congregated along relatively rich coastal margins and interior river bottoms. Through many generations these Native Americans fished, hunted, and subsisted, developing unique adaptations to aid their living and prospering in harsh sub-Arctic and Arctic homelands (Forde, 1963; Hall, 1987; Haycox, 1991; and Wolfe, 1990). 153


The long and direct self-support relationship early native Alaskans have had with their land was a self-sustaining linkage, founded on an innate understanding of inherent limits of fragile resources. Today, many of their descendants depend upon this cultural heritage, for the most part maintaining their land and life through reliance upon proven customs and practices. Perhaps the native Alaskans also did not test limits of fragile resources because they believed that ever since the distant time, the landscape, animals, plants, and even weather were empowered by ancestral spirits. The environment was both a natural and supernatural realm, and through custom and tradition it was held inviolate. Anderson et al. (1977) noted that one venerable Gates of the Arctic inhabitant explained that usually "outsiders consider this region a wilderness. In fact, it is not a wilderness and has not been for millennia. It is an occupied land, supportive of a people who and a culture that have grown out of it. To the Eskimos, the Kobuk River valley is a thoroughly known, elaborately named mosaic of recognized places and features, each with a long history of human occupancy, utilization, and personal associations." These ethnographers also recorded observations that spectacular and serene wilderness landscapes, extolled as such by National Park visitors, hold "no immediate spectre of starvation. But for the Eskimo, beauty comes not from the artistry of the landscape, but from its promise of richness and activityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;its ability to reward the quest for food. Land is not just something to be viewed in the abstract, it is a place to pursue the activities that people love" (Anderson et al., 1977). The substance, if not the specifics, of these two brief Alaskan vignettes have been repeatedly observed, from U.C. Berkeley anthropologists closely studying the Kipsigi Tribe in Africa to prominent geographers broadly conferring in the seminal treatise, "Man's Role in Changing the Face of the Earth." Many peoples have subsisted worldwide. (Others, of course, have had deleterious impacts.) That is, they have long lived fully and harmoniously within the renewable capacity of the land and its resources to support them. Such peoples know the environment can provide succor; that it is not to be used up nor its capabil-

ity to support life extracted. The wealth of customs and practices evolved among diverse peoples to avert degrading their natural resources from rich cultural heritages, such as those celebrated in September, 1993, at the International Reindeer Peoples Festival in Tromso, Norway. SUBSISTENCE MUST BE SUSTAINED TO BE RECONCILED WITH PRESERVATION In Alaska, during the early 1960s, various efforts to preserve cultural heritage stimulated state advancement of notions of subsistence priority, as the fledgling state grappled with preserving its timeless Native Alaskan heritage of delicately living within the limits of the land. In turn, dissatisfaction of the non-native majority with such preferences culminated in a 1989 Alaska Supreme Court ruling, "McDowell verses Alaska," that the subsistence priority violated equal access and other state mandated rights. The state policy to preserve its heritage was set back (Loaner, 1984; and Ulvi, 1993). Asa result, today in the United States, most of the pro-active management of subsistence uses and related activities is undertaken by the federal government. The 1988 National Park Service Management Policies are succinct on subsistence use, permitting such activities only where they are specifically mandated by federal laws, and only if "managed so that the composition, condition, and distribution of native plant and animal communities and ecosystem dynamics are not significantly affected (8.16)." This goal is embellished upon in theNPS Natural Resources Management Directive NPS-77 (3.89-96), which calls for inventorying resources and monitoring their trend and status, so as to ensure that any subsistence uses that are allowed to occur do not adversely impact their derivative resources. Consumptive uses that are non-wasteful or non-detrimental to other resources are allowed. In other words, to be allowed in a park, subsistence uses must be sustainable. Harkening back to Webster, such noble uses are actions noteworthy for their allowing lifestyles and resources each to persist and continue harmoniously. It is suggested that these standards for allowing subsistence uses can also be brought to bear in 154


In the marine environment, true wilderness areas that are actively protected from extractive use and other human disturbances are virtually unknown. Worldwide, many marine areas have been designated as marine sanctuaries and reserves, but few of them prohibit extractive resource uses. California is typical; out of more than 100 national, state, and locally protected marine parks and reserves, only 10 areas prohibit all harvest. (Of those, six are less than 20 hectares in size.) Numerous areas, such as California Channel Islands, that once served as de facto marine wilderness through depth or distance from port are now subject to heavy external developments and extractive uses.

advancing the international cause for wilderness and other protected areas.

ROLE OF HARVEST REFUGIA IN SUSTAINING SUBSISTENCE USES Marine fisheries and many related harvested and unharvested community associates in kelp forests, sand beaches, estuaries, coral reefs, sea grass beds, and the benthos are collapsing worldwide under traditional management schemes. Classic signs of extractive harvest widely reported include declines in total landings and catch per unit effort, declines in the size of fish caught, and shifts to other species and areas following declines and recruitment failures (i. e., serial depletions).

Terrestrial parks, reserves, and wilderness areas that restrict economic development and other exploitive uses have been widely established to conserve biodiversity throughout the world. In contrast, the concepts of marine fishery refugia and marine %wilderness have received relatively little attention, in part because ofa lack ofinformation on the efficacy of marine reserves in protecting and enhancing marine resources. Such strategies to protect marine fisheries and provide for truly sustainable fishery harvest are in critical need. Marine fishery refugiaâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;areas unaltered by harvest and ensuring sources of replenishmentâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;offer three hopes: 1) stabilizing or recovering marine fisheries yields, 2) sustaining subsistence uses, and 3) preserving marine and coastal wilderness values.

National parks and refuges are not exempt. Legal harvesting of marine fish and invertebrates occurs in 35 parks. In Channel Islands National Park, fishery harvest has contributed to the collapse and decline of marine fisheries and communities in the park waters. Results from the marine monitoring and research programs point to the severe degradation of entire marine communities and the declines of populations of important marine species within the park (Dugan, 1992). Most refuges lack jurisdiction over submerged lands in and adjacent to them. In Breton Wilderness Wildlife Refuge (Louisiana), Florida Keys Wilderness Wildlife Refuge (Florida), and many other USDI Fish and Wildlife Service units, most management problems are associated with human activities in the surrounding waters where the service has no jurisdiction (Saul, 1992). Conventional fishery management regimes based on single species with maximum sustained yields, seasonal closures, and size or access limits have not aided recovery of depleted fisheries. Striving to manage marine fisheries with these techniques usually result in reduced proportions of virgin biomass of the fished stock, and these populations often lack larger individuals. Such depleted fish stocks may be unable to recover from continued extractive fishing, especially when combined with human-induced perturbations and natural environmental variation.

SOME EXAMPLES OF HARVEST REFUGIA With support from the Man and Biosphere program, information has been collected regarding the efficacy of known harvest-protected areas; and subsequently, design considerations for establishing harvest refiigia are being developed (Davis and Dugan, 1993). Although most existing reserves were not designed for fishery management purposes, evidence from studies of existing marine parks and reserves indicates that positive effects of increased abundance, individual mean size, reproductive potential, and species diversity occurred in small protected areas in marine communities ranging from coral 155


reefs to kelp forests. In the few cases where fishery yield data were available, yields increased in areas surrounding reserves. In South Africa, marine reef fish abundance and size structure was compared for Tsitsikamma Coastal National Park (where fishing is prohibited) and regularly fished sites nearby (Buxton and Smale, 1989). All sites were fished prior to 1964, when the Park was established. Sampling indicated that fish were more abundant, and average size class and maximum fish size were both greater within the protected area. These results suggest that establishing refugia that are protected from harvest is a viable option for recovering exploited species. Similar findings for increased abundance and/or size class were noted in Scandola Nature Reserve, a fishingrestricted portion of Corsican Regional National Park (Francour, 1991); in Leigh Marine Reserve in New Zealand (McCormick and Choat, 1987); in Archipelago de los Roques National Park in Venezuela (Weil and Laughlin, 1984); in LoeKey Reef Reserve in Florida (Clark et al., 1989), and elsewhere. Perhaps most telling is the experience at Sumilon Island in Philippines, where some 25 percent of associated sub-tidal reef was protected from all fishing for 10 years (Alcala and Russ, 1990). Roughly 100 fishermen plied adjacent areas, fishing from hand-paddled boats. In 1984, protection of the sub-unit ceased. With no increase in the numbers of fishermen now entering the formerly protected sub-unit, there was rapid reduction in the abundance of caesionids, carangids, and scombridsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;fishes that formerly constituted the majority ofthe fishery yield. Most significant, the fishery yield in the no longer fished areas adjacent to the formerly protected sub-unit also notably declined. The results suggest that protecting this sub-unit maintained high abundance of many fish and led to appreciably higher fishery yields to fishermen in areas outside the harvest refitgium. (This was probably due largely to emigration of adult caesionid fish.) Similar findings for increased yield in adjacent fishing areas were found in Japan, as much as three miles from a crab preserve that protected

merely 2 percent ofthe fishing grounds (Yamasaki and Kuwahara, 1989). Mark-recapture studies have demonstrated notable emigration of adults beyond harvest refugia established for pink shrimp in the Tortugas Sanctuary (Gitschlag, 1986); for spiny lobsters in Everglades National Park (Davis and Dodrill, 1989); and for various reef fish in southwestern Africa, the Mediterranean, and the Caribbean (Roberts and Polunin, 1991).

MINIMAL REFUGIA DESIGN CONSIDERATIONS Marine protected area designation in general, and harvest refugia in particular, entail much more specialized planning than terrestrial areas. The emigration of egg, larvae, or adult biomass required to replenish fishing grounds surrounding a harvest refugium, the elusive nature of spawning stock-recruitment relationships in many exploited species, and the need for refugia populations to be self-sustaining each add levels of complexity to design criteria. Moreover, many environmental factors, such as water quality, may change and not be readily detected. Harvest refugia design must also consider species' life histories and minimum viable population requirements in the context of oceanographic regimes and current patterns, as well as diverse socioeconomic factors. Further evaluating existing reserves and parks, such as those in coastal California, can help elucidate design criteria for harvest refugia. However, experimental refugia should also be established and investigated over suitable time spans to more fully resolve questions about adequate size, shape, and distribution of harvest refugia.

YES, PROTECTED MARINE WILDERNESS AND SUBSISTENCE USES MAY COEXIST Conserving marine resources by surrounding access-restricted, ecologically independent refugia with fishery harvest zones is a synergistic technique that's time has come. This could have the complementary benefits of maintaining or recovering fishery yields and stabilizing traditional communities dependent upon fishing. Such designations could provide a vital core of marine wilderness areas as well. As wilderness areas (or 156


possibly the core of such areas), harvest refugia may well preserve biodiversity and subsistence uses--which would be a sorely needed triumph for both natural and cultural values.

-., H. Kumpf, E. Hobson, G. Huntsman, K. Able, and S. Ralston. 1989. Report on the concept of marine wilderness. Fisheries 14:22-4.

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Hall, E., S. Gerlach, and M. Blackman. 1985. In the national interest: A geographically based study ofAnaktuvuk Pass Inupiat subsistence through time. Barrow, Alaska: North Slope Borough.

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McCormick, M., and J. Choat. 1987. Estimating total abundance ofa large temperate-reef fish using visual strip-transects. Mar. Biol. 96:469-78. 158


Nash, R. 1981. Tourism, parks, and the wilderness idea in the history of Alaska. Alaska Perspective Series 4(1). Nelson, R., K. Mauntner, and G. Bane. 1978. Tracks in the wildland: A portrayal of Koyukon and Nunamiut subsistence. In: Anthropology and Historic Preservation. Cooperative Park Studies Unit, University of Alaska, Occasional Paper 9. Pauly, D. 1979. Theory and management of tropical multi-species stocks: A review, with emphasis on southeast Asian Dermersal fisheries. ICLARM Studies and Reviews 1:1-35. ., and C. Thia-Eng. 1988. The over-fishing of marine resources: Socioeconomic background in southeast Asia. Ambio. 17(3):200-6. Polacheck, T. 1990. Year-around closed areas as a management tool. Nat. Res. Modeling. 4(3):327-55. Pryde, D. 1971. Nunaga: Ten years of Eskimo life. New York City: Crown Publishers. Rice, M., C. Hickox, and I. Zehra. 1989. Effects of intensive fishing effort on the population structure of Quahogs,Mercenaria ( Linnaeus, 1758), in Narragansett Bay. J. Shellfish Res. 8(2):345-54. Roberts, C., and N. Polunin. 1991. Are marine reserves effective in management of reef fisheries? Fish Biology and Fisheries 1:65-91. Russ, G. 1985. Effects of protective management on coral reef fishes in the Central Philippines. In: Proceedings ofthe 5th International Coral Reef Congress (Tahiti). -. 1989. Distribution and abundance of coral reef fishes in the Sumilon Island Reserve, central Philippines, after nine years of protection from fishing. Asian Marine Biology 6:59-71.

-., and A. Alcala. 1989. Effects of intense fishing pressure on and assemblage of coral reef fishes. Marine Ecology Progress Series. 56:13-27. Saim, R. 1983. Coral reefs of the western Indian Ocean: A threatened heritage. Ambio. 12(6):34-53. Sauer, C. 1939. Man in nature: America before the days of the white men. New York City: Scribner's. 1963. Land and life. Berkeley: University of California Press. Saul, S. 1992. Coastal wilderness island management: No island is an island. In: Proceedings of the 4th National Interagency Wilderness Conference (Portland, Or). Serchuk, F., and R. Smolowitz. 1990. Ensuring fisheries management dysfunction: The neglect of science and technology. Fisheries 15(2):4-7. Shafer, C. 1990. Island biogeography and design of nature reserves. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institute Press. Sissenwine, M. 1984. Why do fish populations vary? In: Exploitation of Marine Communities, Dahlem Konferenzen (Berlin), ed. R. May. Springer-Verlag 367:59-94. Smith, E., and T. Johnson. 1989. The marine life refuges and reserves of California. Marine Resources Information Bulletin. 1:1-63. Smith, E. 1984. Inuit ofthe Canadian eastern Arctic. Cultural Survival Quarterly. 8(3):32-7. Soule, M., and D. Simberloff. 1986. What do genetics and ecology tell us about design of nature reserves? Biol. Cons. 35:19-40. Soule, M. 1987. Viable populations for conservation. New York City: Cambridge University Press. 159


Thomas, W. 1956. Man's role in changing the face of the Earth. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Ulvi, Steve. 1993. Subsistence uses and native Alaskan perceptions in wilderness. In: Proceedings of the 5th National Interagency Wilderness Conference (Tucson, Ariz.). Walters, C., and C. Holling. 1990. Large scale management experiments and learning by doing. Ecology 71(6):2060-8. Weil, M., and R. Laughlin. 1984. Biology, population dynamics, and reproduction of the Queen Conch, Strombus gigas, Linne in the Archipelago de los Roques. Jour. Shellfish Res. 4(1):45-62. Wolfe, R., and R. Bosworth. 1990. Subsistence in Alaska: A summary. Anchorage: Alaska Department of Fish and Game. Woodley, S., and P. Ottesen. 1992. Large marine ecosystems and marine protected areas: Information for managing the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park. The George Wright Forum 9(3 and 4):138-47. Yamasaki, A., and A. Kuwahara. 1989. Preserved area to effect recovery of over-fished Zuwai Crab stocks off Kyoto prefecture. In: Proceedings of International Symposium on King and Tanner Crabs. AUTHORS

Gary Davis Western Regional Office USDI National Park Service 1901 Spinnaker Drive Ventura, CA 93001 Alan Schmierer Division of Natural Resources and Research Western Regional Office USDI National Park Service San Francisco, CA

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PROTECTED AREAS ON THE HIGH SEAS AND THE CASE FOR MARINE WILDERNESS MAXINE MCCLOSKEY

As we consider marine environments as potential protected areas, on the high seas and within Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs) of coastal nations, we must be mindful of the effects of harsh human hands on the land and take care in a timely fashion that those same wasteful and destructive practices are not imposed on the oceans. It is time to press for an international program with authority to establish a system of protected areas on the high seas. We need to develop criteria for selection and size, define activities to be prohibited or restricted, and establish a management and enforcement authority. The program should include wilderness.

hectares (USFS, 1993). Management regulations of these wilderness units prohibit roads, commerce, structures, and mechanical activities, with few exceptions. The Alaska national park units allow continuation of subsistence use. After passage of the 1964 Wilderness Act, the first reference to applying the concept of wilderness to coastal and high seas areas was contained in the recommendations ofa special U.S. Panel on Oceanography (President's Science Advisory Committee, 1966). The report says, in part: Establishment of a system of marine wilderness preserves [would be] an extension to marine environments of the basic principles established in the Wilderness Act of 1964 that would provide ecological baselines, preservation of unmodified habitats for research and education, and marine wilderness recreation.

The Commission on National Parks and Protected Areas of the World Conservation Union (IUCN) adopted a revised Framework for the Classification of Terrestrial and Marine Protected Areas, following the World Parks Congress in 1992. The entire range of categories of protected areas now applies to the marine environment as well as to the terrestrial environment. In addition, wilderness was added to category one, now named Scientific Reserves and Wilderness Areas.

Marine wilderness next appeared in 1967 in a paper given by Kenneth Norris at the 10th Biennial Wilderness Conference sponsored by the Sierra Club. His remarks concerned the near shore marine environment (Norris, 1969).

According to the U.S. Wilderness Act of 1964 (P.L. 88-577), wilderness is defined as: "A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the Earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain."

The Third World National Parks Congress, held in Bali, Indonesia, in 1982, and sponsored by the IUCN Commission on Parks and Protected Areas, devoted considerable time to exploring many aspects of coastal and marine environments, including legal, management, biological, economic, and recreational aspects (Salm, 1984).

Since enactment, the wilderness system has grown more than tenfold to 38,153,000 hectares in 553 units. Alaska has the most-22,964,000 hectares in 48 units. The largest is Alaska's Wrangell-St Elias National Park and Preserve of 3,631,470

A significant step towards the recognition of marine wilderness was taken at the 4th World Wilderness Congress, held in Colorado, United States, in 1987, and sponsored by the Interna-

161


tional Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation. A special workshop on ocean conservation recommended that each nation develop a system of marine protected areas that should include wilderness. The term was defined as:

on the planet for their own desires. Marine ecosystems have the same right to exist as do those on land. Furthermore, we don't know enough to assess what harm may be done by high levels of exploitation.

Marine areas where little or no evidence of human intrusion is present or permitted, so that natural processes will take place unaffected by human intervention.

Those values that are related to human considerations (e.g., aesthetic, spiritual, educational, and recreational) also apply to some marine habitats.

Wilderness values can apply to both the high seas and to the spaces within national EEZs. The oceans differ markedly from the lands, especially in that most ofthe living biomass is concentrated in the relatively narrow euphotic layer at the top and is drifting or swimming about in constant motion. On land, most of the biomass is at the bottom of the ocean of air and is relatively fixed to the substrate. There are fewer sharp boundaries at sea than on land. The water column is composed of layers at different depths that differ in temperature, salinity, oxygen content, nutrients, etc. These layers are in constant motion. On the high seas, all but the narrow photic layer are in total and perpetual darkness. Pollutants, as well as nutrients and other substances, can be carried over vast areas by the drifting and mixing mechanisms. On land, wilderness areas help to maintain the geophysical equilibrium, water and air quality. They serve as nurseries and refuges for wildlife, maintain biological diversity, and have scientific, moral, historic, aesthetic, spiritual, recreational, educational, social, and personal values. While all of these values can apply to marine environments, those dealing directly with the physical and biological attributes are the most compelling: scientific research, refugia for species, gene banks for diversity, and as controls against which to measure what is happening in non-wilderness areas.

On considering the potential for marine wilderness, our first thoughts are of extensions from the land (i.e., sea level or the wave-filled surface). But how can there be wilderness values on the ocean surface when the view from sea level, coastal promontories, or the air shows a flat sameness that changes mostly from changes in weather conditions and light? Storms, however, add exceptional drama. Except for birds and surface-dwelling marine mammals, sea turtles, and fields of sargassum, the exhilarating variety of life forms is masked, for the wonders are below the surface of the sea. Among other protection categories, there is potential for wilderness on the seabed--the continuation of land above sea level that becomes deeper as the distance from shore lengthens, finally dropping off the continental shelf. This extension of land underwaterâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;or submerged landâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;becomes more manageable from the standpoint of setting metes and bounds and limiting or prohibiting certain human activities. The healthy seabed, particularly in shallower areas, contains a great mix of plant and animal life that thrives on the nutrient-rich soup of the sea. Of interest also is the three-dimensional nature of the marine environment: People, animals, and plants can move about within it. People are much more aware of their movements underwater in a complex of biological activity within changing environments than they are when moving within air overlaying land. The water column also contains numerous species of plants and animals moving about in the currents. Some species are highly migratory, while others are dependent on the vital characteristics of more restricted areas such as food, temperature, salinity, and protection. Here are a

The moral arguments are just as compelling for ecosystems in the oceans. People don't have the right to manipulate every last hectare or resource 162


few examples ofthe kinds of marine features that merit protected status:

terrestrial wilderness. There is a ready example in a number of areas of Australia's Great Barrier Reef Marine Park, where regulations extend to 300 meters below seabed and 900 meters above sea level.

Open Seas and Coastal - Places of vast plankton blooms or vast swarms of krill; rooted sargassum beds and drifting mats; calving and feeding grounds of great whales; routes of highly migratory species; seabed areas of unusual scientific interest, such as at current convergence, tectonic rifts, geothermal vents, and deep trenches (the reverse of mountain peaks and ranges on land); and sea mounts that support rich biological communities.

Size, location, and sensitivity of the wilderness units would also dictate the degree of recreation permitted. Regulations consistent with terrestrial wilderness would prohibit the use of mechanized recreation equipment. Regulated sport fishing could be allowed. There should be restrictions on anchoring, especially in biologically rich coastal areas. Nature study and appreciation would continue and would be encouraged. High seas recreation would no doubt be limited to sailing.

Coastal - Nursery areas of great and small whales and other marine mammals; unusual seabed formations (e.g., mounts and canyons; areas where currents converge; areas of significant endemic populations; essential habitats of threatened or endangered species; nurseries for commercially valuable fish stocks; areas of exceptional biological diversity; areas of exceptional scenic values; representative areas; marine areas adjacent to protected areas on land; and submerged aquatic vegetation (seagrass) beds. There are at least three approaches to managing marine wilderness. The first would be a system similar to that for managing existing designated terrestrial wilderness. That is, there would be maximum restrictions on human activity on, above, and under the seabed, in the water column, and on the surface and should apply to commercial exploitation of living resources as well as to exploration or mining for oil or minerals. There should be no dumping, incineration, cable laying, energy development, dredging, or any other conceivable human exploitative use. Air over designated wilderness should be protected from pollution, just as attempts are made to prevent pollutants from drifting over designated

A second management scheme would provide fewer restrictions on the use of the overhead water column: The closer to the surface, the lesser the restrictions (i.e., comparable to restrictions in the air over terrestrial wilderness). The problem here is that the transmission efficiency of water is 800 times that of air. Anything done at the top of the water column is likely to affect the bottom. This system could be applicable only to the high seas where biological resources are fewer compared to those of the continental shelves. The third approach suggests that restriction of activities in a marine wilderness be tailored to the biological richness and diversity ofthe area, with the most stringent restrictions applied in those areas showing the greatest complexity (McConnaughey, 1989). For example, in identified rich photic areas, regulations should prohibit any human use except for benign research under permit and benign recreation. Less rich areas would allow some additional human uses. This type of management would be more suitable to photic zones ofthe continental shelves. However, there are other criteria besides richness and diversity. Some important communities that may not be rich biologically should still be reserved for wilderness, such as canyons and sea mounts. Representative areas ofabyssal plains would also be valuable. These might be areas analogous to desert on land, which certainly have their own recognized biotic and scenic values. New re163


search indicates a "surprising congruity in global-scale patterns of diversity between surface and deep-sea biotas" (Rex, 1993). Regardless ofwhich management approach would be adopted, the present internationally accepted right of free passage of merchant and military vessels would probably continue in effect. By contrast, Australia worked with the International Maritime Organization (IMO) to stop both shipping and fishing in one area of 3,000 square kilometers of the Great Barrier Reef considered to be a particularly sensitive area. Ship passage in designated wilderness needs thorough analysis and consultation with the IMO. Wilderness boundaries, as well as boundaries of other categories of protection, would be entered on all marine and air navigational charts. They could actually be marked on the seabed, although this may be impractical. Coastal nations have sovereign authority over their territorial sea (usually up to 12 miles seaward), and they can regulate all economic uses in the area between the territorial sea and the outer boundary of the 200-nautical-mile EEZ, except that passage of ships cannot be prohibited. It is clear that coastal nations now can establish marine wilderness areas and enforce regulations within the EEZ. A number of nations have already established programs for designation and management of marine protected areas within their territorial seas and the EEZ. These are called marine sanctuaries in the United States. However, a marine sanctuary is not wilderness as we know it. The largest marine area in the United States is Monterey Bay Marine Sanctuary along the central California coast. Established in 1992, it comprises 4,095 square nautical miles. Australia has many wilderness areas (called marine national park zones) in the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park, which covers an area of 345,000 square kilometers (140,000 square miles). All extractive activities and structures (except buoys) are prohibited. Australia has also established several preservation zones within the four sec-

tions ofthe Great Barrier Reef Marine Park. This is a strict designation, not even allowing benign recreation, so it is not exactly wilderness, as the term is usually understood. Adjacent coastal nations could agree to establish protected areas within their EEZs that contain shared special natural values. Examples would be extensive coral reefs, nurseries for valuable fish, nurseries and breeding grounds for marine mammals and birds, and routes of highly migratory species. The open or high seas is the second element in understanding jurisdiction. The problem is that no nation can regulate the uses of the high seas by others; a single nation can only regulate the activities of its citizens, corporations, and flag vessels. Two or more nations could, however, agree by treaty to regulate activities of their own nationals, corporations, and flag vessels on the high seas that they have agreed to designate for some protective status. The prohibitions on activities and enforcement would apply onlyto theirpeople. The United Nations (UN) could assume authority to study, plan, and recommend establishment of a global system of marine protected areas that should include wilderness. Such a program could be adopted by the member nations. However, this is easier said than done. The UN has already sponsored the Law of the Sea Treaty (LOS), which contains provisions that would allow the LOS International Seabed Authority to place parts of the high seas floor off-limits for minerals extraction if exploitation poses an environmental threat. After a dozen years, this convention is expected to go into effect in 1994 when the required 60 nations have ratified it. If the major powers do not ratify it, they will be unable to exert their influence on its administration. The close of the Cold War, and the realization that commercial exploitation of deep seabed minerals is many decades away, may influence them to ratify the convention. They should. Its presently limited provisions on protected areas could be amended to provide for a comprehensive program of marine protected areas. 164


Four previous actions by nations illustrate that combined efforts can protect the marine environment. The first is the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL), concluded in 1973. It aims to eliminate all intentional discharges of pollutants by vessels and reduce the risk of accidental discharges.

Animals (Bonn Convention) of 1979 applies to marine animals but does not require establishment of protected areas, although it refers to the necessity of protecting habitats. Many important coastal nations have yet to ratify this convention, including most of the countries of North and South America.

The weakness of this or any treaty agreement is that it only applies to those nations that have^2. The Regional Seas Program is ratified it and have taken steps to implement and sponsored by UN Environmental enforce it. The agreement has no enforcement Programme. A number of regional over nations that are not signatories. Companies seas have been established, but all that wish to avoid these restrictions can just are limited to nations' EEZs. These change their ship registrations to non-signatory conventions allow for protocols on countries. environmental protection, as was adopted by the Convention for the The second is the declaration of the Indian Ocean Protection and Development of the as a whale sanctuary by the International WhalMarine Environment of the Wider ing Commission and its new, endorsed concept, Caribbean Region. which would declare the circumpolar Southern Ocean south of 40 degrees S as a whale sanctuary 3. The UNESCO program on Biofor 50 years. sphere Reserves applies primarily to land. A recently designated bioThe third recent action was the adoption of four sphere reserve is the first to combine resolutions by the UN General Assembly (in ocean, island, coast, and land areas. 1989, 1990, 1991, and reaffirmed in 1992) that It is the Central California Coast all nations agree to a moratorium on all largeBiosphere Reserve of 340,000 scale pelagic drift net fishing on the high seas by hectares. Biosphere reserves are 31 December 1992. While the drift net moratomanaged by each country using its rium is now in effect, a number of pirate driftdomestic authorities. netters are operating in the Pacific Ocean and in the Mediterranean Sea. 4. The 1980 Convention on the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Fourth, in June, 1991, the eight Arctic nations Living Resources (held in May, agreed to adopt the Arctic Environmental Protec1980) is a landmark in international tion Strategy. It emphasizes the need to study and conservation law, as it takes an monitor the impact of pollution on fragile Arctic ecosystem approach, linking species ecosystems. Initially, its declaration did not exploitation to ecosystem conservainclude protected areas, but now there is a comtion. It includes a provision that the mitment to planning. Commission might designate special areas for protection and scientific Some additional existing international programs study, thus establishing reserves for offer limited opportunities for establishing proprotecting ecosystems, species or tected marine areas: habitats, even on the high seas. A protocol to the Antarctic Treaty was 1. The Convention on the Conservation signed on 4 October 1991 that bans of Migratory Species of Wild mining activity in the Antarctic 165


^ region for at least 50 years and ^already underway, which continues to occur on land. We must rally international energies to designates Antarctica as a "natural ^ convince nations and international agencies that reserve, devoted to peace and ^ the mysteries of the seas are worthy of protective science." Only five of the 26 ^ Consultative Parties have ratified programs. the protocol. REFERENCES The IMO, which regulates many 5. aspects of shipping and dumping Cicin-Sain, B., ed. 1992. Ocean governance: A from vessels, also has a program of new vision. Ocean Governance Study Group, identifying special areas and parCenter for the Study of Marine Policy, ticularly sensitive sea areas. It can Graduate College of Marine Studies, designate areas to be avoided for University of Delaware. safety and/or environmental protecEidsvik, H. 1988. Wilderness sanctuaries. In: tion (IMO, 1991). For the Conservation of Earth: Proceedings ofthe 4th World Wilderness Congress, ed. V. It is time to press for an international program Martin. Golden, Colo.: Fulcrum. with authority to establish a system of protected areas on the high seas and on the continental International Maritime Organization. 1991. shelves. At the same time that mapping, research, MEPC 31/21/Add.1, 22 July. inventorying, and technological developments for exploitation of marine environments move forJoint Group of Experts on the Scientific Aspects ward, there should also be development of criteria of Marine Pollution. 1990. The state of the and planning for designation and protective regumarine environment. UNEP Regional Seas lation of significant ecosystems and critical areas Reports and Studies 115. in the oceans. Such a scheme should include wilderness on and under the seabed, in the water Norris, K. 1969. The preservation of marine column, on the surface, and in the overhead air. wilderness. In: Wilderness and the Quality of Life: Proceedings ofthe 10th Annual Biennial There is a strong argument for giving priority to Wilderness Conference, eds M. McCloskey the continental shelves. They are much richer and J. Gilligan. San Francisco: Sierra Club. biologically and more severely impacted by human actions (GESAMP, 1990). In addition, it is President's Science Advisory Committee. 1966. easier for individual and adjacent nations to exert Effective use of the sea. the authority they already have. Rex, M., C. Stuart, R. Hessler, J. Allen, H. It is only a matter of time before the high seas Sanders, and G. Wilson. 1993. Global-scale receive the burden of human activities like the latitudinal patterns of species diversity in the continental shelves already do. Concerned people deep-sea benthos. Nature 365:636-9. must start learning more about the problems of USDA Forest Service. 1993. National Wilderness the high seas and searching for legal mechanisms Preservation System. Fact sheet. for addressing the problems on an international basis. The Ocean Governance Study Group AUTHOR recently said, " ... it is time for a new vision of ocean governanceâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a vision that looks at our Maxine McCloskey ocean as a whole and not solely at its discrete Program Policy Committee parts" (Cicin-Sain, 1992). Defenders of Wildlife 1244 19th Street NW People of the world cannot allow the same dimiWashington, DC nution of the viability of the world's oceans, 166


Proposed Marine Conservation Areas Proposed Arctic Ring of Life^ Shore leads and polynyas Marine Biocultural Reserve Bering Sea ecosystem

167


Part 3: Wilderness Management and Monitoring


WILDERNESS IN THE LANDSCAPE: A FIRE MANAGEMENT AND AIR QUALITY CASE STUDY SUSAN SATER

Today, in the Pacific Northwest, all federal agencies are being challenged to attain a much broader infusion of science into wilderness management. The role of wilderness and other reserves as a key control for comparison with managed lands will be increasingly important (USFS and other agencies, 1993; Everett, 1993; Swanson and Franklin, 1992; Overbay, 1992; and McCloskey, 1990). This paper explores how wilderness managers can meet this challenge, at least regarding fire management. Two primary concepts are emphasized: 1) Wilderness can and should be managed in the context of the surrounding landscape, and 2) both ecological and social or cultural factors must be considered. A case study from the Blue Mountains, located in the Pacific Northwest corner of the United States, is used to explore these concepts. Wilderness fire ecology and air quality issues are the focus. Although the case study centers on fire management in wilderness, the concepts illustrated could be applied to a much broader range of wilderness management issues. Should the goal for wilderness fire be to return to post-glaciation conditions? To prehistoric or historic conditions? To simply emphasize a return to fire regimes driven strictly by lightning ignitions? How much human interference with these regimes is acceptable to protect non-wilderness values? How much smoke in the air is acceptable? Inside wilderness? In adjacent landscapes and communities? What effects to human health from smoke are acceptable? How much reduction in visibility is acceptable? How can management of wilderness fire be best integrated into broader goals for restoration of ecosystem health? Who pays and who benefits? Who has a stake in the answers to these questions? These and many other questions must be addressed to establish goals for the desired future of fire in wilderness.

The Blue Mountains region is the name give to the landscapes of the northeastern corner of Oregon. Many say that the name for these mountains comes from the smoky haze that early settlers saw when they came into the area--a haze rarely seen today (a circumstance relevant to the subject matter of this paper). Maximum elevations range from about 2,100 to 2,900 meters. In the east, the region is bordered by the deep canyons of the Snake River, including the 2,133-meter deep Hell's Canyon. The region has a dry, continental climate. Precipitation varies from about 25 centimeters in lower elevations to as much as 203 centimeters in the highest mountain areas. In most years, about 70 percent of the annual precipitation occurs in the form of snow during November through April. The Blue Mountains region is too large to meet the definition ofa landscape as a distinct, measurable unit defined by a recognizable and spatially repetitive cluster of an interacting ecosystem, geomorphology, and disturbance regimes (Forman and Godron, 1986). It is more accurate to think of the region as a group of landscapes: high mountain peaks, ridges, and basins; mountainous mid-elevations; valleys and basins; and canyonlands and grasslands. Wilderness managers are charged with preserving and protecting natural ecosystems. It is often the case that we look back in time in order to investigate more natural conditions, to consider what things were like before the effects of modern human technology were so widespread as they are today. In the Blue Mountains, if you look back 100 years, you are considering historic times. That is, the time when European settlers came in large numbers and displaced tribal people who were already living in the area. These settlers found a landscape much altered due to the pres169


ence ofthe tribal people and their culture (Tucker, 1981; Cooper, 1960; and Gruel!, 1985). Whether or not to consider the environmental effects, particularly fire effects, of tribal cultures such as these as unnatural is something of a raging issue within the wilderness community in North America (e.g., Kilgore, 1 985a; Worf, 1985; Payne, 1985; Packard, 1993; and Christensen, 1988). It turns out that, in order to consider these and other issues, looking back might mean going back as far as the end ofthe last ice age or perhaps back as far as about 5,000 years ago when the plant communities and weather patterns now present in the Pacific Northwest region became established.

the region, and that these people did use fire, at least for campfires. More fire use could logically have resulted in an increase in forest fires over those caused by lightning alone (Reid etal. ,1990; and Biswell, 1973). What, then, do we know about the fire-adapted forests and grasslands of historic time, the legacy of the tribal people that European pioneers found when they began to settle in the Blue Mountains around 1850? In the grasslands and canyonlands during that time, perennial grasses were more dominant than they are today. Lush stands of bunch grass were widespread, as were communities dominated by green fescue (Fescue viridula) and Idaho fescue (Fescue idahoensis) (Shinn, 1980; and Agee, 1993).

Paleoecologists think that, although many of the species that are present today in the Blue Mountains region were present there (or nearby) during or just after the last glaciation, these species were not associated into the same plant communities that are present today (Barnosky et a!., 1987; Davis, 1981; and Brubaker, 1988). Even during the last 4,000 to 8,500 years, the temperature and precipitation regimes have been somewhat variable, and there have been responsive shifts in plant species and communities as a result (Barnosky, 1985; and Meringer and Wigand, 1987). About 4,000 to 5,000 years ago, the Blue Mountains region experienced warmer and more moist weather that it has since the previous glaciation; and not only did the plant communities come to resemble those we know today, the tribal people living in the region found their resource base increased, allowing for increases in human populations (Reid et a!., 1990; and Mack et al. 1978). These were hunting and gathering people, who did not practice agriculture (Aikens, 1993; and Reid et al., 1990). They did, however, use fire at least for cooking, probably for signaling, and perhaps to intentionally burn the grasslands and forests to increase resources that they valued (Shinn,1980; Arno,1985; Gruell,1985; Phillips, 1985; and Barrett, 1980). Whether or not these people intentionally set fires, anthropologists suggest that there were more people than ever in

Examples from the few fire disturbances that have occurred recently in the Blue Mountains, despite fire suppression actions, can be used to illustrate what historic fire disturbance and response might have been like in these grasslands. These examples are possible because of the work and monitoring efforts of Charley Johnson, a USDA Forest Service ecologist working in the Blue Mountains region. (See Johnson, 1993.) In grasslands, fire disturbances perpetuate the grassland matrix and also have important interactions with patches and corridors of vegetation within the matrix. Bunch grass communities quickly respond following fire, virtually within a year, with luxuriant growth. In Idaho fescue communities, response to fire disturbance was a decline in grass vitality and dominance with a corresponding increase in forbs. The increase in forbs provides a show of wildflower color much appreciated by people, and the succorant vegetation is also important wildlife browse (Hall, 1993; and USFS, 1979).

,

Shrub species provide important composition and structural diversity within the grassland landscapes and can also create corridors within the grassland matrix. These shrub species demonstrated a tremendous response one year following a fire in 1988, when snowberry (Symphoricarposorephilus) and rose (Rosa spp) quickly responded 170


and reoccupied burned sites. Again, the vigor of these shrub communities, largely a function of periodic fire disturbance, is not only an important aspect of plant ecology, but it is also important for wildlife forage and habitat (USFS, 1979) for grazing (Hall, 1993), for visual interest and complexity in recreation settings, and for providing berries and fruits still important to today's tribal culture. Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) forests were common in the mountains and foothills of the region and may have been extensive (Biswell, 1973; and USFS, 1993). These low-elevation forests were maintained and regenerated by a regime of frequent (3- to 15-year return intervals), low-intensity ground fires and infrequent higher intensity small crown fires (Agee, 1993; Kilgore, 1978; and Biswell, 1973) or by gaps formed when a tree or small group of trees died, fell to the ground, and burned at high intensities, forming a seed bed for new pines (West, 1969; and White, 1985). In the higher elevation forests, dominated by Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and true firs, moister, cooler conditions prevailed, and the plant community response to fire was more complex. Relatively frequent (5- to 50-year return intervals), small, but intense fire occurred that sometimes burned into the tree crowns or killed scattered groups of trees (Maruoka, 1993; Cole, 1981; Davis et al., 1980). This fire disturbance consumed older vegetation that had likely succumbed to insects and disease and stimulated the rejuvenation of fire-adapted species such as Douglas fir and larch (Larix occidentalis), leaving a complex mosaic of plant communities and successional conditions (Johnson, 1993; and Agee, 1993).

topographic variations, further enhancing complexity and variety across the landscape, particularly differences between upland and sloping sites and sheltered ravines and valley bottoms. (See, for example, Romme and Knight, 1981.) These historic fire regimes obviously put smoke into the air, probably mostly during the late summer and fall, smoke that, tradition has it, is what caused many pioneers to think of these mountains as blue when they saw them (Hall, 1967; Lehmkuhl et al., 1993). Early ranchers also used fire on grasslands to protect their homes from wildfire, to clear land, to stimulate new growth in the spring, and to remove brush and other obstacles for their cattle (Shinn, 1980). Between lightning-ignited fires in grasslands and forests, fires still being ignited by indigenous tribal peoples, and fires started by farmers and ranchers, the people living in the Blue Mountains in the late 1 800 and early 1900s may well have spent a lot of the year in a smoky haze. Indeed, current estimates suggest that there may have been as much as 46 percent more smoke in these forests in historic times that there is today (based on estimates of historic and current emissions from national forest lands in eastern Washington and Oregon) (USFS, 1993). Fire effects in the high peaks and basins are much the same today as in historic times and will be discussed later in the paper. The lesson here for wilderness managers is that, whether or not you consider prehistoric tribal people's use of fire natural, it is difficult at best, more likely impossible, to separate fires regimes and the effects of those regimes (Arno, 1985). The plant communities that adapted to the fire regimes of the last several thousand years certainly did not distinguish between lightning-caused and human-caused fires. Furthermore, the European pioneers found an environment already influenced by human-caused fire and did considerable influencing of fire regimes themselves, sometimes to their own benefit, sometimes not. People have been affected by, and have caused effects to, the Blue Mountains environment, particularly with fire, for at least 3,000 to 4,000 years.

At a landscape scale, the effects of fires on the matrix of continuous forest created a mosaic of thinned stands, uneven aged, multi-storied stands, and areas of relatively even-aged stands where a fire consumed the existing forest, initiating early seral stages and forest regeneration (Johnson, 1983; Agee, 1993; Lehmkuhl et al., 1993; Cole, 1981; and Arno, 1980). Fires also interacted with 171


Today, the Blue Mountains region shows a wide variety of effects and manipulations from human use, spread extensively across the landscapes. Most of the middle and upper elevations of the Blue Mountains consist of national forest land, part of a federal system of forest reserves created around 1906. It is in these national forests that the region's formally designated wilderness is nested. The wilderness is surrounded by forests actively managed for a wide variety of human values: timber, range, wildlife, water, recreation, etc. The large valleys, and much of the foothills, are privately owned, occupied by commercial timber lands, ranches, farms, and towns. Transportation routes are a dominant part of the social and economic landscapes of the area. Interstate Highway 84, the nation's major northern east-west transportation corridor runs right through the Blue Mountains, and several state highways also crisscross the region. Major cities of the region are Pendleton, LaGrande, and Baker. These are small cities, Pendleton being the largest with a population of about 15,000 people.

have been actively and successfully (for at least the past 50 years) protected from most wildfires (Kilgore, 1978). In some plant communities, ecological changes due to fire suppression have been dramatic. As many as 10 fires would have burned over the region's grasslands and under some of these forests during the last 50 to 75 years that fires have been effectively suppressed. Without this fire disturbance, changes have occurred in species composition (Biswell, 1973; and Cole,1981), the structure of grassland and forest vegetation (Huff et al., 1993; Arno and Brown, 1991; and USFS, 1993), and in how these grasslands and forests function (Agee, 1993; Caraher et al., 1992; Gast et al., 1991; and Mutch etal. ,1993). This has occurred within individual plant communities and also across the landscapes (Kilgore, 1978). The cumulative effects of such changes at the plant communities scale are becoming significant at a landscape scale. For example, in eastern Oregon and Washington, late successional Ponderosa pine forests with the single story, park-like characteristics that once were a dominant matrix across some landscapes have been greatly restricted from their prior landscape distribution (Caraher, 1992; and USFS, 1993). This response in Ponderosa pine communities, and other similar responses to fire suppression in other plant communities (e.g., Agee, 1993; and Cole, 1981), across much of the low- and mid-elevation, forested landscape have created enough change that large areas ofthe Blue Mountains are considered to be in an unsustainable condition, outside their historic range of variability, and are thus at high risk of unnatural, catastrophic disturbance from fires and insect and disease epidemics (Gast et al., 1991; Caraher, 1992; Everett, 1993; Mutch et al., 1993; Huff et al., 1993; Wichman et al., 1993; and Anderson et al., 1987).

There are a number of Native American tribal groups, descendants of the people who lived in the Blue Mountains in prehistoric times, present today in the region. They include the Burns Piute, Nez Perce, Umatilla, and Warm Springs Tribes. All of these people have a number of rights and privileges associated with treaties, including grazing, hunting, fishing, subsistence, and gathering of plant resources. The federal government also recognizes that lands in national forests, including wilderness, have unique meaning in the spiritual and everyday life ways of many Native Americans. (Previous information drawn from McConnell, 1991.) In addition to treaty agreements, the federal government has also formally recognized religious values and rights to Native Americans through the 1978 American Indian Religious Freedom Act. One ofthe most significant current human effects to landscapes like those of the Blue Mountains is the emphasis on fire suppression. (See, for example, Kilgore, 1978.) Protection from fire is a dominant land-management goal on both private and national forest lands. The national forests were in part created to protect lands from wildfire (Dahl eta!., 1978). This is certainly true in the Blue Mountains, where national forests

This situation threatens not only ecological resiliency (Kilgore, 1978), but also all of the human values in the Blue Mountains: timber, range, wildlife, water, recreation and tourism, and spiritual--and the lives and livelihoods and cultures 172


built around these values. For wilderness, this situation is a serious threat, not only due to the effects of ecosystem dynamics but also to the human interference that has come with fire suppression, which threatens a fundamental value many people hold for wilderness: its wildness and freedom from manipulations of modern human technology. With increasing elevation, forests gradually give way to tree clumps, open parks, and meadows. The fire regimes of the high peaks, ridges, and basins (at elevations mostly above 2,100 meters) are probably little changed by fire suppression. (For more information on high-elevation fire, see DeBenedetti and Parsons, 1979 and 1984; Agee et al., 1990; Huff et al., 1989; Huff and Agee, 1991; Agee and Smith, 1984; and Douglas and Ballard, 1971). One reason fire suppression has had so little effect on these upper elevation ecosystems is that the fire return intervals are commonly long in these landscapes, perhaps several hundred years between fire disturbances (Barrett et al., 1991; Arno and Key, 1991; Cole, 1981; and Agee, 1993), a much longer time between fires than the 50 to 100 years of modern fire suppression. Today, this spectacular high country is valued primarily as wilderness and as a place to seek recreational and spiritual escape from our modern, technology-dominated landscapes. CHARTING A COURSE FOR THE FUTURE The Forest Service is required by the 1976 National Forest Management Act to prepare a management plan for each designated national forest. In these forest plans, the Forest Service is required to articulate the goals or desired future for the forest, the standards within which the forest will be managed, and how management actions and resources will be monitored. The forest plans are prepared for all national forest lands, including wilderness. What is sustainable in the Blue Mountains wilderness in the future, ecologically, socially, and economically? In order to develop management goals for fire in wilderness, complex ecosystem

dynamics at a variety of scales, and also interactions between people and these ecosystems, must be considered. Wilderness goals must fit within larger landscape and regional goals, because ecosystems do not change at wilderness boundaries, and the values of the region's resources to people include many in addition to wilderness. The term ecosystem management is often used to describe an approach that uses ecosystem potential and social and economic values in order to strike a balanced goal that can be sustained into the future (Znerold et al., 1991; and Overbay, 1992). What makes ecological sense for the Blue Mountains wilderness in the future? At lease three fire management goals appear to be reasonable alternatives to consider for preserving and maintaining wild, free ecosystems. One would be to return to the post-glaciation conditions, before the influence of tribal peoples and their fire practices. Another possible goal would be to return the landscapes and plant communities that have been significantly affected by fire suppression to at least the condition they were in at the time European settlers arrived in the Blue Mountains. Obviously, this means returning them to conditions that were fundamentally influenced by prehistoric tribal cultures, a disadvantage if you consider such influences human and thus not natural. (See, for example, Worf, 1985). Others argue that attempting to separate these human interactions from other environmental disturbances is artificial, impractical, or even futile (e.g., Kilgore, 1985b; Luca, 1985; and perhaps Nash, 1985). Although the effects of prehistoric burning are clearly human effects, they are substantially different from the effects of modern technology and its disruption of fire regimes. In this sense, historic conditions were at least more natural than current conditions for many fireadapted plant communities and landscapes. Another advantage for this goal is that we do know a significant amount about landscape and ecosystem composition, structure, and function of historic times (e.g., Everett, 1993; Caraher et al., 1992; Maruoka et al., 1993; Agee, 1993; USFS, 1992; USFS, 1993; Agee, 1990; Kauffman, 1990; 173


Cobb, 1988; Bork, 1985; Morrow, 1985; Baumgartner et al., 1985; Gabriel, 1976; Soeriaatmadja, 1966; and Biswell, 1973).

landscapes across a broad scale ofboth space and time. (See, for example, Caraher et al., 1992; Swanson et al., 1993; Christensen, 1988; Risbrudt, 1992; and van Wagtendonk, 1985.) Fortunately, such an approach also fits well with management goals for lands adjacent to wilderness where efforts are underway to restore ecosystem health, partly by restoring fire to a more historic role (Caraher et al., 1992; Mutch et al., 1993; and Gast et al. , 1991). "Forest Landscape Analysis and Design" (Diaz and Apostol, 1992) provides particularly useful concepts for a landscape approach such as this, particularly for coordination ofgoals within wilderness with those for surrounding lands. One difficulty of this approach is that Forest Service wilderness managers do not currently have authority to ignite fires to meet such goals. Forest Service policy allows managers to ignite fires in wilderness only to reduce unnatural fuel build-up or to reduce risk of wildfire that might start in wilderness and move into surrounding lands.

This is a particularly compelling goal for wilderness ecosystems with documented, significant effects from fire suppression. In such cases, it may be necessary to at least restore historic conditions in order to avoid even more unnatural effects in the future. In spite of the relatively effective suppression of most fires, fire still inevitably occurs, and when it does in plant communities and landscapes altered by fire suppression, its behavior is increasingly severe and difficult to predict (van Wagtendonk, 1985; and Arno and Brown, 1991). The ecological effects and responses to this kind of fire may not be like any that have occurred before. Clearly, setting goals for the future must address this current situation. (See Brown, 1985; Agee, 1993; and van Wagtendonk, 1985, for more discussion of this issue.)

If wilderness managers and publics can reach a goal for restoring a more natural range of plant community and landscape conditions, whether based on prehistoric or historic range ofvariability or on some other measure, they will still fail to fully attain the 1964 Wilderness Act goal of free play of natural processes. In addition, a goal of maintaining these communities into the future may not only be artificial or unnatural, it may also be unrealistic (Brubaker, 1988). In short, although we can learn something from it, and may even be able, in some cases, to restore more natural conditions by returning to it, the past is an incomplete tool for setting goals for the future.

For most wilderness in the Blue Mountains, a logical goal may be simply to emphasize a return to fire regimes driven by lightning ignitions. Although this seems a straightforward goal, it is not without its own difficulties and complexities, which are discussed later under the natural range of variability for disturbance regimes. Whatever goal wilderness publics and managers select, they must still be careful to avoid a goal that calls for a static, snapshot condition for wilderness communities and landscapes. Earlier discussion in this paper has illustrated that cycles of weather and other disturbances, interacting with fire disturbances, created an ever-changing mix and combination ofplant communities across Blue Mountain landscapes. Seeking just one arrangement of plant communities across a landscape and just one arrangement of landscapes across the region would be just as artificial for wilderness as altering fire disturbance regimes has been. To avoid this problem, wilderness managers have the benefit of various strategies that have been used or proposed to estimate the natural range of variability or hypothetical range frequency distributions ofplant communities and

If the ultimate goal is for wilderness to be truly free from human interference, in the case of fire disturbances, we must consider not only how past fire regimes affected Blue Mountains ecosystems and landscapes, we must also have a strategy that allows free play for future fire regimes so that their selective and adaptive interactions are not altered by people. If complete free play for fire regimes is not possible, we must decide how much human interference with them is acceptable. Unless we are able to do that, we will not be able to 174


incorporate the concept of preserving and protecting functions and disturbance factors that are the heart and soul of wild ecosystems. (See, for example, Sprugel, 1985.)

Whatever goal is finally selected, the desired future role of wilderness fire management should be based on the concept of a range of natural variability for ecosystem and landscape conditions, and also for fire disturbance regimes. The existing condition of each wilderness should be inventoried and described hierarchically, in teens of both ecosystem and landscape composition, structure, and function. Fire regimes, including human effects on them--particularly the effects of fire suppression, inside and outside wildernessâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; should be described quantitatively and qualitatively. This information is essential to determine the ecologically sustainable goals for wilderness fire. These goals should be articulated clearly enough so that measurable, objective standards and monitoring strategies can be developed for them.

The fact that wilderness sits in a landscape managed for many other values means that fire disturbance regimes will always be altered to some extent. It may be necessary, for example, to take actions that simulate the parts of a natural fire regime represented by fires that would have swept into wilderness from surrounding landscapes, landscapes where such fires are now effectively suppressed (Packard, 1983; and Christensen, 1988). Although estimating parts of disturbance regimes and their effects is even more difficult than estimating the range of natural variability for ecosystem conditions, wilderness managers do have the benefit of considerable research on this topic for concepts, tools, and techniques that can be applied. (See, for example, Shugart and Seagle, 1985; Kean et al., 1990; and Wiitala eta!., 1993.) Here again, as with igniting fire in wilderness to restore conditions within the range of natural variability, a difficulty is that Forest Service wilderness managers do not currently have authority to ignite fires in wilderness to meet such goals. One final point is worth emphasis when considering possible future human actions regarding fire regimes in wilderness. In a fire regime with truly unaltered natural characteristics, relatively frequent crown fires, and occasional large stand replacing fires, occur in many forest types (Agee, 1990 and 1993; Kilgore, 1978; Biswell, 1989; Anderson, 1968; and Albini, 1976). Today people tend to be concerned about fires with this kind of behavior (Beebe and Omi, 1993; and Shelby and Speaker, 1990). Such fires also put a lot of smoke into the air (Butts,1985; USFS, 1993; and Ottmar et al., 1993), and these fires are likely to have burned during mid- to late-summer--times of smoke sensitivity for today's recreationalists visiting wilderness areas and for those living in surrounding communities. It is undoubtedly true that accepting and managing such fire regimes, including their risks and effects, will take strong commitment to common goals and considerable trust and shared risk between the public, local governments, other agencies, and Forest Service managers.

According to Nash (1985): ... wilderness doesn't care whether a fire is started by a helitorch or by Indians or by careless campers or lightning strikes. In a sense, that's true, but I would submit to you that people do care--a great deal. Wilderness, remember, is a feeling, a state of mind. We must not only fit wilderness goals into physical and biological ecosystems and landscapes, we must also fit them into the landscapes of human values (Stankey and Clark, 1992). There are a number of issues related to fire that are good illustrations of this point. Recreational users of wilderness both accept and oppose fire. Among those who are likely to accept fire are those who value and understand its ecological role (Stankey, 1976; and Shelby and Speaker, 1990) and those who value wilderness precisely for its freedom from obvious human domination (Elsner eta!., 1993; McDonald, 1990; Ulrich et al., 1991; and Schroeder, 1993). However, someâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;perhaps mostâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;of the recreational users of wilderness think most fires, even in wilderness, should be put out (Stankey, 1976). Many who value wilderness and other wild lands may value clear air more. (See, for example, Williams, 1992; Maim eta!., 1983; and Ross et al., 1986.) 175


In the broader group of people who might be affected by wilderness fire, there are even more varied reactions. There are a large and perhaps growing number of people who support management of fire as part of managing for forest health or for healthy ecosystems (e.g., Caraher et al., 1992; West, 1992; and Shelby and Speaker, 1990). In the Blue Mountains region, many of those in local communities with both economic and cultural values that could be directly affected by wilderness fires actively support restoration of fire not only in wilderness, but also in other national forest lands, because they see this as a way to reduce the risk of extreme, unnaturally severe fires due to fuels that have accumulated during the years of fire suppression (Caraher et al., 1992; and USFS, 1993d). Some members of tribal groups who use the Blue Mountains complain that fire suppression has altered characteristics they value, such as the abundance and quality of the region's wild berry crops--a complaint which is backed up by research (Minore, 1972).

people oftribal and pioneer cultures, today people place high value on clean air and are not likely to easily compromise this value. In addition, Clean Air Act regulations raise significant issues about smoke from wild land fires (Haddow, 1985; and Sanberg and Dost, 1990). Some of the technical aspects of wild land fire issues that are raised by the Clean Air Act's regulation of particulates have been discussed in a paper by Lahm, Haddow, and Lamb (1992). They note that the size range of the particulates regulated by the Clean Air Act, due to concern about the effects to human health and visibility, is nearly the same size range as most particulates emitted by wild land fires. The paper also notes other pollutants of concern from wild land fires (for example, carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides), and also air toxins--a number of the gases identified in wood smoke are potentially carcinogenic. Clearly, a wide array of people and organizations must be part of the dialogue and the decisionmaking to establish goals for fire management in wilderness. The whole spectrum of those who are interested and who may be affected should be represented. People outside the Forest Service and their values are critical components for striking a sustainable balance between what is ecologicallypossible andtoday's social and economic goals. Furthermore, accepting the effects and risks of managing fire in wilderness will only be shared between the public, other agencies, and the Forest Service, if all concerned are able to participate in goal-setting (USFS and other agencies, 1993). The dialogue between managers and the public should be part of both planning and implementation and a wide range of information sharing opportunities provided, such as forums and workshops, demonstration projects, field trips, and continuing education (Stankey and Clark, 1992).

Local citizens have also expressed, however, a concern (commonly expressed regarding management of wild land fires) for protection of lives, homes, developments and property, and valued timber and range resources from destruction by fire (Caraher etal., 1992; and Tiedemann, 1978). Who benefits and who pays for wilderness fire (Mills, 1985), particularly differences between costs and benefits for people in the Blue Mountains region verses people living outside the area, is a crucial consideration. (See, for example, Power, 1992). For many people, fire is a fearful phenomena, one which should be controlled and put out at almost any cost (Beebe and Omi, 1993). There are also a number of significant issues related to wild land fire smoke and air quality. With the fire suppression of the last 20 to 70 years, smoke has been greatly reduced in the Blue Mountains region (Ottmar etal. ,1993; and USFS, 1993). Today, although there is still burning associated with agriculture and timber harvest, the air in the Blue Mountains region is usually clear and smoke-free (Oregon State Department of Environmental Quality, 1991). Unlike the

Once a goal for the future role of fire in wilderness is established, measurable, quantifiable standards must be specified for both ecological and social components of the goal. Standards to remain within the range of historic variability for both ecosystem conditions (e. g. , Caraher et al., 1992) 176


and fire regimes (e.g., Agee and Huff, 1985) must be developed. Standards must be established for acceptable limits of change to natural fire regimes, as well as for how to determine if or when it is acceptable to take management actions to mimic fire regimes. Establishing standards for wilderness ecosystems must be coordinated with standards and objectives for surrounding lands. Fortunately, the goals for restoring ecosystem health in the Blue Mountains (Caraher et al., 1992; Mutch eta!., 1993; Gast eta!., 1991) are compatible with restoring fire to wilderness. These shared goals should make it possible to establish compatible standards between wilderness and most surrounding lands.

These standards, established to protect people from inhaling harmful particulates in smoke, would almost certainly be violated inside wilderness during afire. Should wilderness be closed to public access during a fire? Should the boundaries be posted letting people know that entering the wilderness could be harmful to their health? What about closing or posting warnings at campgrounds, outside wilderness, but downwind from the fire? What should be done if air quality around homes and communities would be affected? It is highly likely that fire in wilderness would have to be controlled, and in some cases put out, if human health standards for adjacent homes and communities were violated. These issues must be addressed, and support from the public and regulatory agencies must be gained, before wilderness fire programs can be fully implemented. It is likely that operational standards to address these issues must ultimately be included in forest plans.

Social and economic standards such as how to best protect human life, private property, and adjacent resource values must also be developed as part of this planning process. The idea of managing risk is central to protecting these and other values. Wilderness fire managers must work with the public to establish how much risk is acceptable and develop standards for how risk will be evaluated during a fire. (e.g., Wiitala and Carlton, 1993).

The Clean Air Act establishes the overall goal to reduce existing and prevent future air pollution impairment of visibility in wilderness recognized as a Class I area. There are three Class I wildernesses distributed across the Blue Mountains. The Forest Service, along with other federal land managers with responsibility for Class I wilderness, is responsible for establishing standards for visibility. There are a number of issues that make establishing standards for visibility complicated.

Because smoke from wilderness fires is one of the most significant effects, it is also particularly important to establish standards for protection of human health and visibility both within and outside wilderness. Examining the issues raised by smoke management standards also serves as a useful example of how complicated it can be to establish wilderness fire standards.

Maim (1983) describes the fundamentals of how smoke affects visibility as follows:

The federal Clean Air Act requires the Environmental Protection Agency to develop national ambient air quality standards for, among other pollutants, particulates (i.e., smoke). Standards for particulates have been established to protect human health that must be met anywhere the public has access. The Clean Air Act standards for particulates are targeted on the small particles that can be inhaled by people (thus affecting health) and that are optimal for reducing visibility (i.e., particles which are 10 microns or smaller in diameter). The primary, human health standards are 150 micrograms per cubic meter (24-hour average) and 50 micrograms per cubic meter (annual arithmetic mean) of such particulates.

Smoke affects visibility in complex ways by both scattering and absorbing light, a process that is sensitive to atmospheric conditions such as relative humidity. The effects of smoke on visibility are also different if observations are made looking into the sun or with the sun behind the point of observation. Air pollution also causes three distinct types of visibility impairment: 1) uniform haze, 2) plumes, or 3) layered haze, each of which might have a separate standard. 177


Finally, the instruments necessary to measure these variables and monitor standards are relatively sophisticated, and they are complicated and expensive to operate. Different instruments are used to measure aerosols (suspended particulates), optical characteristics of the atmosphere, chemical characteristics of the atmosphere, scene characteristics, and meteorological conditions.

Although impairment of visibility is often caused by several pollutants, in most cases, standards need not address each pollutant separately. Instead, standards can be targeted at the effects (impaired views and visible hazes) and, in fact, may be more effective that way (Pitchford and Shaver, 1991). However, such a relatively simple approach may not be possible for wilderness. Smoke that is the result of natural ecosystem processes does not appear to meet the Clean Air Act's definition of pollution because it does not originate from human activities. Will regulatory agencies accept this interpretation for lightning fires that are managed instead of suppressed? Will the public? What will regulatory agencies and the public think about fires that are ignited by managers to mimic natural fires? Even if regulatory agencies and the public accept the ecosystem process interpretation, federal land managers will still have to establish standards that distinguish between pollution and natural background smoke. Neither pollution nor natural background smoke concentrations or their effects on visibility are constant, further complicating establishment of visibility standards (Pitchford and Shaver, 1991).

Forest plans must contain not only goals and standards for wilderness fires, they must also indicate how conditions and management actions will be monitored in order to determine if forest plan directions are being met. Basic forest plan monitoring concepts are provided by the "Forest Plan Implementation Workbook" (USFS, I993c). The fundamental question to be answered from all forest plan monitoring, including wilderness monitoring, is: Is the wilderness at or moving towards the desired goal established by the plan? In order to track this for wilderness fire management, managers must inventory the existing conditions of key ecological, social, and economic variables associated with fire, most likely the same variables used for ecological, social, and economic fire management standards. The goals or desired future for each of these variables must also be defined in measurable ways. With these two sets of information and with a monitoring program designed to measure changes in these variables over time, wilderness managers can evaluate whether or not the wilderness is at or moving towards the desired goal described in the forest plan for wilderness fire management.

The variables and measurements that can be used to establish standards for visibility such as "percent change in extinction coefficient" (Pitchford et al., 1990), "standard visual index" (Pitchford and Malm, 1992), and even the most commonly used "standard visual range" (Malm, 1979) can be difficult for managers and the public to understand (Stewart and Leary, 1985). Even the seemingly simple approach that would base visibility standards on smoke effects that are just noticeable to the human eye quickly become complicated and difficult to utilize (e.g., Stewart and Leary, 1985; Ely et al. , 1991; and Malm and Shaver, 1983).

A comprehensive proposal for inventorying and monitoring wilderness ecosystem attributes, both the framework for implementation and the conceptual basis, is provided by Landres, Cole, and Watson (1993). The approach described includes a strategy for cooperation between management and research, outlines basic goals for wilderness monitoring, addresses both threats and uses of wilderness, and emphasizes a hierarchical approach for ecosystem monitoring. It provides an excellent basis for development of all wilderness monitoring programs, including fire monitoring. In the conceptual model for this monitoring program, disturbance regimes (e.g., fire regimes) would be monitored to track their effects on ecosystem composition, structure, and

In addition, it is common to use a mix of standards such as a seasonal average of cleanest days (e.g., visual range not reduced more than 5 percent of baseline 90th percentile of cleanest days) and a measurement of short-term visual range impairment or intrusion into a particularly sensitive area (e.g., short-term visual range impairment ... will not reduce ... visual range more than 10 percent of 90th percentile in Class I air sheds ...) (USFS, 1993b). 178


function at a variety of scales from the landscape to population and species, perhaps even at the level of genetic effects. The "Forest Plan Implementation Workbook" also specifies operational monitoring strategies. Validation monitoring would be conducted to confirm that the intended goals for wilderness fire are appropriate. Validation monitoring provides a way to examine and incorporate new information that comes from research or from knowledge gained during plan implementation. This kind of monitoring would be particularly useful for goals that are difficult to define and measure. Effectiveness monitoring would be necessary to determine if management actions accomplished what was intended and did so in an efficient manner. Obviously, effectiveness monitoring is critical if actions are taken to mimic the natural role of fire. Finally, implementation monitoring is a way to track whether or not managers are doing what the plan says will be done. For example: Are inventories being conducted to fill the gaps in information about existing or desired conditions? Are lightning fires being allowed to play their natural role in wilderness? For some effects from fire, forest plans may need to specify real-time monitoring requirements. It maybe necessary, for example, to monitor whether or not a fire is within standards for risk to nonwilderness resources or whether or not Clean Air Act standards are being met. In cases like this, real time monitoring, during times when fires are actually burning, may be required in order to make decisions about how to manage a fire, including whether or not to put it out.

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Once a complete set of wilderness fire inventory and monitoring requirements have been developed, they should be compared with other wilderness and non-wilderness inventory and monitoring programs so that they can be integrated with as many other programs as possible.

. 1985. Ecological effects and management implications of Indian fires. In: Proceedings of Symposium and Workshop on Wilderness Fire. Ogden: USFS.

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AUTHOR Susan Sater USDA Forest Service P.O. Box 3623 Portland, OR 97208

185


APPLICATION OF THE LIMITS OF ACCEPTABLE CHANGE PLANNING PROCESS IN USDA FOREST SERVICE WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT EDWIN KRUMPE GERALD STOKES ABSTRACT In 1982, the USDA Forest Service began applying the Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) wilderness planning and management concept to its components of the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS). That planning and management framework is now being applied throughout the National Forest System components of the NWPS, as well as some Bureau of Land Management and National Park Service wildernesses. To date, these applications have primarily focused on recreation use. This paper addresses the LAC concept and the associated public participation and political science concepts and principles that have beenusedto achieve public involvement and support for wilderness management. This paper also includes a critical analysis of LAC applications to date and the potential the concept has to address the broader resource aspects of wilderness management beyond recreation use. The critical analysis and discussion of the potential evolution of the LAC is based on the results of a recent interagency/ academic assessment of the LAC.

Wilderness Complex in Montana to adopt the limits of acceptable change wilderness management process (then under development by the Intermountain Forest and Range Experiment Station) to provide the road map to use in devising a management regime for public use of the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex (Stankey et al., 1984; and Stankey et al., 1985). To address the second, the increased demand for public participation, transactive planning proposed by Friedmann (1973) and applied by McLaughlin (1977) and Stokes (1982) was adopted as the public involvement model to achieve broad public participation when applying the LAC process. In this paper, we will first describe how the LAC process was designed as a reformulation of the recreational carrying capacity concept and then we will explain how transactive planning was applied to provide for meaningful public involvement in the process. Finally, we will talk about some of the pitfalls and shortcomings of both and point out new adaptations being proposed to address the broader aspects of wilderness resource management beyond recreation use.

INTRODUCTION

RECONSIDERING CARRYING CAPACITY

The evolution of the LAC process began with an attempt to address two concurrent problems that faced wilderness managers in the United States in the 1980s--one was technical and the other societal in nature (Stokes, 1990). The first was a realization that carrying capacities for wilderness could not be simply expressed as a number of users beyond which resources would deteriorate. The second was that citizens were actively expecting and indeed demanding to play a participatory role in natural resource decision-making. It was an attempt to address the first of these problems that led the managers ofthe Bob Marshall

The problem with the carrying capacity approach to wilderness management is that it focuses on the wrong question--what number of users are too many? First conceptualized in range and wildlife management, carrying capacity implies that if some specific use level actually signals the beginning of environmental deterioration and unsatisfactory recreational experiences, then an area's carrying capacity is exceeded when that use level is exceeded. The obvious solution would be to restrict recreational use (Stankey et al., 1984). Prolific ecological and social research studies have attempted to determine the level of recre-

186


ation use at which unacceptable impacts begin to occur. (See Drogin eta!., 1986; and Graefe eta!., 1984.) The recurring finding of over 2,000 citations is that there is no clear or predictable relationship between use and impact. In fact, we now know that in most wilderness settings, a little use causes most of the ecological impact, and additional use causes less and less additional impact. In addition, such factors as the resiliency of the site, size of user group, mode of transportation (foot, horse, or float), length of stay, season of the year, and behavior patterns of users are often far more important in determining impact than mere numbers of users (Hammitt and Cole, 1987).

manly in the last stages of producing a plan; and input was limited to comments about what alternative was preferred (Ashor eta!., 1986). As the focus changed from searching for a magic capacity number to making judgments about what resource and social conditions were acceptable, a new planning approach was sought that specifically acknowledged the reality of a politicized environment and the desire to involve the public in the decision making process from the ground up. To these ends, whenthe Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex became the first wilderness area to adopt the LAC approach to planning, it also drew upon political science principles and a transactive planning approach to involve the public.

The LAC signaled a turning point in which researchers and managers came to realize that rather than attempting to discover an elusive carrying capacity number, they should focus on what kinds of resource and social conditions were desired to be maintained in the wilderness. The basic premise of the LAC concept is that change (both environmental and social) is a natural, inevitable consequence of recreation use. Acceptance of this premise immediately redefines the traditional question about carrying capacity from "How much use is too much?" to "How much change is acceptable?" (Stankey et al., 1984). Two important implications for managers emerge. First, the LAC focuses their orientation on managing for desired conditions rather than on merely controlling numbers of users; and second, it clearly places the issue of capacity in a prescriptive as opposed to a technical context. That is, it asks what is the level ofacceptable change? The answer to this requires human judgment rather than science. Judgments about acceptability require not only the viewpoints of managers and researchers but of citizens as well (Stankey eta!., 1984). In other words, many wilderness planning decisions became recognized as inherently political in nature (Ashor et al., 1986).

Wilderness planning in the United States is directly affected by several political science principles described by Caulfield (1975) and Stokes (1988). First, it recognizes that different individuals and groups can amass the influence to essentially exercise veto power over a wide variety of management decisions. In particular, they can block the attainment of consensus on decisions in which they are in the minority. Second, ifthe planning task force is composed ofindividuals representing a broad range of viewpoints, it constitutes a microcosm of the political marketplace. The political marketplace consists ofthose with veto power and those political actors who have the legitimacy to make the trade-offs necessary to reach a consensus solution. Third, the actors in the political marketplace, once they have reached consensus, then have the potential to evolve into a viable political coalition to ensure adequate support for acceptance and implementation of the solution (i.e., the plan). This latter step is dependent on a group sense of ownership in the consensus solution and the group having adequate legitimacy with the population as a whole (i.e., the macro level political marketplace).

INTEGRATION OF PUBLIC INVOLVEMENT Up to the time carrying capacity was being reconceptualized (early 1980s), wilderness planning efforts had relied heavily on a technocratic planning approach that included the public pri-

Participation by, and social interaction among, the people affected by the decision is a fundamental aspect oftransactive planning (Hudson, 1979). Face-to-face dialogue in small working groups, mutual learning among citizens and planners, and a partnership in implementing subsequent man187


has proven to be cumbersome to follow. Many forests have found it useful to combine some of the steps. For example, steps 6 and 7 "identify alternative opportunity class allocations," and "identify management actions for each alternative" are often combined. After a decade of experience, people have experienced a variety of advantages as well as some problems in applying the LAC process.

agement actions form the basis of a transactive planning process (Friedmann, 1973). In the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex LAC planning process, small working groups of citizens with diverse viewpoints were assisted by professional planners. These working groups, because oftheir relatively small size, encouraged face-to-face dialogue which then resulted in mutual learning about each other's perspectives relative to the planning problem. This mutual learning encouraged a better understanding among those with opposing viewpoints and encouraged the acquisition and use of technical knowledge provided by the planners and other specialists. Thus, in these working groups, participants shared with the planners their intimate knowledge and experiences related to the resource and social conditions within the wilderness. The planners shared the technical planing models, legal constraints and mandates, and technical inventories and data with the citizens. The mutual learning accrued to both the citizens and planners. Through the dialogue and mutual learning processes, decision situations were confronted by the group, which used its accumulated knowledge to reach consensus on informed decisions about a course of action (Stokes, 1988).

SHORTCOMINGS OF THE LAC PROCESS One problem that has emerged is that there is widespread confusion that the LAC requires a citizen task force. This is not true, as the LAC is a technical nine-step process. Using a citizen task force is the vehicle to complete an LAC plan using transactive planning. A second problem is that transactive planning requires many occasions for small working groups to meet and share information and work towards consensus. In fact, the LAC plans utilizing a citizen task force typically meet an average of 20 times and take two to four years to complete. Clearly, this major commitment of time and effort has been an obstacle for both citizen participants and wilderness managers.

WHAT WE HAVE LEARNED

A third problem deals with the special training and skills required of both managers and public participants. The LAC process, combined with transactive planning, takes special training or skills to conduct interactive public meetings-skills often new to wilderness managers (Ashor, 1985). In practice, it has proven difficult to make the process work unless all groups involved perceive the person(s) leading the process to be impartial and completely open to everyone's ideas. Likewise, members of the citizen task force must be individuals who are willing to listen to opposing viewpoints, work towards mutual understanding, make compromises, and work towards consensus (Krumpe and McCoy, 1992). It is sometimes difficult to find enough qualified people to represent the various interests who can make the commitment of time and energy to participate on a task force, and funds have never been available to reimburse their expenses.

The LAC process for wilderness planning has been widely applied in the U.S. Forest Service since the completion of the first LAC plan for the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex in 1987. In a study underway at the University of Idaho of 57 national forests in six western states, 75 percent of the forests are presently applying the LAC planning process, and an additional 19 percent are planning to use it on some 62 wilderness areas. The LAC planning process has been implemented using a citizen task force in about 60 percent of the plans. To date, most LAC plans appear to have focused primarily on recreation issues; and generally these LAC plans have identified relatively few indicators to monitor (e.g., campsite density, campsite impact condition, encounters with other people at campsites, encounters along trails, litter, and stock grazing impacts). Finally, the original nine-step process 188


Another common problem is that seldom do managers have sufficient baseline data to help in selecting indicators and standards. In the University of Idaho study, 70 percent of the managers conducting LAC plans said that insufficient baseline data were available. In the course of planning, the task force will consider many, many sources of impacts to the wilderness resource and the wilderness experience. Managers just do not have the opportunity to collect all the data that would be desirable, nor can they always anticipate what needs to be collected long enough in advance of the LAC process to be useful. There is widespread confusion about how LAC planning fits in with the Forest Planning process and the National Environmental Policy Act, a process that requires an environmental assessment (EA) or an environmental impact statement (EIS) with additional public input for any program that will significantly affect the environment. It is not always clear whether a new wilderness plan will require a forest plan amendment, an EA, or an EIS. Coordinating and meshing with other aspects of forest planning is difficult at best. POSITIVE ASPECTS OF APPLYING THE LAC PROCESS

With one exception, the positive aspects ofapplying the LAC process primarily accrue from applying the transactive style of planning. These positive aspects have been documented by Ashor and others (1985) and include improved mutual learning, improved transfer of knowledge, better utilization of participants' personal knowledge, acceptance of divergent viewpoints, and a shared commitment to the plan. The exception is that the LAC process results in a management plan that the general public (those not involved in the task force) can perceive as trackable and traceable. This is because a management action is not implemented unless a standard has been exceeded for a particular indicator that was selected to monitor a specific problem. The study underway at the University of Idaho has revealed some additional benefits that accrue to both the agency and the task force participants.

Over 80 percent of the forest managers reported that completing an LAC plan has had a positive impact on the agency's public image. This is a real advantage because completing wilderness plans often requires resolving controversial issues among opposing interest groups. In recent LAC plans, dialogue and rapport among different user groups have been greatly enhanced, and the mutual learning and opportunities to provide education to different constituencies have been reported as great. Agency managers report that the LAC planning process has built broad public support and created a constituency for implementing their wilderness management plan. Agencies also report that it has given a focus to their monitoring requirements. Finally, of the participants on LAC task forces, 100 percent said that developing an LAC document was a valuable use of their time. QUESTIONS THAT HAVE EMERGED ABOUT THE FUTURE DIRECTION OF LAC PLANNING

In April, 1993, a conference was held to review and evaluate the state-of-the-art and future directions ofthe LAC approach to wilderness planning (called Wilderness Institute 1993). It was sponsored by the Nation's four wilderness management agencies (USFS, BLM, NPS, and FWS) and the Wilderness Society. The agency practitioners, academic researchers, and private citizens who attended all had experience with the LAC process. Several key categories of questions were raised, two focused at the application level of the process and two on the conceptual definition level. Questions about the application of the LAC centered around how to effectively gain public involvement when using a citizen task force. Should the public task force take a narrow focus (selecting indicators, standards, and corrective actions), or should the whole wilderness management plan be re-written with their involvement? The scope of their involvement must be made clear from the beginning. It is important to include participants who represent the full range of issues and concernsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;grave problems can arise 189


the bio-physical conditions and the social (wilderness experience) conditions which are to be perpetuated over time. For example, desirable conditions for natural fire regimes, natural fish and wildlife populations, water quality, vegetative composition, exotic species, and disturbance factors should be described, as well as desired conditions for solitude, crowding, remoteness, and challenge, to name a few. The planners/task force then should select indicators which will let them know if these desired conditions are changing. Finally, standards should be selected which, if exceeded, would trigger management actions. This would allow an ecosystem management approach to be implemented over the long term. The key elements of the complete wilderness ecosystem, both physical and social, could thus be perpetuated through monitoring and prescriptive management within the LAC framework.

when key interests are not represented. Additionally, it is important to make sure the task force members are actively informing their constituencies throughout the process. Otherwise, compromises and decisions will be reached within the task force that will not be supported by the public at large. Another question was should the Forest Service, or regions within the service, standardize on specific indicators and standards to monitor? The advantage of standardizing is that it would simplify the process, and perhaps more importantly it could help ensure some level of quality across different wilderness areas. This would prevent a deterioration of wilderness quality on those areas that had task forces and that were willing to set more lenient standards. The disadvantage is that standardized indicators and standards fail to reflect the wide variation in resource and social conditions across different wilderness areas. An indicator and standard that worked in a subalpine wilderness in the mountainous western states may be totally inappropriate in a desert wilderness or in an eastern deciduous forest setting. In addition, adopting standardized indicators would most likely become a short cut to identifying the appropriate meaningful limits of acceptable change for site-specific problems. Finally, little research has been done to validate either indicators or standards. Selecting common indicators or standards at this point in time would most likely perpetuate traditional ways of doing things rather than build upon any real knowledge of impacts and how to monitor them. A second category of questions dealt with the conceptual definition of the LAC. How can the LAC be expanded to accommodate an ecosystem approach to management? How can it include all aspects of the wilderness resource, not just managing recreation use? While the original manuscript officially describing the LAC (Stankey et al. 1987) was written as a wilderness recreation management tool, the underlying concept is essentially "management by objectives," and many people believe it is not necessary to constrain its application to recreation management. The best approach to broaden the scope lies in the second step of the process, "define and describe opportunity classes." What is needed is to write broad "desired future conditions" that describe both

A final conceptual question deals with whether or not standards for maintaining wilderness conditions should be written as "minimally acceptable conditions" or as "desirable conditions?" The concern is that the former implies conditions will be allowed to deteriorate to the lowest common denominator. For example, a standard that campsites should have no more than 20 square meters of bare mineral soil exposed would provoke no management intervention until 20 square meters or more of mineral soil were exposed, and arguably, all campsites could deteriorate to this condition. Focusing on desirable future conditions encourages presently pristine conditions to be maintained without substantial deterioration because it implies that management intervention can be initiated if conditions begin to deteriorate. For example, a standard that 90 percent of all campsites shall have no more than 20 square meters of exposed mineral soil would stimulate managers to proactively implement management practices to prevent campsite deterioration. While the distinction is subtle, proponents argue that the focus on desired future conditions provides greater opportunity to perpetuate healthy, unimpaired wilderness conditions. In conclusion, the LAC planning process has evolved in response to a need to reconceptualize the concept of carrying capacities for wilderness. It has been shaped in its evolution by frequent application of the transactive planning model 190


McLaughlin, W. 1977. The Indian Hills experiment: A case study in transactive planning theory. Ph.D. dissertation.

which provided the vehicle for meaningful public involvement in making wilderness management decisions. After a decade of experience, it appears that LAC will continue to be a useful model as it is further adapted to embrace the concepts of ecosystem management in wilderness.

Stankey, G., S. McCool, and G. Stokes. 1984. Limits of acceptable change: A new framework for managing the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex. Western Wildlands. 10(3):33-7.

REFERENCES

Ashor, J., S. McCool, and G. Stokes. 1986. Improving wilderness planning efforts: Application of the transactive planning approach. In: Proceedings of the National Wilderness Research Conference. Fort Collins: USFS.

Stankey, G., D. Cole, R., Lucas, M. Petersen, and S. Frissell. 1985. The limits of acceptable change (LAC) systemforwildernessplanning. General Technical Report INT-176. Ogden: USFS.

Caulfield, H., Jr. 1975. Politics of multiple objective planning. In: Proceedings of the Multiple Objective Planning and DecisionMaking Conference (Boise). Moscow: Idaho Research Foundation.

Stokes, G. 1990. The evolution of wilderness management. Journal ofForestry. 88(10):1520. 1988. Involving the public in wilderness management decision making: The Bob Marshall Wilderness Complexâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;A case study. In: Economic and social development: A role for forest and forestry professionals. Bethesda: Society of American Foresters. 157-61.

Drogin, E., A. Graefe, J. Vaske, and F. Kuss. 1986. Recreation impacts and carrying capacity: A bibliography and literature analysis. Washington: National Parks and Conservation Association.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;. 1982. Conservation of the Blackfoot River corridor: An application of transactive planning theory. Ph.D. dissertation.

Friedmann, J.1973. RetrackingAmerica: Atheory oftransactive planning. Garden City: Anchor Press/Doubleday.

Wilderness Institute. 1993. In: Proceedings of Conference on LAC '93: The 1993 InterAgency Conference on the Limits of Acceptable Change Process and Management of Public Lands in the National Wilderness Preservation System (Missoula, Montana). Missoula: Wilderness Institute.

Graefe, A., J. Vaske, and F. Kuss. 1984. Social carrying capacity: An integration and synthesis oftwentyyears of research. Leisure Sciences. 6(4):395-431. Hammitt, W., and D. Cole. 1987. Wildland recreation ecology and management. New York: John Wiley and Sons.

AUTHORS

Hudson, B. 1979. Comparisonofcurrentplanning theories: Counterparts and contradictions. American Planning Association Journal. 387-98.

Edwin Krumpe Department of Resource Recreation and Tourism University of Idaho Moscow, ID 83843

Krumpe, E., and L. McCoy. 1992. Techniques to resolve conflict in natural resource management in parks and protected areas. In: Proceedings of Workshop I.9 on Resolving Conflict in Protected Areas (Caracas, Venezuela). Keystone: Keystone Center.

Gerald Stokes Wilderness Planning USDA Forest Service P.O. Box 96090 Washington, DC 20090 191


A MONITORING STRATEGY FOR THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS PRESERVATION SYSTEM PETER LANDRES DAVID COLE ALAN WATSON

In 1964, the Wilderness Act (P.L. 88-577) established the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS), currently composed of nearly 39 million hectares in 564 separate units, ranging in size from 2.4 hectares to 3.5 million hectares. The purpose of the NWPS is "... to secure for the American people of present and future generations the benefits of an enduring resource of wilderness." The Act further states [Sec.2.(a)] that these areas: ... shall be administered for the use and enjoyment of the American people in such manner as will leave them unimpaired for future use and enjoyment as wilderness, and so as to provide for the protection of these areas, the preservation of their wilderness character, and for the gathering and dissemination of information regarding their use and enjoyment as wilderness .. What are these benefits that the American people derive? Will wilderness managers know if and when the "enduring resource of wilderness" is no longer providing these benefits? One way to answer these questions is through a broad-based monitoring program that addresses experiential, social, and ecological issues. Monitoring programs currently exist in several wildernesses, but there is little coordination across areas or among the variety of purposes for monitoring. The NWPS is composed of extremely diverse units, varying in ecosystem types, geographical location, size, use, and benefits. In addition, four different federal agencies administerwildernesses within the NWPS. This diversity is beneficial, but likely renders any single monitoring program developed in one area for one purpose inadequate to meet the full breadth and

depth of social and ecological issues of concern. Furthermore, information about monitoring techniques that can be used in wilderness is largely nonexistent or so diffuse that it is difficult to apply. This lack of coordination and information, and the tremendous diversity within the NWPS, strongly suggests the need for a coordinated, comprehensive monitoring strategy that can fit the needs of individual agencies and units across the NWPS. The monitoring strategy we propose seeks to achieve a comprehensive, integrated program of wilderness monitoring, an umbrella under which individual agencies and units of the NWPS develop specific programs and protocols to fit their individual needs. This monitoring strategy has two key elements: 1) a comprehensive conceptual model that provides the goals and an organizational framework for all monitoring and 2) a strategic, step-by-step, iterative process that provides: a) interaction of scientists with management personnel for integrating their respective experience and expertise and b) periodic review and updating of all monitoring policies, programs, implementation, and use of data.

CONCEPTUAL MODEL OF WILDERNESS MONITORING Our conceptual model, based on the above quote from the Wilderness Act of 1964, and further, a mandate in the Act to report to the President "... on the status of the wilderness system ..." identifies three primary purposes for all wilderness monitoring: 1.to improve wilderness management (Wilderness Management Montoring); 2.to improve the acquisition and use of knowledge from wilderness (Wilderness Reference Monitoring); and 192


change are both internal (e.g., grazing) and external (e.g., air pollution) to the wilderness, can be activities (e.g., recreation) or the indirect effects of these activities (e. g. , water pollution), and can also be management actions (e.g., fire suppression). Additional threats, either existing or others that may surface in the future, are reflected in the Other category. Attributes of wilderness character we seek to protect include ecological components and processes, cultural sites, and human experiences dependent on wilderness character.

3.to improve assessment of the status and trends of the NWPS (National System Monitoring). The first two primary purposes, wilderness management monitoring and wilderness reference monitoring, can each be subdivided into two distinct goals, yielding a total of five monitoring goals. These five goals provide a conceptual and organizational framework for experiential, social, and ecological monitoring across the NWPS.

This matrix defines the entire range of potential impacts and provides an organizational framework for a monitoring program. Monitoring protocols need to be developed for assessing the magnitude of each threat and the amount of impact or change in wilderness attributes caused by these threats. For most of these threats and impacts, specific parameters (and indicators where necessary) will need to be agreed upon or developed. In some cases, for example, air pollution, considerable progress has already been made on protocols for wilderness monitoring.

Wilderness Management Monitoring Monitoring to improve wilderness management is subdivided into two goals: 1) to protect wilderness character and 2) to provide public uses to which wilderness is devoted. Wilderness ProtectionMonitoring. An essential goal of wilderness management is to protect the wilderness resource from agents that threaten any unnatural change in wilderness character. Thus, there are two distinct aspects of concern in wilderness protection monitoring: 1) the agents of change (which we call threats) and 2) the attributes of wilderness character that are threatened. These relationships are conveniently displayed as a matrix. (See Figure 1.) Agents of

Wilderness Use Monitoring. In addition to protecting the wilderness resource, the agencies that manage wilderness are directed to provide for the public purposes of recreational, scenic, scientific,

Potential Threats'

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Figure 1. Conceptual matrix for Wilderness Protection Monitoring. 193


educational, conservation, and historical uses. The goal of wilderness use monitoring would be to improve the ability of wilderness managers to provide for these purposes to which wilderness is devoted. In wilderness use monitoring, these uses are considered beneficial; whereas under wilderness protection monitoring, some of these uses are considered threats. The Wilderness Act, and subsequent legislation, also allows some uses of wilderness that are not directly related to the above recognized beneficial uses. Some of these allowable uses include grazing, m ining , subsistence, and aquaculture. Managers need to provide services to accommodate these uses, improve communication with users, and evaluate the effectiveness of these services. These relationships are illustrated as a matrix. (See Figure 2.) Each cell of the matrix represents an information and monitoring need, lying at the intersection of the various beneficial and allowable uses of wilderness with the various attributes of use or service. Wilderness Reference Monitoring Monitoring to improve the acquisition and use of knowledge from wilderness is also subdivided into two different goals: 1) to detect subtle and long term changes in global conditions and 2) to improve management of natural resources on non-wilderness lands. -

Global ChangeMonitoring. The purpose ofthis monitoring is to improve our ability to detect the subtle and long-term effects of global climatic change. Wilderness is particularly appropriate for this type of monitoring because it is relatively unaffected by human activities and in the future, wilderness and other protected lands may be the only such places remaining in our increasingly human-modified landscapes. There are several global change monitoring programs currently operating throughout the United States and the world, both within and outside of wilderness, and any new proposed monitoring program would be fully integrated with these other programs. This type of monitoring is concerned with the full breadth and depth of ecological systems and is illustrated as a matrix. (See Figure 3.) In this matrix, three primary ecological attributes of wilderness character (composition, structure, and function) are arrayed against the different levels of an ecological hierarchy (ranging from genes to the landscape or region). Global change monitoring would attempt to define baseline levels and their natural variation for each cell ofthis matrix. Ecological Reference Monitoring. The purpose of this monitoring is to produce information about wilderness ecosystems and their variation that can be used to improve the management of non-wilderness lands and natural

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Figure 2. Conceptual matrix for Wilderness Use Monitoring. 194

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Figure 3. Conceptual matrix for Wilderness Reference Monitoring. resources. A variety of ecosystems are actively managed, yet the long-term consequences of these actions are unknown. Wilderness lands, because they are relatively unmanipulated, can serve as reference benchmarks or baselines for assessing the effects of management on lands outside wilderness. The ecological understanding gained by monitoring in wilderness can be used to improve the long-term productivity and sustainability of actively managed lands.

Descriptors of the NWPS - One monitoring objective would be to simply report accurate descriptive information on the physical aspects of the NWPS, including such items as the number of individual wilderness units by state, region, and agency; the number of acres by state, region, and agency; the number of miles of trail; the number of administrative facilities in wilderness; the number and descriptions of major ecosystem types represented in the national system; the number of endangered or threatened species represented in wilderness; and the amount of comparable substitutes to wilderness available.

Ecological reference monitoring is also concerned with the full range of ecological components and processes, so the global change monitoring matrix can also be used as an organizational framework for ecological reference monitoring. (See Figure 3.) However, different parameters are likely to be selected for each cell in the matrix because ecological reference monitoring is driven by information needs specific to managing natural resources, and not detecting global change.

Threats to the NWPS - Another objective would be to maintain an accurate record of the status of threats to the NWPS. These threats would include the agents of change described in Wilderness Protection Monitoring. For purposes of National System Monitoring, this information might be obtained by aggregating the results of Wilderness Protection Monitoring for all wildernesses in the system.

National System Monitoring The purpose of this monitoring is to improve the ability of policy-makers (legislators and administrators) to assess the status of and trends in the NWPS. The emphasis here is on the entire wilderness system, not on specific areas. Unlike the previous monitoring goals, we do not offer a matrix of information needs for National System Monitoring. Instead, we suggest the following important types of information that might be included:

Trends in Condition of the NWPS Another objective of National System Monitoring would be to produce accurate knowledge about trends in the condition of the system. If a few relevant indicators are chosen as core

195


would be to document trends in the value the public places on wilderness and the benefits that accrue to individuals and society as a result of the existence and use of wilderness.

indicators, and those indicators are monitored either in every wilderness or a set of representative wildernesses, trends in the wilderness character of the system could be documented. Demands and Uses of the NWPS Accurate knowledge about trends in demand, both expressed (through use or applications for use) and latent (desired, but not achieved) would be an important objective of National System Monitoring. Policy-makers should have access to information on such things as the number and characteristics of people who visit wilderness in a year, the amount of domestic livestock grazing in wilderness each year, the quantity of minerals extracted from wilderness, the number of applications for use that were rejected, and the number and characteristics of people who wanted to visit but were not able to for reasons other than use restriction.

STRATEGIC PROCESS To move this conceptual model to a national monitoring program, we envision two relatively distinct groups of people working on two relatively distinct tasks: 1) administrators and managers with responsibility to develop policy and administrative support and 2) scientists with responsibility to develop technical knowledge. Interaction between both groups, and integration of their respective areas of expertise and recommendations, are absolutely vital to the success of a comprehensive monitoring program. Interaction and integration of ideas will most likely succeed following a step-by-step, iterative process. (See Figure 4.) This process would begin with management personnel developing initial recommendations on such issues as agency values and benefits of monitoring, the value and use of a set of core parameters by every wilderness, administrative support structures and funding mechanisms for individual wilderness

Societal Values and Benefits Associated with the NWPS - Another objective of National System Monitoring

MANAGEMENT PERSONNEL Develop policy and administrative support

SCIENTISTS Develop tec hnical knowledge

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Summarize existing knowledge

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Synthesis, Provide direction Update^ recommendations^

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Figure 4. Strategic process for integrating scientific information with management direction and review and updating of monitoring programs. 196


monitoring programs, linkage among agencies, and procedures for assuring the quality, handling, storage, and use of data. Scientists would then summarize existing knowledge related to all three purposes ofNWPS monitoring. Scientists would then be in a position to identify gaps in knowledge and issues that are likely to be of high priority. Information from both groups would then be synthesized and initial guidance and direction offered. Priorities for monitoring would need to be forged out of this synthesis. Based on this guidance, management personnel would need to review their initial recommendations, while scientists would likely need to develop more knowledge about specific threats, impacts, and monitoring protocols. Updated recommendations and new scientific information would then allow a new and more complete synthesis and integration of ideas, resulting in new guidance and direction.

quire enormous amounts of time and effort. In our view, the benefits to the NWPS clearly outweigh these costs. AUTHORS

Peter Landres David Cole Alan Watson Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute P.O. Box 8090 Missoula, MT 59807

The iterative process described above would endeavor to draw upon the expertise of both scientists and management personnel, while at the same time blurring the distinction between these two groups of people in developing the final product: a comprehensive and coordinated monitoring strategy. In addition, each iteration provides a structured process for reviewing successes and failures in all aspects of the monitoring program (conceptual development and field application), incorporating the newest scientific information, and providing timely and specific guidance to improve monitoring programs. CONCLUSIONS

The strategy or umbrella outlined above provides a comprehensive, flexible, and continually evolving program to begin monitoring the NWPS. In addition, many substantive issues will need to be resolved, or at least explicitly recognized, including agency linkages, quality assurance, systems for collecting and storing data, appropriate analysis and use of data, turf battles, an attitude of resistance to change, lack of scientific information, and lack of funding. Such a comprehensive, coordinated monitoring program will likely re197


PROTECTING NATURAL QUIET: A CASE STUDY OF GRAND CANYON NATIONAL PARK WESLEY HENRY ROBERT CHANDLER RICHARD ERNENWEIN

Grand Canyon National Park encompasses approximately 1.2 million acres of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River in northern Arizona. The park contains 277 miles of the river, which runs through a canyon that ranges from one to 25 miles wide and is over a mile deep in places. On both the South and North Rims, the terrain is generally flat, while below the rims, the topography is characterized by steep talus slopes, precipitous cliffs, crumbly decomposing rock ledges, and long, narrow side canyons. A World Heritage Site, the park is a place of tremendous natural, scenic, and cultural interest, as well as a place of beauty, peace, and awesome grandeur. These values contribute to making the park one of the most heavily visited in the world; nearly five million people visited the park by vehicle and an estimated 750,000 viewed it from tour aircraft. The Grand Canyon and aviation have a relatively long history together. The first flight in the Canyon occurred in 1919, and aerial sightseeing developed as an industry after World War II. The major growth in this industry has occurred since 1967 when the current Grand Canyon National Park Airport was completed three miles south of the park boundary. As the volume of air traffic has increased, so has the volume of complaints about the incompatibility of the industry with the park experience. Over the last several decades, air tour operators, the USDI National Park Service (NPS), and the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) intermittently struggled to arrive at an equitable solution, without complete success. It took the 1986 mid-air collision between two tour aircraft (a helicopter and a fixed wing aircraft) and the loss of 26 lives to set the stage for a more complete solution through action by the U.S. Congress.

In 1987, the U.S. Congress determined, through Public Law 100-91, that aircraft overflights were causing significant adverse effects on the natural quiet of Grand Canyon National Park and required the NPS to develop recommendations to the FAA to mitigate this problem. Based on these recommendations, the FAA developed Special Federal Aviation Regulation (SFAR) 50-2, which had the following features: • All tour operators were required to fly certain designated routes. • Rim elevations were defined for five sectors of the park based on approximate rim elevations, with flights precluded below those defined elevations. • Approximately 44 percent of the park was included in four flight-free zones where aircraft operations were prohibited below 14,500 Mean Sea Level. Public Law 100-91 also required the NPS to make a determination as to whether the final rule adopted by the FAA was successful in achieving the substantial restoration of natural quiet in the Grand Canyon. Concerns embodied in this legislation were that sound from aircraft overflights not only interfered with visitor enjoyment of the park, but also interfered with the increasingly scarce value of natural quiet, and had impacts on wildlife and cultural resources. Three years and an enormous amount of research have gone into addressing these never-before-asked questions.

DEFINING NATURAL QUIET Natural quiet is an increasingly rare, but vital

natural resource of many parks and wilderness areas, including the Grand Canyon. The term

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refers to the natural ambient sound conditions found in those parks and the absence of humanmade sounds. The Wilderness Act of 1964 defines wilderness as an area "untrammeled by man," where the "imprint of man's work is substantially unnoticeable" and which has "outstanding opportunities for solitude" (i.e., both physical and auditory). This is affirmed in legislation that establishes Grand Canyon National Park. It is also integral to NPS management policies, which recognize natural quiet as a resource that is to be preserved, a value for which parks are managed.

RESEARCH FINDINGS Among the most interesting research findings are those related to the completion of an acoustic profile across the park (Anderson et al., 1993), a study of the relationship between noise dose and visitor responses (Hornjeffeta1.,1993), acoustic modelling of the park (Fidell et al., 1993), and a survey of major user groups in the park (Baumgartner eta!., 1993). Acoustic Profiling The acoustic profiling across the park was done to examine aircraft and ambient sound conditions across the flight corridors, flight-free zones, and minimum altitude zones. This provided baseline data useful in evaluating the extent to which SFAR 50-2 has improved the situation and to evaluate any future changes. While the profiles vary dramatically based on one's location in the park, they quickly make it possible to understand how aircraft sounds penetrate the flight-free zones and interfere with the experience of some visitors on the ground. For example, the data in Figure 1. on a monitoring session in the Hermit Basin (Anderson etal. ,1993) shows the extremely quiet nature of many areas of the Canyon, the extent to which aircraft sound protrudes above the background sound levels, and the extent to which aircraft sounds penetrate deeply into the flightfree zones. While it is readily apparent totheNPS that the situation is markedly and preferably improved from the pre-SFAR period, it illustrates the immense difficulty in attempting to restore natural quiet to this situation.

PARK OBJECTIVES Management objectives related to the restoration of natural quiet in the Grand Canyon include the following: 1.Restore and maintain natural quiet by protecting the wilderness character of remote areas. 2.Provide primitive recreation opportunities without aircraft intrusion in most back-country areas, most locations on the river, and at destination points accessed by both. 3.Provide developed recreation opportunities with limited aircraft intrusions for visitors at rim-developed areas and major front-country destination points accessible by paved road. 4.Provide for protection of sensitive wild life habitat areas or cultural resources.

Dose-Response Study

5.Provide for welfare and safety of onground park visitors. 6.Provide a quality aerial viewing experience while protecting park resources (including natural quiet) and minimizing conflicts with other park visitors. (Traditionally, air tour passengers have not been considered park visitors because the NPS has no regulatory authority or management responsibility in the air space over the park.)

Dose-response relationships tell the percent of visitors who are bothered by different levels of aircraft sound. Two types of doses (Leq and percent time audible) and two responses (째 `Interference with Natural Quiet" and "Annoyance") were found to be the most useful measures. National Park Service studies suggest that: 1. visitor sensitivity varies from site to site, but increases towards the wilderness end of the spectrum; 199


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2. repeat visitors are more sensitive than first-time visitors;

determine visitors' preferences for aircraft management strategies.

3.visitors who say that enjoyment of natural quiet is important as a reason to visit the site are more sensitive to the sound of aircraft; and

Among the important findings: Despite the flight-free zones, substantial numbers of visitors still reported hearing and seeing aircraft overflights. Front-country visitors are the least impacted visitors, while fall backcountry and river (oar-powered) users are the most impacted. However, the sensitivity of many of the respondents is such that even if more restrictions were placed on overflights, it is possible that substantial numbers of visitors would still report a significant level of impact.

4. visitors in smaller groups are more sensitive that those in larger groups. One of the key relationships defined is displayed in Figure 2. This relationship, where it applies, will guide the NPS in determining thresholds of impact, exploring mitigation strategies and monitoring change. Acoustic Modelling

The opportunity to experience natural quiet was rated as one of the most important reasons for visiting the park, and that opportunity was rated as more important than the potential benefits of overflight. Back-country and river (oar-powered) visitors placed the most importance on natural quiet.

When the current aircraft overflight situation is computer modelled using geographic information system software (Fidell et al., 1993), this again suggests the difficulty in restoring natural quiet to Grand Canyon National Park, even using flight-free zones. The modelling suggests that aircraft are audible and noticeable over large portions of the park for 100 percent of the time; and complete natural quiet prevails only in tiny segments ofthe park, primarily in the center ofthe flight-free zones. Further improvement to the situation may be possible through increasing the slant range (altitude and/or distance) from critical points, use of quieter and/or larger aircraft, reducing flight operations/noise budgets, and other approaches to regulating capacity, noise fees, etc.

Visitors regarded air rescue and park management flights as the most beneficial and appropriate, while military overflights were viewed as least beneficial and appropriate. Air tours got a more mixed response on both counts. In a trade-off situation, reducing visitors' exposure to aircraft overflights was viewed as outweighing the benefits resulting from such flights by most respondents. Standards for air tour sightseeing, commercial, and private aircraft flights ranged from one to three flights per eight-hour period.

Visitor Survey

Surveys were conducted with five major visitor groups at Grand Canyon National Park: 1) summer front-country visitors, 2) summer backcountry visitors, 3) fall back-country visitors, 4) river visitors who took motor-powered trips, and 5) river visitors who took oar-powered trips. The objectives were to determine the percentage of visitors exposed to aircraft sounds, identify and evaluate specific impacts of aircraft overflights on visitors, determine the importance of natural quiet to visitors, identify visitors' perceptions of the benefits of aircraft overflight, examine visitors' attitudes about the appropriateness and standards for aircraft overflight activity, and

Visitors preferred a reduction or elimination in military and private aircraft flights. Support for air tours and commercial flights was fairly evenly split: nearly as many favoring reducing or eliminating overflights as compared to those who wanted to maintain current levels. At a minimum, most respondents did not want to 201


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Figure 2. Interference (moderate to extreme) with natural quiet versus percentage of time that aircraft can be heard.

202


thoughtfully if park and wilderness values are to be maintained for future generations, and the resources important to sustaining the air tour industry are to be preserved. Striving for the best balance between use and preservation in the air and on the ground will need to be an ongoing management process.

see an increase in aircraft operations levels, and substantial numbers supported a decrease. If restrictions were needed, respondents were most supportive of using quieter aircraft and limiting the number of aircraft overflights.

REFERENCES

The conclusion is that while the flight-free zones have brought major improvements, they have not been effective in fully achieving a substantial restoration of natural quiet.

Anderson, G., R. Baumgartner, R. Homjeff, C. McDonald, C. Menge, N. Miller, W. Robert, C. Rossano, and G. Sanchez. 1993. Doseresponse relationships derived from data collected at Grand Canyon, Haleakala, and Hawaii Volcanoes National Parks. Report 29094.14. USNPS.

LOOKING TO THE FUTURE It is clear that natural quiet cannot be restored while aircraft are overflying the canyon. But the improvements are significant, and this is particularlytrue ofthe front-country rim visitors who are most protected from and less sensitive to aircraft sound levels in the park. It should also be noted that the air tour industry, which has seen its operations level double since the mid-air collision, has not been hurt by the imposition of regulations. Given what is now known, the most important and immediate questions would seem to be whether improvements can be made to the SFAR so that back-country and river users are better protected, and how to limit future increases in sound levels so that progress made to date will not be lost.

Baumgartner, R., C. McDonald, and N. Miller. 1993. Aircraft management studies: Grand Canyon visitor survey. Report 290940.19. USNPS. Fidel, S., K. Pearsons, and M. Sneddon. 1993. Evaluation of the effectiveness of SFAR 502 in restoring natural quiet to Grand Canyon National Park. Report 7197. USNPS. Hornjeff, R., Y. Kimura, N. Miller, W. Robert, C. Rossano, and G. Sanchez. 1993. Aircraft management studies: Acoustic data collected at Grand Canyon, Haleakala, and Hawaii Volcanoes National Parks. Report 29094.18. USNPS.

The park is evaluating these research findings with respect to its objectives to identify where its most serious problems appear to exist. This information will then be discussed in a workshop with participants from the NPS, FAA, air tour industry, conservation organizations, and other concerned parties. The focus will be on how to improve the current SFAR, dealing with projected increases in use, and how to provide incentives for the introduction and use of quiet aircraft technology. Research findings and workshop results will be tied together in a report to the U.S. Congress that will contain recommendations on future management.

Wesley Henry Ranger Activities Division USDI National Park Service P.O. Box 37127 Washington, DC 20013

Natural quiet is an increasingly rare and endangered value of parks and wilderness areas; the finite nature of airspace is also being recognized. The capacity of the airspace--as well as the capacity of the landscape--need to be addressed

Richard Ernenwein Denver Service Center USDI National Park Service 12795 West Alameda Parkway Denver, CO 80225

AUTHORS

Robert Chandler Grand Canyon National Park P.O. Box 29 Grand Canyon, AZ

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Part 4: Use of Wilderness for Personal Growth, Therapy, and Education


P ON CROSSING AND NOT CROSSING THE WILDERNESS BOUNDARY ROBERT GREENWAY

Beware, white man, of playing with magic of the primitive. It maybe strong medicine. It may kill you. Ye, sons and daughters, foster children of the cities, if ye would go to the wilderness in search of your Mother, be careful and circumspect, lest She lure you into Her secret places, whence ye may not come back (de Angulo, 1974).

The issues found in "The Experience of Wilderness" are based on a rapidly emerging body of work, somewhat parallel and complimentary to eco-philosophy and deep ecology, called ecological psychology. Using ecological psychology, several U.S. and Canadian wilderness researchers are seeking an underlying model that would allow us to express what poets and nature writers have long been expressing about wilderness, the wilderness experience, and the relationship between culture and nature (Greenway, 1993; and Roszak, 1992.)

PREFACE At times I find myself longing for the world of Thoreau or Muir, or for that of my own youth, when wilderness was not so much a cultural idea, but a place where the full range of natural processes could find their balance and visitors infrequently penetrated. As Nash (1982), Oelschlaeger (1991), LaChapelle (1988), and many others have so clearly articulated, wilderness is not just a place, a remnant of what once was, a commodity, or the missing Elder or Mother. Instead, wilderness is a complex of ideas, profoundly intertwined with the past and present of our civilization and our hopes and fears for a future. It is a place of tension, acrimony, and poignant beauty that often stands in sharp contrast to the ravages of civilization. In this paper, I consider the current rush to use wilderness for various psychological purposes of civilization, and I look back at my own work of more than 20 years--taking university students and others on extended stays into the wilderness and then back again into our urbanized world. Considerable confusion surrounds the use of wilderness for "therapy, learning, and inspiration," especially around the attempts to research the much vaunted "wilderness effect" (Hendee and Brown, 1988). 205

THE WILDERNESS EFFECT What a shock it is to our psychic system to suddenly drop out of the immense over-stimulation that our culture has become. Trees and streets, telephone poles and cars racing by our eyes, joggling our peripheral vision; flights across continents and oceans, millions of sparking dots forming into TV-images; concerts, pounding drums on stereos, parties and words, and signs and symbols awash in images of stylized feminine bodies, moment by moment, crashing into our circuitry... and then, suddenly, few or no words, sounds only of rivers and wind in trees, heartbeats and breaths, the crackling of a fire, night sounds of the forest, bird calls . . . and the ears and eyes and nose and skin open in wonder, wider and wider, colors and smells and shapes becoming more vivid as if shells and scales are being removed. The mind drinks in view after view of forces and systems in bal'Greenway, R. 1993. Unpublished manuscript.


ance, dying and rebirth all around, a river in full health flows, meandering along paths ofleast resistance; the most disruptive perception is a path through the forest that also meanders here and there like a peaceful, gentle light into the canyons of our hearts.. 2 Hendee and Pitstick (1993) reported that the therapeutic use of wilderness is an expanding type of usage. They have surveyed thousands of groups and individuals using wilderness for a variety of social purposes. Hundreds of research studies are claiming that wilderness has a profound affect on people (Goleman, 1993). The wilderness effect, as it is being called, is increasingly accepted as a given, justified by colloquial accounts: most people who spend time in the wilderness do not attempt to duplicate the comforts of their home culture, experience, or thinkthey experience, something profound. This, of course, though probably exacerbated by the stresses of modern civilization, is not new--the "effect of the natural" has been recorded by Israelite psalmists, ancient Chinese sages, poets of the Middle Ages, on through Thoreau and Muir into our own time, even through the waxing and waning of public attitudes towards wilderness as depicted by Nash (1982) and Oelschlaeger (1991). The wilderness effect is also often associated with healing, craziness, spiritual crises, and adventure--all clearly implying a contrast with common reality as found in one's home culture (Duerr, 1987). The wilderness effect often includes such psychological ideas as "increased sensory awareness," "shifts in perception," and the "oceanic experience" (a la Freud); "peak experiences" (a la Maslow); "archetypal experiences" (a la Jung); "soul experiences" (a la Hillman); and "transcendent experiences" (a la the trans-personal psychologists). The wilderness effect often implies expansion or re-connection--the expansion of self and the reconnecting with past adaptations

(e. g. , going back to our pre-paleolithic existence), natural cycles, natural systems of death, fear, violence, beauty, and elegance connected in wondrous balance. Another association ofthe wilderness effect is the release of repression. Wilderness users in this camp tend to see the source of the impact of the wilderness experience not so much as coming from the external wilderness, but from the internal wilderness that emerges when repression, inherent in the culture, is diminished or removed. Certainly, no agreement exists on how to define the wilderness effect. A wilderness program rarely includes more than one or a few of the above viewpoints. Each different psychological theory or avoidance of any theory or psychology will shape different strategies with different goals and results. RESEARCHING THE WILDERNESS EFFECT Assuming wilderness is separate from culture and can be more fully experienced without cultural interference, then it follows that culturebound research techniques distort or diminish the accuracy of wilderness study. One also wonders what social or personal forces are pushing the research, for it seems that a line has been crossed in recent years where proof ofthe benefits and full explication of the wilderness effect has become essential. Perhaps research on the wilderness effect is sparked by the sheer numbers of people using the resource; perhaps it is a symptom of a culture desperate for heating or a release from urban life. Perhaps it is sparked by the budget cuts among federal agencies needing more efficient therapies; or by the tendency of the immense academic psychological establishment to penetrate every corner of life, no matter how personal or sacred; or by the passionate curiosity of such leaders of wilderness management as John Hendee who would like to see the wilderness effect grounded in fact, if not wisdom.

Nonetheless, such a variety of reasons for researching the wilderness effect poses immense 2Greenway, R. 1993. Unpublished manuscript. ^ 206


open to "whatever comes up," fishing for information among questionnaires, interviews, observations, anecdotal records, and incident reports. Still, every set of results surprises me.

difficulties for the researcher. Questions emerge such as: How can results be compared and conditions codified for widespread research? How does one approach a phenomenon that appears highly pleasurable and profoundly transfonnational, aesthetic, and energizing, and yet lasts minimally upon return to the culture?

I have linked patterns with age, gender, time of year, and composition of groups and then further linked these patterns with more subtle and esoteric factors such as where the experience took place. In summary, the questions I have been asking for years precisely reflect the spec ific goals of my program:

My Own Research I have been conducting wilderness trips in a university setting for 22 years, have my own approach for studying "wilderness for personal growth," (Hendee and Pitstick, 1993) and make no claims that my results are generalizable to other approaches. I do not believe the therapeutic effects of wilderness can be proven by scientifically objective measures and with statistical confidence. Nor am I fully confident that, within the dynamics of my own culture, these effects are in fact therapeutic, whether proven or not. I have observed many (mostly futile) attempts to prove beneficial outcomes ofvarious psychotherapeutic approaches and realize wilderness therapy deals with even more variables; for example, the whole, shifting panorama of the infinite systems of nature (Hillman and Ventura, 1992; and Luborsky et al., 1975).

1. Does the wilderness experience offer new or unique opportunities for awareness and forms of relationship? 2. What is the core dynamic (the core wilderness experience and process) that triggers the wilderness effect? 3. How does my approach compare with other wilderness approaches? 4. What are the implications, theoretically and practically, of so many inferring spiritual qualities to the wilderness experience? 5. What does the wilderness experience reveal, if anything, about unconscious and trans-personal processes?

While studying the wilderness experience, I honor it as an experience of exquisite beauty, of obvious impact on individuals, and so profound and complex that using the word spiritual seems appropriate. Whatever the wilderness experience is, and whatever its benefits, it is worthy of respect and a flexible research approach.

6. Do people really benefit, onthewhole, from the wilderness experience? If so, in what ways and for how long? 7. What are the dynamics ofthe culturenature interface, and how is this manifested?

As with much participatory anthropological research, my approach has been rooted within the process and confirmed by experience. Objectivity is an interesting and useful mode of knowing, but should not be mistaken for the reality of experience. I have tried to avoid grabbing hold of symbols and findings to create theories.

8. Can cultural influences be de-conditioned, and in what ways can the wilderness experience facilitate this? 9. What does the group process have to do with the enhancement or diminishment ofthe wilderness experience? What does it have to do with solitude?

I have arduously searched for things to measure and correlate; formulated hypotheses and tested for them; and described and attempted to remain 207


10. How can relationships with natural processes be established without needbased "egoic" dominance, projection, or other "egoic" and cultural projectional maneuvers? How can relationships be fully accurate ? Comparing these goals with the goals of some other organized approaches may be useful, for example:

Social Agency - To enhance functioning with regard to a specific social task within the culture such as getting a job, becoming more successful in work situations or relationships, adjusting to societal stresses, working more successfully on a corporate team, and overcoming an addiction. Hendee - To allow core patterns, feelings, beliefs, values, and social interactions to emerge and to use this heightened state of personal and social awareness to bring one to a growing edge where one's behavior can be understood, evaluated, and affirmed or redirected. 3. Anonymous - To experience nature, have a good time, recharge one's inner batteries, get a perspective on things, and/or get away from the kids. 4. River-Rafting, Company - To have an adventure in complete comfort and safety that will fully awaken a person. 5. Outward Bound - To affirm personal strengths, not provide therapy or rehabilitation or address psychological issues. 6. Center for Light, Love, and Laughter To focus on the silent contemplation of nature and our relationship to it by leaving all aspects of the culture behind (except for food and shelter). 7. Earthways - To stretch one's limits and explore one's inner wilderness by living in a natural environment, where

it is possible to expand one's sense of self and depth of being. Some Assumptions Underlying My Approach My wilderness approach defines transformation as the re-establishment of a healthy human-nature relationship with enough de-conditioning of culture for connections with natural processes to be made. Thus, my wilderness trips are as much about discovering relationships with culture as they are about healing relationships with nature. I assume that we all are immersed in natural processes, but somehow think we're not. The intricate inter-reinforcing web of myths, stories, habits, traditions, ideologies, belief systems, and modes of knowing gives us our destructive stance with regard to nature. Macro places in the system such as greed are symptoms, and the more fundamental psychological information (reality-producing) process is the root cause. The wilderness experience seems to disrupt these fundamental programs of information processing. Finally, I assume that no adequate philosophy or psychology exists to give logical language to these processes, though emerging eco-philosophy and ecopsychology movements are attempting to do so; and poets and writers such as William Blake, William Wordsworth, Walt Whitman, Theodore Roethke, Gary Snyder, Jane Hirschfield, Michael McClure, and Diane DePrima through the years have more or less accurately diagnosed the wounding process. Summary of a Typical Trip So that my approach can be examined comparatively, a brief summary of one ofmy trips follows. Each trip usually last two weeks, rarely less, and sometimes three or four weeks. Participants come from the university community, which can include professors, graduate students, local psychotherapists and psychiatrists, and various wilderness leaders from around the country. (We have had exchange programs with such organizations as Outward Bound.) The average age of participants is 29 or 30 years old. 208


threatening situations is decided by consensus. A group may be athletic, energetic, full of many ideas and plans or quiet and contemplative (or even lazy). Leaders make suggestions, sometimes quite often and sometimes rarely. Thus, the group quickly becomes empowered, which reduces stress and makes a much safer trip and a more pleasant group.

Participants begin preparing for the trip three to eight weeks in advance. They are assigned readings, hold discussions, grow from a class of strangers to a tight-knit community, and begin cultural de-conditioning practices such as meditation and yoga (practices that often continue during and after the trip as a means to minimi ze culture shock upon return). Singing sessions serve to relax and unify the group, enabling deep sharing without didactic explanations.

Because the context of this work is an ongoing college community, with accounts of past trips lurking about, a mystique surrounds the class and many practices are repeated. Groups often adopt time alone, lasting three or four days; all-night chanting rituals; climbs to peaks at sunrise or sunset; separate camps for several days for men and women (with often highly ritualized ways of coming back together); and sometimes carefully conducted sweat lodges. Sometimes a trip is occupied with inclement weather, illness, or something to work out in the group. As with Outward Bound, trips are not advertised as therapy but rather as an opportunity to explore one's relationship with nature. Many people use the trip to achieve personal goals.

All participants must become aerobically fit during the preparation period and be able to carry a weighted pack (approximately 50 pounds) up a nearby mountain about 19 days prior to the trip. Those who cannot keep up with their aging leader (me) must drop out and wait for another trip. (The class is usually booked several years in advance.) The average size of each group is 13 participants, never more than 16, including a leader and assistants. Food is carefully selected to be nutritious and just enough. Only items essential for health and safety are allowed. Everything is ritualized by the time the trip begins--driving to the trail head, dividing the food, weighing packs, distributing community equipment, and attending to health and safety practices. We do not step on the trail until we are fully satisfied that the group is grounded in health practices and has come together as a working unit. In 22 years, I have never had an accident of any consequence. Other aspects of the trip are ritualized: crossing rivers, walking (i.e., distance between hikers, walking in silence, pace, etc.), cooking (i.e., everyone takes a turn), putting up tarps with alacrity (we rarely take tents), and learning noimpact camping techniques. The ambiguity about destinations, the distance to be hiked each day, and any plan soon conveys the idea that we are already where we set out to be, doing what we came to do. Within a few days, participants speak of being "home" and of experiencing a deep familiarity with what we are doing.

Participants often become ebullient to find that fears prior to the trip have proved unfounded. Occasionally, someone will express boredom or try and goad the group into conflict or daring feats. For the most part, being in the wilderness, alone and together, unfolds as an incredible drama of great beauty, and the simple acts of moving together, leaving no trace, cooking, sleeping, and using the necessary skills to perform these acts becomes fully occupying. No means exists to adequately convey what the trips are really like, and every trip is remarkably different. The following prose written after a trip might convey a slight flavor of this particular approach and what is meant by transformation: There were 12 of us on a warm June day along the upper reaches of the Middle Fork of the Eel River in California (one of the few completely healthy, undammed rivers left in the state). As it happened, we were six men and six women, two of whom were sisters, one

The pace, direction, and many activities are decided by the group--everything short of life209


without image. We came upon a huge pool that seemed bottomless, shades of blue-green darkening almost to black in the depths, sheer walls of blue-gray slate rising 30 feet above either bank, huge rounded boulders above and below the pool over which the water poured in gushing waterfalls. We fell silent at the sight, knowing somehow that this would be the turning point, the most sacred, the place of furthest wilderness for this day, for this trip, for this time in our lives, perhaps in our entire lives.

22, the other 14; their father was one of the men. We were near the end of our two-week trip and had gone deep into the wilderness, and as deep into our hearts and minds. We had been astonished at how, in retrospect, our precious assumptions about ourselves and our abilities to feel and understand now seemed so limited. We had awakened our bodies by plunging daily into the still-frigid snow-fed waters, awakened the sun from the peaks at dawn, and chanted nonsense sounds alone and together that would not stay contained in our own separateness. We had prayed and laughed and cried, told our stories, shared long silences, and became children again.

No one spoke as, one by one, we entered the pool. Later someone would comment that, for the first time on the trip, the water did not shock us. We swam, crawled onto the hot rocks, warming our bodies on the smooth surfaces and curves we each found. Many of us slept for a time. Some spoke later of amazin gly lucid dreams.

We had gone out alone like heroes and heroines on grail quests in search of dramatic and important visions that would guide our lives and instead found in tiny scale and modest simplicity perfection all around us: a column of ants dragging the last remnants of mayflies; sensuous manzan ita trunks rising like red-muscled limbs out of the banks of chartreusegreen moss; small trout flashing in the pools; every little soon-to-be-dry brook a perfect series of miniature waterfalls, making chords with the pools as if tuned by master musicians intimate with our deepest longings. We had fasted, and with parched lips facing east all day had felt the sun moving over our heads from front to back, the north wind drying our tears as we waited and watched, releasing slow breath by slow breath into deepening surrender, into webs of meanings for which we had taken birth.

After awhile, we gravitated towards a large flat space on top of one of the rocks next to the pool and formed a circle, our habit over the previous 12 days. And then there was no distance, an openness into ourselves that was an openness to each other, and which embraced the pool, the river, and further out into the wilderness, the other world, the whole Earth, the universe. We looked frankly at each other, enjoying our clear eyes, our health, smiling, weeping, seeing each other as if for the first time; as if there had never been any distance. Some spoke quietly from their hearts about simple things--a memory, a thanks, a question. We sang some of the songs that had been most helpful to us, drawing out our best voices, blending in with the sound of the river.

And so, back together after such work on this particular day, our last before leaving, we scrambled down river over rocks and through pools, splashing noisily, beyond where we could be found, pulled to something, some place, completely

Then a shadow passed over us, a rare golden eagle passing between us and the sun, and we saw that shadows had lengthened along the canyon walls. With a wild 210


cry someone jumped up and dived into the pool. We all followed. The water was icy, shocking us, making our skin feel taut.

•^stress immediately upon return, then a rise of stress to a level higher than before the trip, and then a gradual decline to around the pre-trip rating;

We slowly walked back to our camp and quietly cooked our meal, a little shy, many deeply looking into the fire. The 14-year-old sister said that night in our last circle: "Now I'm ready to go back to the other world. I choose not to let a day like this become a common thing. 3

•^60 percent of the men and 20 percent of the women stated that a major goal of the trip was to conquer fear, challenge themselves, and expand limits;

57 percent of the women and 27 percent of the men stated that a major goal of the trip was to "come home," "return to where I most belong," or a similar statement;

"

EXAMPLES OF SOME FINDINGS

From the more than 1,380 participants in this program, I have collected approximately 700 questionnaires; 700 interviews; 52 longitudinal studies; over 300 personal stories, myths, and poems; and results of various tests and measures. A few patterns that have emerged include:

60 percent stated thattheyhad adopted at least one ritual or skill learned and practiced on the trip (e.g. tuning into Earth cycles ofthe sun, moon, tides, or seasons; or chanting, yoga, or prayer);

• 90 percent of all respondents described an increased sense of aliveness, wakefulness, well-being, or energy;

92 percent cited time alone as the most important experience of the trip; 73 percent cited getting up before dawn and climbing a ridge or peak in order to greet the sun as the second most important experience of the trip; and

• 90 percent stated that the experience allowed them to break an addiction; • 81 percent described an increased sense of empowerment;

82 percent called the trip "one of the most important experiences of my life." These are some reasons why:

• 80 percent found the return initially pleasant or joyful;

I am as much nature as culture.

• 53 percent found that within 48 hours the initial positive feelings turned to depression (sometimes severe);

I learned that I have to heal if our culture is going to heal. I learned that I can sing really well.

• 77 percent described a "major life change" upon return (e.g., in personal relationships, employment, housing, and academic progress-usually for the worse);

I found out that the sun is my ancestor and never fails. Mental health is not the same as wilderness; it is more like a garden, a balance between mind and nature.

•^70 percent of those tested for stress before and after a trip (110 participants) showed an initial lowering of

Addiction results from something being left out.

Greenway, R. 1993. The experience of wilderness. Unpublished manuscript.

I learnedthat the onlytrue freedom is an integration of nature and culture.

3

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I am a complete person, much more complete than the person I was before. Below all the anger and pain is a fountain of basic goodness--harsh but good. The Prevalence of Fear If participants experience a deep-level shaking or disruption in their mode of processing the wilderness experience, then frequent references to fear are usually made. Rarely does someone not mention fear duringthetrip. Typical descriptions of fear on post-trip questionnaires include: • It was inexplicable--vague, yet real, like I've never felt. Everything familiar seemed to be falling away, and it was scary. • I saw death everywhere the moment we entered the wilderness, and for a little while I became terrified that I might die any minute. I' d neve r thought much about death before. • I became convinced the Earth would be blown up by terrorists or somebody while we were out in the wilderness, and I wouldn't get to tell my family good-bye. • When you said it felt like a big stone was coming, and I knew we couldn't get any weather reports, I panicked. • I was afraid a cowboy (hunter, fraternity guy, man, or logger) would attack me during time alone. • I was afraid the group would see what a jerkIam. We have almost no reports of fear of the dark (flashlights are not allowed on the trips), possibly because almost all of our trips occur during bright moonlit periods. Few participants mention fear of heights, possibly because we do not undertake technical climbs. We find no correlation between

the intensity of joy or pleasure experienced and attitudes expressed upon return, although those showing depression upon return had almost universally expressed, in one way or another, deep satisfaction with the trip. Dreams Among the most vivid findings are changes in dream patterns. Seventy-six percent of all respondents reported dramatic changes in quantity, vividness, and context of dreams within 48 hours of entering the wilderness. Eighty-two percent of those expressed a change of content of their dreams from "busy," "urban," or scenarios of conflicts to dreams about the group or some aspect of the wilderness. On the average, it takes three or four days for people's dreams to catch up with them. This finding seems to indicate that our culture is only four days deep... Gender The differences found in statements between men and women are so pervasive, matching in-field observations, that it seems men and women have, on the whole, rather profoundly different wilderness experiences. The transition into wilderness seems easier for women; the transition back into culture seems easier for men. Women tend not to be as interested in going anywhere once they have entered the wilderness; men quite frequently want to cruise and climb. SOME COMMENTS ON THE ABOVE FINDINGS I think it's obvious that even within a relatively similar population and stable set of goals and procedures, people have a variety of wilderness experiences. I have spent considerable time linking similarities in and differences between peoples' responses to the wilderness experience to the hypothesis that the differences are rooted in different modes of processing. Thus, I posit a gradient between the polarity of culture and nature of the wilderness effect--from none (i.e., no effect) to a complete blow-out of 212


function within cultural norms. Other wilderness trips are oriented to goals that are fully compatible within cultural norms and engender personal transformation. I have found this distinction to be helpful as a hypothesis as to why participants on short trips tend to fare better in the culture than those on long trips; or as to why ay goals of different wilderness trips are attained.

one's usual methods of processing reality. It could also be hypothesized that somewhere along this gradient is a transition point where one's mode of information processing switches from culture-dominated ( in our culture, this would be dualistic-processing) to nature-dominated (which would depend on a person's ability to accurately access natural processes rather than project or distort them).

The questions still remain: How much of culture does one leave behind when entering the wilderness for an extended stay? How much of wilderness can coexist with a culture that, inadvertently or otherwise, is killing it?

I suggest calling this point along the gradient between culture and nature the psychological wilderness boundary, meaning that everyone enters the wilderness physically, but many avoid entering (or are unable to enter) the wilderness psychologically. Whether one does so or not depends on variables such as the length of stay, amount of cultural reminders, goals of the leader and/or group, structured or unstructured nature of the trip, and so on.

MY MODEL

My model for obtaining a balanced relationship with nature is based on 22 years of experience in taking people in and out of the wilderness and on the current ecopsychologymovement, which seeks a language drawn from the science of ecology and a variety ofpsychologies to articulate the humannature relationship. To begin the personal and cultural rehabilitation of a balanced relationship with nature one must:

On the cultural side of the psychological boundary are short trips with goals such as empowerment and adjustment to various cultural demands.

On the wilderness side ofthe psychological boundary are transformative trips in which a certain portion of the culture-bound information processing is dissolved or diminished and exchanged with nature-bound information processing. Nothing is wrong with adjustment or empowerment, except when the culture one becomes empowered within or adjusts to is destructive.

1.become aware of the dynamics of relationship by learning to recognize an example (via a model, vision, or direct experience) of a healed relationship and resolving at least one dualism in one's personal life;

On the other hand, if one crosses the psychological boundary into wilderness and undergoes a transformation of information processing, the experience of returning to the psychological processes of the culture will be one of dissonance. The assumption behind this dichotomy is that Western culture is more or less destructive in nature. Therefore, personal transformation with regard to the human-nature relationship must take place out ofculture and will be, more or less, in conflict with Western culture.

2. cross the wilderness boundary psychologically through ritual, contemplation, leaving behind the myths and programming of our dominant culture, letting the wilderness be the full reality, and experiencing with out projection; 3. experience life without cultural time structures; 4. create a community of support for oneself based on the natural processes of cooperation, sharing, respect, and commonly shared de-conditioning practices;

Many of the culture-nature relationship issues are oversimplified, however. Some wilderness trips decondition participants' cultural modes of information processing such that transformation takes place and participants are still able to 213


have someone read the newspaper to everyone, keep performing the rituals and practicing the skills learned during the trip, listen to quiet music, and send only one person on the first trip to the supermarket).

5. realize one's degree ofdisjunction from the four elements (earth, water, air, and fire) and reestablish non-dominating, non-exploiting relationships with each; 6. distinguish and orient the four directions as a means of finding one's place in the world;

2. Leave the wilderness without regret. Let it go. Rather, plan to return soon. (Remember, the healing is in the transition back and forth.)

7. balance solitude with group/community activities to practice the wilderness-culture interface;

3. Develop a political and cultural relationship with the wilderness you visitâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;become responsible for its cleanup, health, management, protection, and history (both natural and cultural).

8. practice full honesty by noting exactly how you feel, saying exactly what you mean, and doing exactly what you say, as if seeing the wilderness through the "honest" images of death, rotting logs, and animal dung;

4. Rigorously continue de-conditioning practices, so your information processing will not become embedded in the culture, but can move across the psychological boundary of wilderness wherever you are . (Healing should be continuous, not wilderness dependent.)

9. care for one's healing process; 10. clean up the messes of past users; and 11. awaken, through all of the above, a sense of aesthetics, love, and sacredness and ponder how to continue arousing these senses in the culture.

5. Continue with your wilderness community of support, which professes the need for a healed relationship with nature and enjoys reality-constructing processes done together--something like a 12-step group for those in recovery from civilization.

If these conditions are met, participants might disengage from the culture enough to experience nature in its full, systemic health. ^That is the ground of transformation. These are the conditions that reflect the goals and procedures of my work.

6. Become aware of the following culture-nature intertwines and use them to become continuously aware of the nature-culture interface (i.e., get them in balance):

ABOUT THE RETURN

Likely everyone who is seeking a full transformational relationship with wilderness will experience difficulty with the return to culture to some degree. The following conditions might serve to diminish loss of benefits from the experience:

a. food gathering and hunting; b. cooking and eating; c. gardening and taking care of pets; d. sexual intimacy; e. child rearing; and f. shelter and warmth.

1. Come back as slowly as possible, preferablyde-compressing in half-way houses for several days prior to full entry in the culture (e.g., only watch a few minutes of the news each day,

7. Stay as aware as possible of the four elements (earth, water, air, and fire), the four directions, and celestial events, even from within the heart of the city. 214


—. 1930. Individualism: Old and new. New York City: G.P. Putnam and Sons.

Keep breathing, swallowing, blinking, sneezing, and noticing the digestive process. These are the wilderness too.

Duerr, P. 1987. Dreamtime: Concerning the boundary between wilderness and civiliration. New York City: Basil Blackwell.

9. Look for that which is not culture everywhere, even while riding in an elevator or driving on the freeway. Notice how humans are immersed in processes that naturally evolved and were not created by human invention.

Goleman, D. Return to the wild. New York Times. 29 Aug. 1993. Hendee, J., and M. Brown. 1988. How wilderness experience programs work for personal growth, therapy, and education: An explanatory model. In: The highest use of wilderness: Using wilderness experience programs to develop human potential. Fort Collins, Colo.: International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation; and Moscow, Id.: Wilderness Research Center, University of Idaho.

FINALLY...

Humans have believed that they are above the natural processes rather than immersed in them. They have thought, and taught their children to think, that they could control nature through technological manipulation. Fortunately, this is changing.

Hendee, J., and R. Pitstick. 1993. The use of wilderness for personal growth, therapy, and inspiration. In: Proceedings ofthe 5th World Wilderness Congress (Tromso, Norway).

Rather, humans are discovering that they can severely damage nature and have no choice but to find their appropriate role amidst the infinite webs of natural processes. Somewhere in there-assuming we are not a mutation that failed— humans can make a contribution to the whole--something unique, comparable to the eagle's sight, the dolphin's hearing, and the salmon's perfect motion.

Hillman, J., and M. Ventura. 1992. We've had 100 years of psychotherapy, and the world's getting worse. San Francisco: Harpers. LaChapelle, D. 1988. Sacred land, sacred sex-Rapture ofthe deep: Concerning deep ecology and celebrating life. Silverton, Colo.: Finn Hill Arts.

Perhaps the wilderness experience can help us reconnect and open up to the wisdom inherent in the information system ofthe natural networks of nature. But healing needs to take place outside the wilderness. If the growth, learning, and inspiration ofthe wilderness experience is meant to serve the culture, let it be done in the culture. Part of our recovery is to learn to let wilderness be. If we use it, let us use it in ways that will further its rehabilitation as well as ours. REFERENCES

de Angulo, J. 1974. The lariat. Berkeley: Turtle Island Foundation.

Luborsky, L., B. Singer, and L. Luborsky. 1975. Comparative studies of psychotherapies. Archives ofGeneral Psychiatry 32:995-1005. Maslow, A. 1968. Toward a psychology of being. Second edition. Princeton: Van Nostrand. Nash, R. 1982. Wilderness and the American mind. Third edition. New Haven: Yale University Press. Oelschlaeger, M. 1991. The idea of wilderness— From prehistory to the age of ecology. New Haven: Yale University Press. 215


Roszak, T. 1992. The voice of the Earth. New York City: Simon and Schuster. AUTHOR Robert Greenway (on leave) Department of Psychology Sonoma State University Rohnert Park, CA 94928 Robert Greenway (private address) Corona Farm 1611 Corona Road Port Townsend, WA 98368

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THE WILDERNESS DISCOVERY PROGRAM FOR POVERTY YOUTH IN THE USDA FOREST SERVICEâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;CURLEW JOB CORPS CONSERVATION CENTER IN THE COLVILLE NATIONAL FOREST RANDALL PITSTICK JOHN HENDEE IVY LANTHIER We each need to assess our own rela-^2. to improve students' abilities to live tionship to the natural world and renew,^and travel in balance with nature and at the deepest level of personal integ-^each other; rity, a connection to it (Gore, 1992).

through journal writing, individual, and group processes, to enable students to clarify their current transitions, personal identities, and roles in society, thereby creating opportunities for new visions and possibilities;

INTRODUCTION The use ofwildemess for personal growth, therapy, and inspiration is a well-established activity in the United States and many other countries. Benefits of such use are documented in literally hundreds of studies that consistently note increased self-esteem and sense of personal control by participants completing wilderness programs. Some key studies such as Burton (1981), Kaplan and Kaplan (1989), and others have noted significantly greater effects on participants from poverty and/or delinquent backgrounds. We implemented and evaluated a week-long wilderness experience program for disadvantaged youth in the Curlew Job Corps Conservation Center in the Colville National Forest. Job Corps students are young people at risk, attempting to overcome years of social, economic, physical, sexual, emotional, and psychological marginalization, as well as the consequences of poor choices. Our goal was to establish a program that would enhance students' abilities and performance both within the Job Corps program and in their transition to contemporary society. Our objectives included: to help individuals improve self-esteem and awareness by applying and expanding the Job Corps social skills curriculum in a wilderness living situation;

4. to help each individual develop a personal action plan for completing the Job Corps program, securing employment and movement towards her or his goals and a more productive and rewarding role in society; 5. to create a data base for assessing the Wilderness Discovery (WD) contributions to subsequent successes of Job Corps participants; 6. to provide a quality wilderness experience for impoverished youth who normally lack such opportunities; and 7. to perfect the WD program for potential future adoption at other Job Corps centers.

THE FEDERAL JOB CORPS The Job Corps, funded by the federal government, is a 27-year-old, one-billion-dollar-plus, voluntary residential training and education program for unemployed high school drop-out youth ages 16 to 24. There are 109 Job Corps centers nationwide, serving more than 122,000 youth (R. Navarro and Associates, 1992). Natural re217


source agencies under contract with the U.S. Department of Labor operate 30 of these centers, and the remainder are operated under contract to private organizations. Students may stay in the Job Corps up to two years, and, if successful, graduate with a high school equivalency degree (GED), apprentice or pre-apprentice rank in a skilled trade such as carpentry, brick masonry, cooking, welding, clerical, etc., and substantial social and life skills education.

mon to many of the potential participants in the program: • youths ranging in age from 16 to 24 years old; • a maturity level lower than biological age would indicate; • a history of living at or below the poverty line;

WILDERNESS DISCOVERY

• academic achievement typically undervalued;

Wilderness Discovery is the first wilderness experience program designed specifically to enhance personal growth for Job Corps students and thus enhance progress in Job Corps training and future life prospects. The USDA Forest Service operates the Curlew Job Corps Civilian Conservation Center in the Colville National Forest of northeast Washington, the site of WD base operations during the Summer of 1993.

• counterculture norms have predominated in the past; • substance abuse; • victims of physical and/or sexual abuse; • a full range of learning disorders;

Wilderness Discovery consisted of a series of seven- and eight-day backpacking wilderness trips for Curlew Job Corps students. We emphasized a soft skills approach to individual and group processes, which focus on helping students expand insight, evaluation, and reflection about their patterns of behavior, values, beliefs, and motivations. This is in contrast to a hard skills approach, emphasizing competition, control, aggressiveness, vigorous exercise, and risk (real or perceived).

• highly impulsive; • poor personal hygiene; • history of failure in other programs; • currently on medication to control behavior/emotions; • poor social skills; • unrealistically low self-assessment of capabilities (always underestimated); and

Wilderness Discovery was guided by a steering committee, consisting of five Job Corps staffand led by Ivy Lanthier, Acting Director, Curlew Job Corps Center, and John Hendee, Dean, College of Forestry, Wildlife, and Range Sciences, University of Idaho. Randall Pitstick served as Field Director for WD, personally leading all six trips. A basic assumption of WD is that all Job Corps students are traditionally limited by a variety of social, cultural, and economic factors in their backgrounds, including dysfunctional families, low self-esteem, and repeated failures. During extensivepre-summerplanning sessions, the steering committee identified 15 characteristics com-

• students typically require a six-month adjustment period to the Job Corps program. SELECTING PARTICIPANTS Wilderness Discovery participants and alternates were selected by the steering committee and included students spanning the full range of Job Corps enrollees, including all vocational specialties and those on disciplinary restriction, as well as students in the alcohol and substance abuse 218


program, leadership development program, behavior management program, and others. Every Curlew Job Corps student was given an opportunity to participate in the program, except those with less than 45 days in Job Corps (the time required to complete orientation and pretesting) or those within 30 days of termination of Job Corps enrollment. Following a pre-trip meeting, selected participants were provided the opportunity to choose whether or not they wished to participate.

perpetuate current behavior, and prevent students from opening up to themselves and others with new insights. Thus, following the first trip, we were careful not to include bonded students. We shortened the trips from eight to seven days, primarily to accommodate logistics of equipment cleaning and drying and provide an additional pre-trip meeting with participants to further enhance their preparation. We tried all combinations of gender mixes and now favor equally balanced numbers of males and females or all male or all female trips. Gender imbalance on the trips triggered disruptive behavior by both males and females competing for favor, though disruptions were more frequent among males.

EVALUATION

A control group of students who didn't participate in WD was established by matching participants with control subjects having similar characteristics. Differences in subsequent achievement and performance between Curlew Job Corps student participants and the control group will be compared. Data to be compared will include educational attainment, test results, performance evaluations, length of stay in Job Corps, degree of adjustment, negative documentation, exit interviews, and subsequent life achievements (e.g., employment, family stability, education, delinquency, etc.).

Observed Effects

Achieving optimum stress from exertion is essential to smooth running and successful trips. Uphill hikes the first day were a good way to burn off frivolous energy and get everyone's attention. Easy first-day hikes left participants energetic and mischievous.

PRELIMINARY FINDINGS

The feasibility of operating a week-long wilderness program for Job Corps students has been demonstrated. We safely took 50 inexperienced Job Corps students on a series of six, week-long wilderness trips, despite the fact that this was the coldest, wettest summer on record in the Pacific Northwest. At the end of every trip, the steering committee met to discuss the performance of every participant on the trip and to evaluate and assess the trip process, logistics, and effects on participants and staff. Though we have not had sufficient time to analyze the data completely, the following evaluations reflect the consensus of the steering committee and our judgements. Program Adjustments

Students responding best were those within a reasonable range of normality, as defined by student behavior norms at the center. As a result of the combination of time alone and group processes, many students heard and considered diverse views and peer feedback on sensitive issues for the first time. This resulted in positive behavior changes, even for some students previously considered outside the norms. Increased self-esteem and self-confidence were apparent among almost all students. The process of reflection and developing a plan for the future led to students' increased personal expectations of themselves.

Based on staffobservations, the attitudes ofmany Relationships between students bonded to each other, as are boyfriends and girlfriends or sib-^students dramatically improved following parlings, seemed to interfere with the experience, ^ticipation in WD. 219


Effects of Wilderness Discovery Relating to the Job Corps Experience Wilderness Discovery facilitated existing Job Corps curricula such as social skills training and inter-group relations. Opportunities for cooperation and coordination were more prevalent on WD trips than most students had previously experienced in their lives. We introduced basic concepts in wilderness ethics (e.g., no-trace/minimum impact techniques) and environmental education, which both proved to be of great interest to most students. Trips were "substance clean," free of drugs, alcohol, and candy. Many students voluntarily quit smoking for the duration of the trip. Being "substance clean" was a recurrent topic in trip discussions and journals. We have gathered some excellent data from participant journals, post-trip interviews, and staff observations. Many students said WD was the most important experience of their lives; some reaffirmed their commitment to stay in Job Corps based on reflections made during the trip. One student wrote: In the end, we come to Job Corps to really learn about ourselves.... There are many discoveries to be made ... it is all really self-discovery. Staff members who participated on the trips were entirely positive and said that the level of dialogue achieved with students on the trips allowed them to better understand student behavior at the center. Positive changes in staff performance have also been observed. There has been a reduction in delinquent behavior and greater involvement in the center's formal and informal peer leadership program.

Curlew Conservation Corps Acting Director, Ivy Lanthier; several Curlew staff members; Dean of the College of Forestry, Wildlife, and Range Sciences, John Hendee; President of The WILD Foundation, Vance Martin; and doctoral student and WD Field Director Randall Pitstick) believe that the feasibility study for the WD program was a clear success. In addition, in the end-of-trip recorded interviews, student participants were unanimous in their affirmation that the WD program should be continued. We now know that a WD program for Job Corps students is feasible, given knowledgeable planning, logistics, student selection, staff training, and commitment. We know a lot about how to conduct such programs, what to avoid, and we have some initial information on costs, benefits, and effects. We recommend that a three-year pilot study be implemented to expand WD to a few selected Job Corps centers to gather additional information on costs, benefits, and feasibility of a large-scale program. We believe that WD is an outstanding opportunity to enhance Job Corps effectiveness by incorporating a carefully designed and implemented wilderness experience program at selected locations. A substantial and growing body of evidence documents the benefits of wilderness experience programs, especially to youth at risk. Job Corps students are at risk and in transition, attempting to overcome years of social, economic, physical, emotional, and psychological marginalization, as well as the consequences of poor choices. The WD program could be an effective adjunct to the Job Corps in its efforts to help youth in their struggles to emerge from poverty and neglected circumstances and become full participants in society. REFERENCES

SUMMARY Burton, L. 1981. A critical analysis and review of the research on Outward Bound and related programs. Ph.D. dissertation. New Brunswick: Rutgers University.

In summary, those of us directly involved in developing, testing, and evaluating WD this summer (Colville Forest Supervisor, Ed Schultz; 220


Gore; A. 1992. Earth in the balance: Ecology and the human spirit. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Kaplan, R., and S. Kaplan. 1989. The experience of nature: A psychological perspective. New York City: Cambridge University Press. R. Navarro and Associates. 1992. Analysis of costs invested in human capital in the Job Corps program by contractor. Report 12-92003-03-370. Office of Inspector General, U.S. Department of Labor. RELATED WORKS Austin, D. 1991. Therapeutic recreation: Processes and techniques. Champaign, Il.: Sagamore Publishing. Bridges, W. 1980. Transitions: Making sense of life's changes. Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley.

Hendee, J., and M. Brown. 1988. How wilderness experience programs work for personal growth, therapy, and education: An explanatory model. In: The highest use of wilderness: Using wilderness experience programs to develop human potential. International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation and Wilderness Research Center, University of Idaho. Hendee, J., and R. Pitstick. 1993. The use of wilderness for personal growth and inspiration. In: Proceedings of Symposium on International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research-5th World Wilderness Congress (Tromso, Norway). Mitten, D., and R. Dutton. 1993. Outdoor leadership considerations with women survivors of sexual abuse. Journal of Experiential Education 16(1):7-13. AUTHORS

Bunting, C. 1989. Experiences in the wilderness: Opportunities for Health. Trends 26(3):9-13.

Randall Pitstick Department of Resource Recreation and Tourism College of Forestry, Wildlife, and Range Sciences University of Idaho Moscow, ID 83843

Cockrell, D., ed. 1991. The wilderness educator: The Wilderness Education Association curriculum guide. Merrillville, Ind.: ICS Books. Cohen, M. 1990. Well mindâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;well Earth: A counseling/psychotherapy guide to naturesensitivity activities that catalyze personal growth. Eugene, Ore.: World Peace University Press.

John Hendee Dean, College of Forestry, Wildlife, and Range Sciences Director, Wilderness Research Center University of Idaho Moscow, ID 83843

Ewert, A. 1989. Outdoor adventure pursuits: Foundations, models, and theories. Scottsdale, Az.: Publishing Horizons.

Ivy Lanthier Curlew Job Corps Conservation Center Curlew, WA

Greenway, R. 1992. Mapping the wilderness experience: Ideas and questions gleaned from a 22-year study of a university wilderness program. In: Proceedings of Symposium on International Wilderness Allocation, Management, and Research-5th World Wilderness Congress (Tromso, Norway). 221


PERSPECTIVES ON WILDERNESS: A NEW TEST OF RESTORATIVE ENVIRONMENTS THEORY TERRY HARTIG GARY EVANS TOMMY GNARLING DEBORAH DAVIS prehend what one sees; that is, a tradeoff between interest and curiosity on one side and comprehension and security on the other. In the Kaplans' framework, the tension is between the factors of fascination, or effortless attention, and extent, or a sense of scale, perceptual order, and consistency with what one knows of the world. In Ulrich's framework, the tension is between factors such as complexity and deflected vistas, which draw visual exploration of scenes, structural properties, ground surface textures, depth, and so forth, which give order to what is being viewed.

This paper presents some details of the latest study in a research program concerned with restorative environments theory and personal benefits of nature experience. It starts from a discussion of some similarities and differences between the theoretical frameworks of central interest in the research. Some implications of this discussion for research design are then addressed. Next, elements of the research design and methods used in the present study are detailed. The paper closes with some general findings and conclusions.

SIMILARITIES AND DIFFERENCES BETWEEN AVAILABLE THEORIES

Yet, there is a basic difference between the frameworks in terms of operative constructs. Although both frameworks include constructs useful for explaining the experience of a given scene, the Kaplans' framework also includes conceptual tools needed for understanding the purposive activity of individuals moving within full-scale environments. Here, reference is made to the ideas about being away from demands on directed attention and about compatibility between environmental demands, personal inclinations, and environmental supports for intended activity. Because it looks at purposive individuals moving within environments, the Kaplans' framework is more encompassing than Ulrich's framework. However, as it is presently articulated, Kaplans' framework does not account for psychophysiological phenomena that have been identified and documented by Ulrich.

A central objective of restorative environments theory is to identify the factors working in personenvironment interactions to bring about recovery from some preceding deficit or threat to wellbeing. In the environment-behavior literature, the best known analyses dealing with restorative environments are those of Rachel and Stephen Kaplan (Kaplan and Kaplan, 1989; and Kaplan and Talbot, 1983) and Roger Ulrich (1983). Both frameworks build on assumptions about the evolutionary adaptiveness of an ability to rapidly make preference judgments about the environment. Both frameworks then extend ideas about environmental preferences to restorative experience. Given human evolution in natural settings, both frameworks hypothesize that natural environments will in general be preferred over and have higher restorative value than typical built environments.

There are other basic differences between the frameworks. They look at different antecedent conditions from which people are to be restored. They see different processes leading to restoration. They indicate different time requirements for the outcomes of central interest.

The two frameworks postulate some similar factors working in restoration. In each, there is a trade-off between a desire to gain new information about the environment and a desire to com222


require the demonstration of two forms of dependence, one between attentional fatigue and stress as antecedent conditions, and the other between change in directed attention capacity and change in sympathetic arousal as restoration outcomes.

The Kaplans are interested in recovery from directed attention fatigue. They assume that people have a limited capacity to inhibit distractions and direct attention. This capacity can be depleted, if functioning requires a heavy reliance on directed attention over time. Directed attention fatigue has various consequences, such as negative emotion and increased error in performance. Restoration becomes possible when one can function over time relying on an effortless form of attention they call fascination. The recovery period can extend into days and weeks (Kaplan and Kaplan, 1989).

In designing the present study, the intention was not to mount a critical test between the frameworks. Although it is possible to describe situations in which both the above dependencies exist, it is easier to think of situations in which one or both forms of dependence do not hold. For example, a stressful situation need not be attentionally fatiguing. So, instead of thinking in terms of a critical test, the focus in the present study is on the potential complementarity of the frameworks. This means greater concern for documenting the potential coincidence of attentional and psychophysiological restoration, and also for an experimental design and procedure that would represent the different antecedent conditions, outcome dimensions, and temporal parameters indicated by the two frameworks. Not incidentally, such a focus on the complementarity potential of the frameworks is also encouraged by an appreciation of the similarities between the two frameworks in terms of constructs and operations. Additional discussion of this and related issues can be found in Hartig (1993; and Hartig and Evans, 1993).

Ulrich is interested in recovery from psychophysiological stress, which he takes to be a process of responding to a situation that threatens or challenges well-being. He is interested mainly in negative emotions and heightened sympathetic arousal that go with stress. In his framework, recovery from stress is helped when a person views an aesthetically pleasing scene. While viewing, positive feelings replace negative feelings, negative thoughts are blocked, and arousal decreases. This arousal decline is thought to begin almost immediately upon viewing a suitable scene, with a return to pre-stressor levels shown to occur in a matter of minutes under laboratory conditions (Ulrich eta!., 1991).

RESEARCH DESIGN IMPLICATIONS

STUDY DESIGN AND METHODS

Three points from the preceding discussion warrant emphasis here. First, the Kaplan and Ulrich frameworks refer to different antecedent conditions. Second, they refer to different outcome dimensions and indicate that different amounts of time are required for restoration along those dimensions. Third, there are significant similarities between the frameworks in terms of constructs and operations.

Some basic hypotheses reflect our interest in the potential complementarity of the Kaplan and Ulrich frameworks. Stated in general terms, they are as follows: 1. Given an antecedent condition in which stress and attentional fatigue are combined, restoration will be seen on attentional, emotional, and physiological dimensions.

These points bear on the issue of whether it is possible to design a critical test that can establish one of the frameworks as the superior explanation of restoration. With the given frameworks, a critical test would require that one show that attentional restoration from directed attention fatigue and psychophysiological restoration from stress are necessarily related. More specifically, establishing a unitary restoration phenomenon that one framework could account for would

2. Attentional, emotional, and physiological outcomes will appear at different times during treatment and will persist to varying degrees. 3. A natural environment will contribute to greater restoration than an urban environment. 223


These hypotheses were tested in a true experiment conducted in field settings. Twenty eight student subjects were randomly assigned to each of four groups. Two of the groups went to a natural area, and two groups went to an urban setting. In each environment condition, subjects in one of the groups performed a task for 60 minutes before their walk, and subjects in the other did not. The task was designed to be both stressful and attentionally fatiguing. Withholding the task from some subjects made it possible to look at restoration in people with varying degrees of stress/attentional fatigue. This added inferential power to a design that in other respects was similar to the design used in the study reported at the 4th World Wilderness Congress. (See Hartig eta!., 1991.) Subjects in the present study were run individually by a same-sex researcher. They started the procedure at the University of California, Irvine, campus, where they provided background information and initial measures of emotional states, attentional performance, systolic and diastolic blood pressure, and heart rate. The blood pressure and heart rate measures were obtained simultaneously with a state-of-the-art ambulatory blood pressure monitoring device that recorded values at 10-minute intervals throughout the experiment. After pretesting, subjects drove alone to an assigned field following a set route for which directions were provided. The routes to the sites were matched in terms of distance, driving time, and the number of potential stops for lights and signs. The natural site was a National Audubon Society sanctuary in a secluded canyon at the border of the Cleveland National Forest in the foothills of the Santa Ana Mountains. At this site, the field lab had views out onto trees and vegetated hillsides. The urban site was an area around the U.C.I. Medical Center complex in Orange, California. At this site, the field lab was a windowless classroom. After arrival, subjects provided information on their drive and then either performed the stress/ attentional fatigue task or went out on a walk after

a brief period of sitting in the field lab. Those subjects who performed the task also sat in the lab for a brief period after they had completed the task. This period in the lab was the initial 10 minutes of the environmental treatment and constituted an attempt to replicate the findings of Ulrich and others (1991) under non-simulated conditions. An extra blood pressure and heart rate reading was taken four minutes into the period so that changes could be monitored more closely during the initial part of the treatment. After leaving the lab, subjects were led along a pre-established route through the given setting. The routes were approximately equal in length and followed paved or dirt roads on fairly level terrain. Researchers maintained a slow pace during the walk and kept conversation to a minimum. After 20 minutes of walking, measures of overall happiness and attentional performance were obtained, in conjunction with regularly programmed blood pressure and heart rate readings. Samples of saliva were obtained in conjunction with most of the blood pressure and heart rate readings taken during the treatment period so that change in cortisol levels could be assessed; however, these samples have not yet been processed. Finally, on arrival back at the field lab, the subjects provided post-test measures of emotional states, attentional performance, blood pressure, and heart rate readings.

FINDINGS AND CONCLUSIONS Given space limitations, only some key outcomes that bear on the complementarity of the frameworks and the effects of the different environments can be described here. These findings are based on preliminary analyses and should be considered tentative; however, most fit within a consistent pattern, and the results of the statistical tests are in most cases highly reliable. As hypothesized, the experimental manipulations had effects that were manifest on the outcome dimensions specified by the two frameworks. Effects due to the environment and task conditions could be seen in the self-reports of emotion, 224


in the measures ofperformance on tasks requiring concentration, and in systolic blood pressure values. Also as predicted, the different outcomes emerged at different times. Effects of the manipulations on systolic blood pressure were discernible in the initial minutes of the treatment period, while the subjects were sitting in the field lab looking out the windows at trees or staring at blank walls. Systolic blood pressure effects also were seen in data obtained on the walk. Differential emotional effects were evident midway through the treatment period, as shown with the measure of overall happiness administered on the walk. Yet, an attentional performance measure that was administered with the overall happiness measure while on the walk did not show reliable change from the pretest values. However, when pretest-post-test change scores for this measure were analyzed, effects of the manipulations were found to be statistically reliable. Pretest-posttest changes in positive and negative emotional states were also reliable. These results indicate that attentional and psychophysiological processes can work simultaneously in a restorative experience, and that the different processes lead to measurable outcomes in differing amounts of time, with physiology and emotion changing fairly quickly and attentional capacity renewal requiring more time. The effects of the natural environment relative to the urban environment were not always straightforward, because in several instances the environment effects were bound up with effects of the given task condition. In some instances, the interaction outcome was clearly indicative of greater restorative effects in the natural environment. For example, the natural environment subjects who had completed the task showed a pretest-post-test increase in self-reported positive emotion that was not as large as the increase shown by the natural environment no-task subjects, but which nonetheless contrasted with the decrease in positive emotion shown by the urban task subjects. Similarly, natural environment task subjects showed a greater pretest-post-test decline in their ability to perform an attentional task (e.g., inhibition of pattern reversals when viewing a three-dimensional line drawing of a

cube) than did the natural environment no-task subjects, but their performance decrement was smaller than that of the urban task subjects. (Note that the performance decline seen in all groups from pretest to post-test is understandable, given that the experimental procedure was several hours in length.) However, in other instances, the interactions were harder to interpret. For example, overall happiness measured on the walk was highest in the natural environment no-task subjects, but was lowest in the natural environment task subjects. One can speculate that this owes to the persistence of a negative reaction to doing the task in an incongruent setting. Beyond the interactive effects of environment and task conditions, independent effects of the environments were seen in emotional and physiological outcomes. For example, the natural environment subjects on the average showed a decline in self-reported anger from pretest to post-test, whereas it increased in the urban subjects. In terms of physiology measured between four and 10 minutes into the treatment period, while the subjects sat in the field lab, those with the views onto trees showed declines in systolic blood pressure, while those in the windowless room at the urban site showed slight increases. Furthermore, these trends towards lower systolic blood pressure values in natural environment subjects and towards higher values in urban environment subjects persisted through the first 20 minutes of the walk. Overall, looking at the interaction of the environments and task manipulations, and at the independent effects of the environments, the patterns of group differences indicate that the natural environment brought about the more positive changes. In conclusion, restoration is a basic and frequently noted form of personal benefit that people draw from experiences in natural environments, wilderness, and otherwise. The present study demonstrated that restoration outcomes can emerge in a particular order on the dimensions specified in the theoretical frameworks of the Kaplans and Ulrich. The results suggest that a synthesis of those frameworks will offer an incre-

225


ment of explanatory power not afforded by either framework in isolation. Finally, the study adds to the body of evidence that natural environments offer greater restorative potential than commonplace urban settings.

Kaplan, S., and J. Talbot. 1983. Psychological benefits of a wilderness experience. In: I. Altman and J. Wohlwill, eds, Behavior and the natural environment. New York City: Plenum.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Ulrich, R. 1983. Aesthetic and affective response to natural environment. In: I. Altman and J. Wohlwill, eds, Behavior and the natural environment. New York City: Plenum.

The study reported here was supported by Cooperative Agreement #28-C8-469 from the USDI Forest Service Rocky Mountain Forest and Range Experiment Station, by a Dissertation Research Award from the American Psychological Association, and by a Dissertation Fellowship from the School of Social Ecology at the University of California, Irvine, each to the first author. The authors are grateful to Susan Berg, Joanne Berry, Christine Drass, Christine Fong, Anjolette Fruchan, Marcos Martinez, Dan Mathiesen, Michael Richmai, Glen Segrue, Rashida Tinkshell, Maegan Winning, and Adrian Wolf for assistance with data collection and entry; to Pete DeSimone and the National Audubon Society for the use of facilities at the Starr Ranch sanctuary; and to Edwin Krumpe for reading the presentation version of this paper at the 5th World Wilderness Congress.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;., R. Simons, B. Losito, E. Fiorito, M. Miles, and M. Zelson. 1991. Stress recovery during exposure to natural and urban environments. Journal of Environmental Psychology 11:201-30.

AUTHORS Terry Hartig School of Public Health University of California Berkeley, CA 94720 Gary Evans Design and Environmental Analysis Cornell University Ithaca, NY

REFERENCES Tommy Garling Department of Psychology Hartig, T. 1993. Nature experience in d University of Gothenburg transactional perspective. Landscape and Gothenburg, Sweden Planning 25:17-36. --., and G. Evans. 1993. Psychological foundations of nature experience. In: T. Garling and R. Golledge, eds, Behavior and environment: Psychological and geographical approaches. New York City: Elsevier.

Deborah Davis School of Social Ecology University of California Irvine, CA

Hartig, T., M. Mang, and G. Evans. 1991. Restorative effects of natural environment experiences. Environment and Behavior 23:3-26. Kaplan, R., and S. Kaplan. 1989. The experience of nature: A psychological perspective. New York City: Cambridge University Press.

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THE PSYCHOLOGY AND FUNCTIONS OF WILDERNESS SOLITUDE WILLIAM HAMMITT

Although the Wilderness Act of 1964 specifically specifics "opportunities for solitude," it is generally recognized that wilderness solitude includes realms of privacy other than being alone. Our research into the broader psychological meanings and functions of wilderness solitudelprivacy have been guided by the philosophical writings on privacy by Westin (1967). Westin defines privacy as "the claim of individuals, groups, or institutions to determine for themselves when, how, and to what extent information about them is communicated to others." Privacy is not a permanent state of being, but a voluntary and temporary withdrawal of a person from the general society through physical and psychological means, either in a state of solitude or small-group intimacy or, when among larger groups, in a condition of anonymity or reserve (Westin, 1967).

The purpose of this paper is to present two psychological measurement scales that were developed and field tested for the purposes of 1) identifying and understanding the cognitive dimensions of wilderness solitude/privacy and 2) exploring the functions that solitude/privacy serve in wilderness environments. Both the scale items and field test results will be summarized and interpreted in hope that other wilderness researchers around the world might make future use of the scales. The Wilderness Act of 1964 (P.L. 88-577) specifically requires that congressionally designated wilderness "provide outstanding opportunities for solitude or a primitive and unconfined type of recreation." Although the Wilderness Act clearly specifics the concept of solitude, it does little towards providing a psychological understanding of the concept or the many psychological functions wilderness solitude may offer.

Westin states that there are four basic dimensions of privacy:

1. Solitude - Complete isolation; the individual is separated from the group and freed from the observation of others.

CONCEPTUAL BACKGROUND Solitude is commonly defined as the "escape or

complete isolation from all other people." Yet, observations and studies of wilderness users in the United States indicate that they mean something different than complete isolation when they refer to wilderness solitude. Many users seek solitude and privacy in the wilderness experience, but research indicates that most (97 to 98 percent) users go with others when visiting wilderness areas. It is being alone together with members of one's group that is important in wilderness experiences (Lee, 1967; and Stankey 1989). Solitude/ privacy in the context of wilderness seems to be more an issue of being away or temporary isolation from certain social structures and environments than isolation from individual people.

2. Intimacy - The individual is acting as part of a small unit, seeking to achieve a close, personal relationship between two or more select members. 3. Anonymity - The individual is in a public setting, but still seeks and achieves freedom from identification, surveillance, and social roles. 4. Reserve - The individual keeps a mental distance, creates a psychological barrier against unwanted intrusion, and reserves the right not to reveal certain aspects about oneself. 227


According to Westin, the four dimensions of privacy perform four functions, although they constantly flow into one another. These four functions are: 1. Personal Autonomy - The need to avoid being manipulated or dominated wholly by others; to safeguard one's sacred individuality. 2. Emotion Release - Provides for respite from the psychological tensions and stresses of social roles in everyday society. 3. Self-Evaluation - The need to integrate one's experiences into a meaningful pattern and exert individuality on events. Limited and Protected Communication - Westin states two aspects: 1) It provides opportunities needed for sharing confidence and intimacies with those trusted; and 2) it serves to set necessary boundaries of mental distance in interpersonal situations. METHODS Developmental Studies In 1981 and 1982, Hammitt (1982) and Hammitt and Brown (1984) used Westin's theoretical model of privacy to develop a Dimensions of Privacy Scale and a Functions of Privacy Scale. The scales were developed and tested with students at various universities who were enrolled in outdoor recreation classes and who had previous backcountry or wilderness experience. The purpose of the two laboratory studies was to develop an instrument and scale items for identifying and measuring various psychological dimensions and functions of privacy operating among wilderness users. The Dimensions of Privacy Scale consisted of 20 items that respondents rated on a seven-point Likert format of importance. The Functions of

Privacy Scale consisted of 24 items, again rated on a seven-point importance scale. The items of both scales were analyzed according to mean importance, and measures of variation were factor analyzed for underlying psychological dimensions and functions of wilderness solitude/privacy. (Please see the cited references for detailed methods.) Field Studies In 1987 and 1992, the two scales were field tested among on-site users of two wilderness areas. The Dimensions of Privacy Scale (after minor revisions were made on it based on analysis of the developmental study data) was administered to overnight backpackers along the Appalachian Trail in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The park is part of the U.S. National Park System. An on-site intercept interview and a mailback questionnaire was used to measure respondents' importance for the 20-item wilderness privacy scale (N = 184). A 75 percent usable response rate was obtained for data analysis (Hammitt and Madden, 1989). Again, dataanalysis procedures were similar to those used in the developmental studies. The Functions of Privacy Scale was field tested in Ellicott Rock Wilderness, located primarily in South Carolina. The wilderness is part of the U.S. National Forest and National Wilderness Preservation Systems. Survey procedures were the same as for the Great Smoky Mountains study. However, both day and overnight users of Ellicott Rock Wilderness were surveyed. Data was analyzed through descriptive and factor analysis procedures based on a 72 percent questionnaire return rate (Rutlin and Hammitt, 1993). The Functions of Privacy Scale has also been field tested in Australia by Priest and Bugg (1991). RESULTS Dimensions of Privacy Scale The most important aspect of privacy to wilderness users dealt with the tranquility and peacefulness of the remote environment ( x = 1.45). (See 228


Table 1. Mean importance and factor analysis values for the dimensions of wilderness privacy scale for field respondents, 1987.

Dimensions and Factored Items Natural Environment The tranquility and peacefulness of the remote environment An environment free of human-made noises Being in a completely natural environment An environment free of human-made intrusions

Factor Loadings

0.6269 0.6556 0.4842

1.45 1.47 1.84

0.6442

1.86

Individual Cognitive Freedom Freedom of choice as to actions 0.7055 and use of time^ Freedom to limit your attention to whatever you choose^0.7669 Social Cognitive Freedom Being yourself, free from the 0.7514 expectations of others Freedom to control your thoughts, regardless of being with a small group or by yourself 0.5090 Freedom to choose when and to what extent you have to speak and interact with others 0.6665 Intimacy Privacy from most people, yet a personal relationship with friends or family A small, intimate group experience, isolated from all other groups Being able to limit your attention to only a few chosen people An opportunity to socialize with friends or family without being interrupted by others Individualism Being relieved from rules and constraints of society Free from observation by all other people Free from daily body maintenance, if one wishes

Item Means*

Factor Mean

Factor a. Value **

1.66a***

0.76

2.05b

0.87

2.48c

0.79

2.88d

0.79

3.59e

0.71

2.00 2.11

2.34 2.34 2.75

0.7519

2.61

0.5594

2.86

0.6923

3.01

0.6550

3.03

0.7906 0.4522

3.23 3.34

0.5091

4.18

* Mean values based on a seven-point scale: 1 = extremely important to 7 = not at all important. ** Cronbach'sd ***Mean separation within column by t test, p 6 0.05; means with the same letter are not statistically different.


Table 1.) Analysis of the other four to five most

important privacy items can be summarized as follows: Wilderness solitude/privacy involves a natural, remote environment that is free of human-generated noises and intrusions and that offers freedom of choice in terms of one's actions and use of time, control over everyday pressures, or tensions and attention load ... At the other end of the spectrum, the least important aspects of privacy concerned solitary, isolated experiences and anonymity.

Results ofthe factor analysis to determine underlying psychological dimensions of wilderness privacy resulted in five dimensions, instead ofthe four suggested by Westin. (See Table 1.) Dimensions labelled natural environment and cognitive freedom were most important, while the dimension individualism was least important. The factor analysis produced two dimensions of cognitive freedom and scale items concerning isolation did not factor as a coherent dimension. Interpretation of the meaning and implications of the five dimensions will follow in the discussion portion of this paper. Functions of Privacy Scale

Function items found most important were those dealing with recovery from anxiety and mental fatigue (x = 1.49) through emotional release from everyday societal roles. (See Table 2.) Least important were the privacy functions of evaluating and planning personal matters or coming events and limiting communication to strangers. Factor analysis produced five privacy functions (ranked on importance): 1) emotional release, 2) personal autonomy, 3) reflective thought/selfevaluation, 4) limited communicationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;intimacies, and 5) limited communication--personal distance. Comparison with the four functions stated by Westin reveals two minor differences: 1) A related functional domain that emphasizes the reflective thought/self-evaluation elements of privacy emerges, and 2) the limited and protected

communication function factored as two separate factors, according to the two attributes discussed by Westin. DISCUSSION AND IMPLICATIONS Interpretations of the Five Psychological Dimensions of Privacy Natural Environment - Being in a remote, natural

environment that is removed from human-generated noises and intrusions, thereby offering a sense of tranquility and peacefulness, was the most important dimension of privacy to wilderness users. It is relevant that the tranquility and peacefulness item, which received the highest single item mean, factored with the natural environment and lack of intrusion items. (See Table 1.) It appears that natural environments, of which wilderness areas are the ultimate example, by definition lack human-made intrusions and noises that inhibit individual freedom of choice, tranquility, and peace of mind. Individual Cognitive Freedom and Social Cognitive Freedom - Cognitive freedom ranked second

only to the natural environment as a most important dimension of wilderness privacy. Freedom of choice concerning the information that wilderness users must process and the behavior demanded ofthem is an important cognitive issue in wilderness. The freedom to direct one's thoughts, attention, and use of time to what is fascinating is something that a natural environment free of intrusions should foster. It is proposed that the natural, remote environment promotes the freedom and cognitive control to concentrate on what humans find inherently fascinating, which results in a state oftranquility and peace ofmind (Kaplan, 1977; 1978). However, two dimensions of cognitive freedom seem to be at play in wilderness. One involves cognitive freedom at an individual level, and the other involves cognitive freedom at a social level. The Social Cognitive Freedom factor in Table 1. differs from the Individual Cognitive Freedom factor, also in Table 1., in that the former contains items that all relate specifically to others or 230


Table 2. Mean importance and factor analysis values for the functions of wilderness privacy scale for field respondents, 1992. Functions and Factored Items Emotional Release Resting the mind from anxiety and mental fatigue Emotional release from everyday society Disengaging from everyday social roles Releasing psychological stress Releasing physical tension Personal Autonomy Developing a sense of independence Maintaining one's sense of individuality Experiencing a period of personal autonomy Development of individuality in personal and spiritual concerns Reflective Thought/Self-Evaluation Being alone with one's thoughts and feelings Regrouping one's thoughts Exploring and thinking through personal matters and concerns Recovering from troubled or depressing moments in one's life Reflecting upon past experiences Identifying one's inner self Self-evaluation and redirecting one's life-time goals Evaluating and planning coming events Limited Communication: Intimacies Private setting for communicating with a few friends Sharing confidences and intimacies with those one trusts Evaluating personal matters with intimate friends

Factor Loadings

Item Means*

0.5727

1.49

0.8870

1.78

0.6855 0.7590 0.6986

1.78 2.23 2.31

0.7409 0.5682

2.39 2.48

0.6220

2.68

0.6667

2.72

0.5050 0.5163

2.29 2.35

0.7242

2.43

0.5577 0.6118 0.5541

2.62 2.77 2.84

0.7038 0.7855

2.96 3.67

0.8456

2.41

0.6928

2.93

0.7144

3.06

Limited Communication: Personal Distance Maintaining a desired mental distance from other individuals^0.7910 Limiting visual and verbal interaction with strangers^ 0.7950 Control information that must be processed^ 0.6686 Limit communication to individuals who are not close friends^0.6456

Factor Mean

Factor Q. Value**

1.92

0.87

2.58

0.83

2.75

0.91

2.80

0.81

3.05

0.81

2.91 2.94 2.99 3.41

*^Mean values based on a seven-point scale: 1 = extremely important to 7 = not at all important.

**^Cronbach's Oc.

231


small groups. Items in the Individual Cognitive Freedom factor are individualistic, and there is some indication that they are related to the freedom of choice usually exercised at an individual's discretion. One can be in the presence of selected others and still operate in a cognitive sense at two levels, one at the individual level and the other at a controlled interactive level free from the expectations and thought processes required in everyday society.

Intimacy - Factoring in this dimension were items dealing with privacy from most people and the opportunity to limit one's attention to only a few chosen people. The opportunity for controlled and personal socialization with a small group of chosen friends, in which attention can be limited and focused, allows for the cohesiveness of intimate relationships. When interpreting the intimacy dimension of wilderness privacy, it is important to realize that the social context of this dimension is not in conflict with the freedom of choice and cognitive freedom that individuals desire. The privacy that wilderness users seek seems to be the withdrawal from complex social environments in which they sense little control over with whom and the extent to which they must interact and communicate, rather than complete withdrawal from all people (i.e., isolation). Users desire an element of social interaction in their intimate groups, yet a degree of privacy from outside groups.

Individualism - Rated only somewhat important was the dimension with items concerning privacy from the observations and obligations of society. Role identity seemed to be involved here because individuals must be free from the rules, constraints, and observations of society to determine their actions and behavior and to experience tranquility. It is essential, however, not to confuse individualism with isolation of the individual. Items involved with isolation tended to be rated lowest in importance and failed to factor as a coherent dimension. Thus, among the surveyed wilderness users, there is little support for solitude/privacy as complete isolation of the individual.

Interpretations of the Five Functions of Wilderness Privacy

Emotional Release - This function of wilderness privacy was ranked the most important by field respondents (z =1.92), with the item "resting the mind from anxiety and mental fatigue" being rated highest. Disengaging from the social roles, tensions, and stresses of everyday life during privacy allows for mental freedom and the resting of the mind (Kaplan, 1977). It would also seem linked to the promoting of a sense of tranquility and peace of mind. Privacy in wilderness environments allows for experiencing desired social roles and informational demands to create a cognitive state that is conducive to emotional release and the fostering of reflective thought, contemplation, and a sense of tranquility (Kaplan and Talbot, 1983). Personal Autonomy - Wilderness users found the development of independence, individuality, and periods of personal autonomy to be important functional attributes of wilderness privacy. As pointed out by Westin, all humans need environmental situations and periods of time where they can avoid being manipulated or dominated entirely by others. Who can develop a sense of individuality, to evaluate oneself, if a person never has the opportunity to be alone with their thoughts and feelings? The independence and individuality referred to here is associated with having things under control rather than individual distinctiveness. Reflective Thought/Self-Evaluation - The human-need to regroup, recover, evaluate, and reflect upon past thoughts, experiences, and events dominated the third functional domain. Privacy allows for periods to evaluate and integrate experiences into directed and meaningful patterns, which is difficult when people are always on the go. As pointed out by Midgley (1978), periods of "integration" are essential so that human behavior does not become diffused, disorganized, and counter-productive. Limited Communication--Intimacies - Individuals have needs for companionship and sharing of intimate concerns, yet most people are reluctant 232


to go public with personal concerns or with items that are not well thought out. A friend and a private wilderness setting, which fosters cognitive freedom and thought processes, and at the same time allows for the sharing of these ideas with selected individuals, are valuable assets. Limited Communication--Personal Distance Items in this function relate to interpersonal and environmental situations where a desired degree of psychological and mental distance can be maintained. Wilderness is often thought of in the context of geographical distance--a remote environment--but equally important are the social and mental distances of wilderness environments. Many normative behaviors displayed in wilderness environments are oriented towards the setting of interpersonal boundaries that guarantee limited communication (Hendee eta!., 1977; and Hammitt and Patterson, 1991). REFERENCES Hammitt, W. 1982. Cognitive dimensions of wilderness solitude. Environment and Behavior 14:478-93. —., and G. Brown, Jr. 1984. Functions of privacy in wilderness environments. Leisure Sciences 6:151-66. Hammitt, W., and M. Madden. 1989. Cognitive dimensions of wilderness privacy: A field test and further explanation. Leisure Sciences 11:293-301. Hammitt, W., and M. Patterson. 1991. Coping behavior to avoid visitor encounters: Its relationship to wilderness policy.J. of Leisure Research 23:225-37. Hendee, J., R. Clark, and T. Daily. 1977. Fishing and other recreation behavior at highmountain lakes in Washington State. USFS Research Note PNW -304.

—. 1978. Attention and fascination: The search for cognitive clarity. In: S. Kaplan and R. Kaplan, eds, Humanscape: Environments for People. Belmont, Calif.: Duxburg. —., and J. Talbot. 1983. Psychological benefits of a wilderness experience. In: I. Altman and J. Wohlwill, eds, Behavior and the natural environment. New York City: Plenum. Lee, R. 1977. Alone with others: The paradox of privacy in the wilderness. Leisure Sciences 1:3-19. Midgley, M. 1978. Beast and the men: The roots of human nature. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press. Priest, S., and R. Bugg. 1991. Functions of privacy in Australian wilderness environments. Leisure Sciences 13:247-55. Rutlin, W., and W. Hammitt. 1992. Functions of privacy in the Ellicott Rock Wilderness. In: Proceedings of the Southwestern Recreation Research Conference (Helen, Georgia). In press. Stankey, G. 1989. Solitude for the multitudes: Managing recreational use in the wilderness. In: I. Altman and E. Zube, eds, Public places and spaces. New York City: Plenum. Westin, A. 1967. Privacy and freedom. New York City: Athenaeum. AUTHOR William Hammitt Department of Parks, Recreation, and Tourism Management College of Forest and Recreation Resources Clemson University Clemson, SC 29634-1005

Kaplan, S. 1977. Tranquility and challenge in the natural environment. USFS General Technical Report NE -30. 233


THE CAPACITY TO BE ALONE: WILDERNESS SOLITUDE AND GROWTH OF THE SELF STEVE HOLLENHORST ERNEST FRANK, III ALAN WATSON

ABSTRACT Wilderness is often justified by the exceptional opportunity it provides modern humans to experience solitude. Solitude is generally defined in the philosophical literature as the capacity to cope positively with time spent alone. While loneliness is one of the most powerful of human fears, optimal experience occurs when a person is able to control attention and find personal reward when alone, in the absence of external goals, stimulation, and feedback. To be alone but not lonely; to view isolation as an opportunity for personal growth and development, is the mark of self-realization and self-discovery. In this paper, we explore, through literature review and survey research, the meaning and structure of solitude as a benefit of the wilderness experience. The findings suggest the capacity to realize positive benefit from wilderness solitude is hierarchical in structure; from physical renewal at the lower end to self-discovery and selfrealization at the highest levels. This capacity for personal growth appears to be positively related to wilderness involvement and commitment. A weak or nonexistent relationship existed between the level of wilderness solitude benefit achieved and the physical/social characteristics of the setting. Paradoxically, although wilderness solitude was positively perceived and highly valued, people rarely go alone into wilderness. While a partial explanation can be found in concern for personal safety, evidence also suggests fear of loneliness, along with the overwhelming importance placed on developing intimate relationships at the expense of the need to be alone. Management implications will also be discussed.

sage of the Wilderness Act of 1964. The Act provided a definition that in part declared wilderness to have "... outstanding opportunities for solitude ..." Suddenly, the question, "what is solitude and how can it be measured" became a valid question of scientific pursuit and a vital question for managers who were charged with implementing the language of the Act. As investigators began consideration of solitude, it became apparent the concept was plastic and multifaceted at best. Definitional ambiguity and conceptual confusion still cloud the waters of solitude investigation nearly 30 years later. Because philosophical abstractions based on belief so prominently influence research process and direction, it is profitable in the present context to consider the relevance of wilderness solitude within the dominant world view. In North America, several presuppositions comprise the dominant worldview, including a belief in limitless resources, the necessity ofcontinuous growth, and faith in the problem-solving abilities of science and technology (Albrecht et al., 1982). This worldview has directed the focus of human attention away from the natural environment to the social environment. Viewing life from this frame of reference, the ego has been progressively detached from its ecological mooring. Today, much of our self-identity is provided in how we piece together other people's definitions of who we are. Interpersonal relationships are idealized as the touchstone of health and happiness (Story, 1992). The individual is considered well adjusted relative to society, not necessarily to life itself. This has produced not only an interdependent culture but al4o a co-dependent one with an attendant fear of aloneness.

INTRODUCTION The concept of solitude was raised to the level of public policy in the United States with the pas-

We challenge the adequacy of the dominant worldview to accurately envisage the significance of solitude in general, and wilderness soli234


efforts of Howard Zahniser and others who could not envision a wilderness vitiated by a lack of opportunity for solitude. Additionally, solitude is recognized, along with naturalness, to be the criterion that distinguishes wilderness from other lands and is, therefore, a principle criterion to guide the management of wilderness (Hendee, 1992).

tude in particular, to the healthy development of the individual as an end in itself. This idea was first argued by Albert Storr (1992) in his book, Solitude: A Return to the Self. Much of the previous exploration of solitude has been with reference to others in some fashion. Research on solitude has focused on themes as diverse as territoriality, personal space, crowding, secrecy, intimacy, privacy invasion and regulation, selfdisclosure, and structure of the built environment, all of which answer to the belief that the functional locus of consequence in solitude is in its impact on, or relevance to, a community of others. We feel that solitude has been marginalized within this frame of reference and an adequate understanding of its contribution to the realization and enrichment of the self has therefore not been obtained.

While the importance of solitude is accepted by many, systematic explorations of the concept have generally diverged along several lines. The definitional ambiguity and vagueness of the concept in living language is reflected in scientific theories of social behavior. The problem may well be illustrated by considering privacy, a concept often confused with solitude in the literature and far more extensively researched. In his excellent synopses of the literature on privacy, Margulis (1977) moves through the concept of privacy as reflected in its common usage, lexical, empirical (behavioral and social), and legal applications and thence offers a distilled definition of its shared-core elements. He identifies privacy as representing in whole or part the "control of transactions between person(s) and other(s), the ultimate aim of which is to enhance autonomy and/or to minimi ze vulnerability." This definition identifies the determinant of causality for privacy essentially to be the control of others to an end for self. This is the question viewed from the presuppositional purchase of the dominant worldview. Inthe concept of solitude, we suggest the primary determinant of causality essentially to reside in the control of self.

Enough research exists to convince us that the primary unit of consideration when investigating solitude is the individual proper. The capacity to be alone has long been recognized as a critical component of childhood development. Solitude in the adult facilitates self-discovery, self-realization, and awareness of one's deepest needs, feelings, and impulses (Storr, 1992). Additionally, it compensates for the inadequacies of interpersonal relationships in the search for happiness. In an era where the mass mind-set so obtrusively succeeds to dominate the psychology and spirit of the individual, we feel a reconsideration of the importance of solitude in the wilderness setting is warranted. The therapeutic and restorative potential of such experiences may extend across several individual levels. We believe the potential benefits of the wilderness solitude experience facilitate a host of possible outcomes, including creativity and expression, awareness and selfactualization, processing bereavement and mourning, escape and retreat, and meditation and prayer. Many in the past have attributed singular benefit to the experience of solitude. Poets and politicians alike appreciate the contribution solitude makes to the overall human well-being. In the realm of public policy, solitude became a legislated descriptor of wilderness in the 1964 Wilderness Act. This was largely the result of the

This control is exercised under the condition of aloneness, in our specific context, aloneness in the wilderness environment. Aloneness is, therefore, a necessary but not sufficient condition of solitude. The true determinant of solitude is seen as the intrapersonal capacity to utilize time alone for self-discovery, self-realization, meaning, wholeness, and heightened awareness of one's deepest needs, feelings, and impulses. We suggest that the opposite of solitude is not crowding, as suggested by previous work. The opposite of solitude rather is loneliness , an incapacity or failure to utilize time alone for personal enhancement. Hence our definition of solitude involves a state of mind as well as a state of being or place. 235


OBJECTIVES OF THE STUDY

METHODS

The purpose ofthis article is to operationalize and test this hypothesis on a sample of visitors to several wilderness areas in the United States. Towards this end, several objectives were developed, namely:

Involved in this study were five national forest wilderness areas of the eastern United States. For this pilot analysis, the majority of respondents were summer visitors to the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area of West Virginia. A 13-page survey instrument was constructed. The major components of this instrument included:

• to explore visitor perceptions of, and attitudes towards, solitude;

A section designed to obtain respondent's perception of, and attitudes to wards, solitude. To this end, a semantic differential was developed, employing both Osgood's and our own hypothesized dimensions.

• to offer an operational definition of solitude; • to develop procedures for measuring solitude outcomes of a single wilderness experience;

• A section designedtomeasure achieved solitude by reference to the benefits that solitude facilitates. This consisted of both a summated index and a cumulative scale.

• to identify those factors influencing the amount or level of solitude obtained;and

A section designed to identify factors influencing solitude, including encounter and crowding measures, field conditions, and respondent characteristics.

• to serve as a preliminary analysis of data being collected for a major study.

Table 1. Results of factor analysis on semantic di fferential items.

Factor

^Variables^

Variance x 100

^ Positive^ Good (vs Bad) ^81 Important (vs Unimportant) ^ 79 46 Opportunity (vs Loneliness) ^ 70 Wholeness^Complete (vs Incomplete) ^ 62 Full (vs Empty) ^ Strong (vs Weak) ^60 50 Attractive (vs Repulsive) ^ 69 Somberness^Hard (vs Soft) ^ Heavy (vs Light) ^ 62 43 Absolute (vs Relative)

236


RESULTS Attitudes Towards Solitude The semantic differential of the concept solitude was completed and ordered by magnitude of differentiation for each of 19 dimensions. A factor analysis was then run on the dimensions, resulting in factors that we have labeled positive, wholeness, and solemn. (See Table 1.) This indicates that solitude is both seen as something positive and important and also as something solemn, serious, or consequential. The factor labeled wholeness may speak to the perceived benefits of solitude. Solitude is seen as something that completes and fills the self as compensatory to social interactions in the making of a complete person. Wilderness users appear to perceive solitude with sober importance for the consummation of self.

main. Additionally, as anticipated by the hypothesis, an attrition of respondents is seen in the movement up the hierarchy from physical to spiritual. This lends tentative support to the belief of solitude as hierarchical in nature. Further confirmation must await a scalogram analysis to verify the presence of Gutman Scale types of proper configuration for each domain or level of solitude achievement. A summative index was also devised to capture several distinct but not necessarily related factors. The most important items related to independence, disengaging from social roles, individuality, and escape from social expectations.

Table 2. Frequency of agreement with Gutman Scale items.

Hierarchy of Solitude Benefits In the attempt to measure solitude achievement, it was hypothesized that the outcomes possible in a given wilderness solitude experience comprise a progression through levels or domains, each level dominated by a characteristic component of the benefits achieved. Thus, solitude, defined as an "intrapersonal capacity," has the potential to involve the whole self. Varying degrees of aloneness either facilitate or hinder a wilderness user's progression through the hierarchy of solitude achievement. The solitude hierarchy was hypothesized to include five ordered levels: physical, emotional, volitional, intellectual, and spiritual. (See Table 2.) Each level became the focus of a cumulative scale item intended to capture a range of possible benefits, attending that particular dimension of the solitude hierarchy. The dimensions ofwilderness solitude discovered by Hammit (1982), Hammit and Brown (1984), and Hammit and Madden (1989) reflect the levels of the hierarchy and contain a similar range of potential intrapersonal dynamics. In the present analysis, a frequency of respondent agreement with each scale item was found to confirm the expected order of each solitude do-

Level^Frequency^Percent Physical^84^97.7 Emotional^75^87.2 Volitional^67^77.9 Intellectual^55^64.0 Spiritual^49^57.0

Factors Influencing Solitude Achievement Of interest was the degree of correlation between conditions in the wilderness and actual solitude achievement. Among physical conditions most highly correlated with solitude were those from outside wilderness, presence of horse groups, and amount of time one felt alone. (See Table 3.) Insignificant correlations were found for many indicators traditionally used to gage solitude, including number of large groups seen, presence of human structures, and total groups seen. 237


tate or impede the capacity for solitude to be realized.

Finally, the correlation of crowding perceptions and various predispositional factors for solitude achievement was accessed. (See Table 4.) The importance and involvement factors proved of relatively high correlation with solitude achievement. We expected to find a strong negative correlation between solitude and crowding, because crowding has often been used as a surrogate measure of solitude. The most striking outcome of the study was the finding of no relationship between solitude and crowding perceptions (where r = - 0.02 and p = 0.80).

• Solitude compensates for the limitations of social interaction in the search for meaning, happiness, self-awareness, and emotional maturity. • Solitude achievement is hierarchical in nature from physical, emotional, and volitional to intellectual and spiritual.

DISCUSSION

• Crowding perceptions and numbers of encounters were weak predictors of solitude achievement. This questions the value of solitude monitoring efforts that depend upon crowding and encounter measures as surrogate indicators of solitude.

From this initial analysis of the data, we wish to advance the following points: • Solitude conceptually differs from privacy. In solitude, the locus of consequence is the self-proper.

• The most effective predictors of solitude achievement were not physical characteristics of the setting, but rather predispositional factors that the visitor brings to the wilderness experience.

• Aloneness is a necessary condition of solitude. Further, the degree of aloneness is one of the major factors of solitude achievement in that varying degrees of aloneness either faciliTable 3. Correlates with solitude outcomes.

Variable

r

Noise from outside wilderness Horse groups camped near campsite Horse groups walking past campsite Time felt alone People seen on trail Total people seen Groups seen on trail Wildlife seen Aircraft seen Horse groups seen on trail Groups camped near campsite Groups walking past campsite Human structures seen Large groups seen on trail

-0.32 -0.31 -0.29 0.28 -0.18 -0.18 -0.17 0.15 -0.12 -0.11 -0.07 -0.04 -0.04 -0.10 238

0.01 0.01 0.01 0.01 0.10 0.11 0.13 0.18 0.28 0.28 0.51 0.68 0.65

0.34


Table 4. Influence of crowding perceptions and various predispositional factors on solitude achievement. Variable^

Correlation (r ) with Solitude Achievement^n-value

Importance of solitude to wilderness experience^0.48^

0.0001

Importance of solitude in general^

0.29^

0.01

Wilderness involvement^0.28^

0.01

Crowding perception^-0.02^

0.80

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;., and G. Brown, Jr. 1984. Functions of privacy in wilderness environments. Leisure Sciences 6:151-66.

Solitude is learned behavior. It is a capacity that results from a natural progression of the self nurtured in the natural environment. The further removed we have become from the natural environment and its attendant exposure to healthy aloneness, the less we have been able to properly develop our capacity for solitude. With much of today's population living almost exclusively in the built environment, it is of little wonder we should see large-scale behavioral dysfunction in solitude development.

Hammit, W., and M. Madden. 1989. Cognitive dimensions ofwilderness privacy: A field test and further explanation. Leisure Sciences 11:293-301. Margulis, S. 1977. Conceptions of privacy: Current status and next steps. Journal of Social Issues 33(3):5-2 1.

The challenge for wilderness managers and other recreation providers then is twofold. First, to manage the natural resource to ensure the necessary condition of aloneness, and second, but no less important, to educate, nurture, and promote the intrapersonal capacity for solitude in the wilderness user. If we would see people receive the full restorative potential of the wilderness experience, we must take seriously our responsibility to both preserve the natural resource and to build solitude receptivity in individuals.

Storr, A.1988. Solitude: A return to the self. New York City: Ballantine Books. AUTHORS Steve Hollenhorst Ernest Frank, III Division of Forestry West Virginia University P.O. Box 6125 Morgantown, WV

REFERENCES Albrecht, D., G. Bultena, E. Hoiberg, and^P. Nowak. 1982. The New Environmental Paradigm Scale. Journal of Environmental Education 13(3):39-43. Hammit, W. 1982. Cognitive dimensions of wilderness solitude. Environment and Behavior 14:478-93.

Alan Watson Wilderness Management Unit Intermountain Research Station P.O. Box 8090 Missoula, MT

239


IDENTITY AND THE EXPERIENCE OF WILDERNESS: ANALYSIS OF EXPERIENCE NARRATIVES FROM AUSTRALIA AND THE UNITED STATES MICHAEL PATTERSON DANIEL WILLIAMS LEA SCHERL

We argue that a long-standing goal in natural resource-based leisure research has been to interpret and describe the relationship between wildland recreationalists and the resources they use. In general, research programs exploring relationship to resource center around two competing perspectives regarding human nature. The prevailing approach has been grounded in an information processing model that makes important assumptions regarding three key aspects of human nature: 1) the source of well-being, 2) the nature of consciousness, and 3) the nature of experience. First, this model assumes that happiness and well-being occur when specific needs or goals are met (Diener, 1984; and Lofinan, 1991). Second, as implemented in leisure research based on the concepts ofmotivation and satisfaction (cf. Driver eta!. , 1987), this approach depicts wilderness recreationalists as rational, analytic, goaldirected individuals who evaluate alternative activities and settings based on objective properties to determine which will produce desired benefits. Finally, this model describes subjective experience as a predictable outcome caused by isolated environmental and personal variables (Altman and Rogoff,1987; and Anderson, 1986). Thus, this model adopts a deterministic perspective in which the variability in meanings that emerge from the encounter between people and the environment is viewed as a stable and predictable phenomenon. In contrast to the information processing model, the research described in this paper adopts a meaning-based model (cf. McCracken, 1987; and Mick and Buhl, 1992) as the foundation for exploring relationship to wilderness. This model maintains that happiness and well-being arise directly from the nature of activity and from interaction with objects, places, and people rather

than from attaining desired-end states (Diener, 1984; Lofinan, 1991; and Omodei and Wearing, 1990). Rather than beginning with a view of recreationalists as information processors seeking a package of benefits obtained through participation in a specific activity with a definite beginning and end, recreationalists are viewed as participating in the ongoing enterprise of constructing a life and an identity (McCracken, 1987). People are not seen as passively responding to meaning that objectively exists in the environment. Instead, they are seen as actively constructing meaning as they seek to create coherence in their lives. Thus, meaning is viewed as an emergent property that is actualized through a transactional relationship between person and setting (Mick and Buhl, 1992). The goal of this paper is to outline a specific hermeneutic research program for exploring the relationship between recreationalists and wilderness settings. Because many are unfamiliar with a hermeneutic approach to science, a briefdiscussion of its nonnative commitments is required. Since Kuhn's (1962) discussion ofscientific revolutions, philosophers of science have defined the appropriate unit of analysis for exploring a research tradition as its macrostructure (Anderson, 1986). This macrostructure is composed of normative philosophical commitments concerning axiology (the goals underlying a particular approach to science), ontology (assumptions about reality and human nature), and epistemology (assumptions related to the nature, methods, and limits of human knowledge) (Laudan, 1984). Different paradigms or approaches to science are characterized by differences in these core commitments. Critical pluralism and other post-positivist perspectives in the philosophy of science 240


emphasize the importance of seeking a fit between a researcher's perspective on the phenomenon being studied and the commitments of the research paradigm one uses to explore the phenomenon (Hunt, 1991; and Polkinghorne, 1983). Selection of hermeneutics as the normative paradigm underlying the research program described in this paper reflects the following philosophical commitments: Attempts to understand the realm of meaning underlying human action are more like interpreting texts than like gaining knowledge of objects in nature (Polkinghorne, 1988; and Olson, 1986). Because human experience is mutually defined by the transactional relationships among settings, individuals with unique identities, and situational influences, experience is more appropriately viewed as an emergent narrative rather than as predictable outcomes. 3. One of the fundamental ways people construct and express meaning in their lives is through narrative discourse and story-telling (Mishler, 1986a).

philosophy maintains that "if one puts individuals in groups before even having looked at individual behavior, it is clear that one will never learn anything about individual behavior; the results are about group averages ... or the nonexisting average individual" (Terwee, 1990). While this suggestion is not completely new to leisure research (cf. Shafer's [1969] warning about the average camper), the most common solution to this problem simply has been to look for characteristics by which to sub-aggregate users into more homogeneous groups. In contrast, the solution employed in hermeneutics is to begin analysis by seeking a detailed understanding of individual cases first (idiographic analysis) and then combining across individuals (nomothetic analysis) at a later stage. Although many hermeneutic analyses do seek to provide a more nomothetic level of understanding, the research presented in this paper focuses primarily on the idiographic analysis. With respect to substantive insights, the goals of analysis are to illustrate that wilderness experience and relationship to place, though not necessarily predictable, may be understood in ways that are managerially relevant and that a rich understanding of a small number of cases may at times be more useful (though not a substitute for) more generic and abstract knowledge than meets the traditional standards of generalizability. HERMENEUTIC RESEARCH

4. Narratives provide the basis for "a direct interpretation of a complex unit of social interaction, in comparison to the standard [research] approach where such inferences are based on de-contextualized bits and pieces" (Mishler, 1986b).

Hermeneutic research entails two components: 1) data production and 2) data analysis. The distinction between these two reflects the fact that some hermeneutic research is based on the analysis of existing texts (data), which the analyst did not personally collect. The discussion below will focus on the hermeneutic analysis of open-ended interviews.

A more detailed discussion of the ontological, axiological, and epistemological assumptions of hermeneutics can be found in Patterson (1993).

Hermeneutic analysis begins with in-depth exploration of individual interviews to identify predominant themes through which narrative accounts of specific experiential situations can be meaningfully organized, interpreted, and presented. This involves: 1) establishing a point of view from which to begin analysis, 2) reading the

GOALS OF THE ANALYSIS Traditional positivist approaches to science seek to make universal or generalizable statements on the basis ofaggregate data. However, hermeneutic 241


entire narrative several times to gain an understanding of it in its entirety, 3) using this preliminary understanding as the basis for a deeper exploration ofthe "parts," and 4) modifying the understanding of the whole on the basis of the more detailed understanding of the parts. Tesch (1990) describes this as developing an organizing system that can be used to help determine what individual statements reveal about the phenomenon being studied. In this paper, the organizing system is based on the themes of claimed identity and current personal project. Claimed Identity Mishler (1986b) proposes that all interview narratives are a form of self-presentation filled with references to a particular self-identity claimed by the respondent. For example, an interview about an individual's wilderness experience may contain references to an identity linked to a culture structured around a specialized activity (e.g., rock climbing), an identity related to the social group in which the experience occurred (e.g., a concerned parent), or an identity related to more global setting characteristics (e.g., a wilderness purist). Given the importance attributed to identity in hermeneutics, one major objective of the analysis will be to identify the way that respondents express their identity through the interview and how this is related to their "construction" and experience of wilderness settings. Current Personal Project Hermeneutics also emphasizes the concept of projects rather than goal-directed behavior. The phrase current personal project is used to emphasize: 1) the idea that human experience is an emergent narrative rather than a deterministically predictable outcome and 2) the concept of situated freedom in which people are seen as having the capacity to react in distinctively individual ways within the boundaries imposed by their social, cultural, and environmental backgrounds. Thus, in the following analysis, particular attention is given to identifying how people understand the current personal project they are engaged in and how this project is related both to their

"claimed" identity and their "construction" and experience of wilderness settings. RESULTS The first set of interviews comes from a study conducted by Lea Scherl for the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority. Lady Musgrave Island is a forested coral cay on the Greater Barrier Reef (Scherl and Valentine, 1992). Data collection consisted of on-site interviews that were tape-recorded and later transcribed. Interviews followed a standard set of questions consisting of 25 open-ended questions addressing issues such as the nature and meaning of the experience, perception of the setting, and opinions regarding management related issues. Below, excerpts from detailed interpretations of two interviews from this area are summarized. Camper 105 The most prominent theme runnin g throughout the interview with was Camper 105's definition of the current project in which he was engaged: escape. The meaning of responses to many ofthe questions in the interview become more apparent when interpreted with respect to this project. Many responses provided insight into his personal definition of what it means to escape, while others suggested how his understanding of the project shaped his perception of the setting. A second primary theme was related to the identity "claimed" by the respondent in the course of the interview--that of an experienced backcountry camper. This claimed identity was closely related to the project of escape. The opportunity for escape was also linked to three other themes running throughout the interview: attention, convenience, and safety. Escape - Attention - The attention theme has two sub-dimensions: 1) captivation and 2) intrusion. For this respondent, captivation represents the positive possibility of escape. It is the opportunity to experience stimuli he finds inherently fascinating, involving, and different from that typical of life in Sydney (Australia) and is linked

242


Day User 68

to a detail-specific, object-centered mode of perception. In contrast to captivating stimuli, intrusions are a class of stimuli that represent the conditions this camper is trying to escape. Day trippers were particularly intrusive because they were not a part of the experience, but they were more "like going to a glorified museum." The mere presence of other campers was not a problem because their mode of experiencing the environment was consistent with the nature of his project. However, because there was only one campsite on the island, Camper 105 was sensitive to the proximity of other campers. This influenced his preference concerning appropriate group size--he preferred large groups because they camped together and, therefore, took up less space than several small groups would have.

Day User 68's current project is best described as one of enjoying the experience. His responses suggest the nature of the experience was inherently subject-centered. Also consistent with a subject-centered mode of perception are passages emphasizing various forms of sensory experience. In contrast to the detail-specific, objectcentered experience of Camper 105, this visitor's experiences were more impressionistic and holistic in nature. World Traveler - A claimed identity that was evident throughout the interview was the respondent's self-portrayal as a world traveler. This identity seemed to influence the manner in which he experienced Lady Musgrave in several ways. For example, he viewed the experience as a visit to another world. This perspective on the experience left him with a feeling of connectedness with the environment as well as a sense of wonder and awe. Ultimately, this sense of awe and feeling of oneness is what produced the deeper meaning of the experience. This respondent's experience as a world traveler and his feeling of connection and sharing as a result of the visit also influenced his responses to other questions in the interview. When asked about his feelings regarding the size, etc. of tourist operations, he thought a higher level of use would be possible if operators would only share and dovetail operations. Also, relative to the previous interview, his narrative suggests a greater concern for the environment as opposed to a concern for the effects of setting conditions on his own immediate experience.

Escape - Convenience - A second theme linked to this camper's personal definition of escape and shaping his perception of the island was convenience. Although he wanted to escape civilization, adversity and the rigors of primitive life were not essential features of the experience. Additionally, he found the solar-powered toilets "pretty fantastic." However, he had mixed feelings. He recognized that this added convenience also attracted more people, forced visitors to camp in close proximity, and increased the possibility of intrusive interactions. Asa result, he was willing to sacrifice this convenience to preserve the opportunity to escape. Escape - Safety - Although he wanted to escape civilization, Camper 105 did not want to be entirely isolated from the sense of security it affords. His desire for safety defined the extreme boundaries of suitable opportunities for escape. This understanding helps explain why he found the presence of other campers acceptable. It also clarifies his response to an earlier question in which he indicated that commercial fishing was acceptable as long as fishing vessels did not remain in the lagoon. His opinion regarding commercial fishing, then, was not centered on the effect it has on the resource or the apparent discrepancy between commercial fishing and wilderness. Rather, it was shaped by his desire to escape but not be completely isolated.

MORE RESULTS The second pair of interviews come from a study conducted at Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area, a relatively wild, undeveloped stretch of river in the eastern United States. Data collection consisted of on-site interviews that were tape-recorded and later transcribed. Interviews followed a standard set of questions consisting of 25 open-ended questions addressing issues such as the nature and meaning of the experience, perception of the setting, and opinions regarding management-related issues. 243


Interview 23

Two projects are evident inthe responses throughout this interview. The first, most immediate project was relaxation. This project led to a subject-centered experience, characterized by global impressions and an inward focus on thoughts, moods, and sensations rather than on a detailed apprehension of the environment. This respondent's canoeing trip was also part of a more long-team, life project that illustrates a stronger attachment to the place. For example, when asked to explain how the trip came about, the respondent began describing, not plans for this particular trip, but events that began over 10 years ago. The responses suggest that this longterm relationship with the area was far more important to the respondent than events associated with the immediate experience. The theme of claimed identity was less evident throughout the interview than the theme of current projects. However, an identity that is evident and appears to influence the nature of this respondent's experience is his role as a responsible father. For example, when asked about what he is aware of during the canoeing trip, he refers to his children (who are on the trip with him). In part, this arises from his concern for their safety. But, at the same time, watching their reactions becomes one of the high points of the trip. This identity also seemed linked to the one complaint he had about the management of the area: They demand that we wear life preservers [when we're using our inner tubes in the water], which I can understand, but it's a little annoying ... because they're my tubes, and I don't let anyone in them who doesn't know how to swim well. Thus, enforcement of this regulation challenged his standing as a responsible father. Interview 6 The current project for this respondent focused on the social context and the desire to experience

family togetherness. This interpretation of the project is further supported by comments suggesting she did not play a major role in the decision to choose this particular setting and that, personally, she would have found other environments more appealing. In fact, the activity she most participated in on her visit to the Recreation Area (reading a book) had little to do with the setting. At the same time, her identity as a concerned mother and her desire to experience family togetherness did lend an instrumental component to the perception of the environment. DISCUSSION

Perception is a central issue in the management of wilderness environments for leisure experiences. In wilderness research, perception is typically anchored in a reductionist, deterministic, stimulus-response model in which isolated stimuli presented out of their natural context are rated by respondents. Interpretive researchers maintain that by fragmenting the perceptual process, a reductionist approach artificially removes it from the complexity of everyday life (Wertz, 1983). As a consequence, responses to isolated stimuli in artificial contexts may not adequately represent perceptual responses occurring during the lived experience of leisure. The narratives from Lady Musgrave and Delaware Water Gap suggest that perceptual experience is contextual, influenced by individuals' unique identities, their current personal projects, recent past experiences, and situational influences. For example, consider Camper 105 on Lady Musgrave Island. Although he wanted to escape civilization, he did not oppose the presence of commercial fishing vessels. In his mind, the vessels symbolized safety and not the intrusive qualities of civilization. Also, in his opinion, outhouses were not out of place on the wilderness island because his definition of the project of escaping also emphasized convenience. Thus, his personal understanding of the project of escaping influenced his perceptions of the setting conditions. The idiographic level of hermeneutic analysis is often hidden or glossed over due to space limitations in peer-reviewed journal articles. This is 244


unfortunate because this is both the most critical stage of the analysis as well as the stage most likely not to be accepted by those with a positivist world view because of its interpretive nature. However, while it is true that hermeneutic analysis changes the nature of interpretation in research and analysis, its proponents argue that it creates a more appropriate balance in interpretive responsibility between researcher and respondent. This is because "the dialogue between interviewer and interviewee ... create[s] the possibility of [interpretation] ... that is tested in the arena of open discussion" (Bellah et al., 1985). Idiographic analysis provides an understanding of individual cases, which serves as a suitable basis for determining when it is appropriate to aggregate orgroup responses. Nomothetic analyses consist of looking for patterns in narrative descriptions of experiences. Such patterns may range from relatively tangible management issues to more abstract and theoretical concepts.

Anderson, P. 1986. On method in consumer research: A critical relativist perspective. Journal of Consumer Research 13:155-73. Bellah, R., R. Madison, W. Sullivan, A. Swidler, and S. Tipton. 1985. Habits of the heart: Individualism and commitment in American life. Berkeley: University of California Press. Diener, E. 1984. Subjective well-being. Psychological Bulletin 95:542-75. Driver, B., P. Brown, G. Stankey, and T. Gregoire. 1987. The ROS planning system: Evolution, basic concepts, and research needed. Leisure Sciences 9:201-12. Hunt, S. 1991. Positivism and paradigm dominance in consumer research: Towards critical pluralism and rapprochement. Journal of Consumer Research 18:32-44. Kuhn, T. 1962. The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

In conclusion, hermeneutics is not offered as a substitute or replacement for past approaches to wilderness research in the leisure discipline. Because hermeneutics takes a different view of the phenomena to be studied (i.e., has different ontological assumptions) and has different axiological goals, it should be viewed as a complement to the existing approach to research. However, in recognizing that more than one approach to science legitimately exists in our field, we need to be more conscientious about evaluating our paradigmatic commitments and matching these underlying commitments to the phenomenon being studied. To accomplish this, we need to become more familiar not only with the philosophy of science, but also with the literature ofthose who study the practice of science.

Laudan, L. 1984. Science and values. Berkeley: University of California Press. Lofman, B. 1991. Elements of experiential consumption: An exploratory study. Advances in Consumer Research 18:72935. McCracken, G. 1987. Advertising: Meaning or information? Advances in Consumer Research 14:121-4. Mick, D., and C. Buhl. 1992. A meaning-based model of advertising experiences. Journal of Consumer Research 19:317-38. Mishler, E. 1986a. Research interviewing: Context and narrative. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

REFERENCES

Altman, I., and B. Rogoff. 1987. World views in psychology: Trait, interactional, organismic, and transactional perspectives. In: Handbook of environmental psychology, eds D. Stokols and I. Altman. 1:7-40. New York City: John Wiley and Sons.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;. 1986b. The analysis of interview narratives. In: Narrative psychology: The storied nature of human conduct, ed T. Sarbin. New York City: Praeger. 245


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Olson, D. 1986. Mining the human sciences: Some relations between hermeneutics and epistemology. Interchange 17:159-71.

This research was supported in part by funds provided by the Intermountain Research Station, USDA Forest Service.

Omodei, M., and A. Wearing. 1990. Need satisfaction and involvement in personal projects: Towards an integrative model of subjective well-being. Journal ofPersonality and Social Psychology 59:762-9.

AUTHORS Michael Patterson Daniel Williams Department of Forestry Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University Blacksburg, VA 24061

Polkinghome, D. 1983. Methodology for the human sciences: Systems of inquiry. Albany: State University Press of New York. â&#x20AC;&#x201D;. 1988. Narrative knowing and the human sciences. Albany: State University Press of New York.

Lea Scherl Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority Townsville, Queensland Australia

Patterson, M. 1993. The normative structure of science, hermeneutics, and leisure experience. Ph.D. dissertation. Blacksburg: Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University. Scherl, L., and P. Valentine. 1992. Monitoring the quality of visitor experience in national parks. Paper presented at the IV World Congress on National Parks and Protected Areas, Workshop Managing Tourism in Protected Areas (Caracas, Venezuela). Shafer, E. 1969. The average camper who doesn't exist. USDA Forest Service Research Paper NE- 142. Terwee, S. 1990. Hermeneutics in psychology and psychoanalysis. Berlin: Springer-Verlag. .

Tesch, R. 1990. Qualitative research: Analysis types and software tools. New York City: Falmer Press. Wertz, F. 1983. From everyday to psychological description: Analyzing the moments of a qualitative data analysis. Journal of PhenomenologicalPsychology 14:197-241.

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PERSONAL GROWTH BY LEARNING- VERSUS PERFORMANCE-ORIENTED PARTICIPANTS IN OUTWARD BOUND JAMES TANGEN-FOSTER LAUREL TANGEN-FOSTER

Dweck has proposed that learning and performance goal orientations mediate mastery/helplessness and are associated with perceptions of competence, control, and social concern. Individuals who have developed a learning orientation are concerned with self-improvement and use their past performances as measures of success and competence. Learning orientations are most closely associated with enhancement of mastery and competence. People with a learning orientation seek challenging tasks even when they perceive their ability at a task to be low.

Since its beginnings in Wales in 1941, Outward Bound has grown to become the largest and most emulated wilderness challenge program in the world (Thompson and Bacon, 1988). Today, there are 46 affiliated schools worldwide and thousands of wilderness programs that utilize methods based, in large measure, on the ideals of KurtHahn, Outward Bound's founder and "moving spirit." Hahn believed that groups of young people working together to surmount wilderness challenges could increase their self-confidence, tenacity, and self-esteem (James, 1980; and 1990). Such challenge accomplishment experiences are thought by contemporary theorists to diminish helplessness and increase feelings of competence and personal control, and thereby enhance mastery behavior patterns, including challenge seeking, persistence against failure, and the establishment and attainment of personally valued goals (Newman, 1980; and Hannon and Templin, 1980). However, the most important lessons of Outward Bound, according to Hahn, are to heighten awareness of social interdependence, increase compassion and concern for others, and develop commitment to service to society. Hahn believed that people who had strong social values are less likely to become absorbed in selfcentered ambition. Social-cognitive theory (Dweck, 1986; and Dweck and Leggett, 1988) suggests a link between mastery/helplessness and social concern and provides a framework for further exploration of the personal growth processes and benefits of Outward Bound programs. The purpose of this paper is to present results of a study of Outward Bound participants that explored relations among variables in Dweck's theory.

In contrast, individuals with a performance orientation are concerned with appearing competent to others and avoiding judgments of incompetence. A performance orientation tends to increase one's vulnerability to helpless patterns and, ultimately, may limit personal growth. The effect of performance goals on behavior depends on the person's perceived level of ability. Performance-oriented persons who believe their ability levels to be low tend to exhibit helpless behaviors (i.e., challenge avoidance and low persistence). When performance-oriented persons perceive their ability levels to be high, they tend to exhibit mastery-like behavior (i.e., challenge seeking and high persistence) because they expect to succeed. However, they tend to sacrifice learning opportunities involving the risk of failure for opportunities to appear competent to others. Thus, performance goals tend to interfere with personal growth and may lead to helplessness. Learning-oriented goals, which consistently lead to mastery, enhance personal growth. Dweck and Leggett (1988) assert that the development of a learning or performance orientation is linked to a person's perceptions of control. People who believe that attributes of themselves, others, and the environment are relatively fixed 247


and uncontrollable are likely to develop a performance orientation. They fear revealing low ability because they believe that their ability level is static and unchangeable. Learning-oriented people are more likely to believe that attributes of themselves, others, and the environment are malleable. Revealing low ability is not feared by people with a learning orientation because they see ability as dynamic instead of static (i.e., they can increase their ability, if they work at improving). Learning-oriented people believe that their own social competence can be improved. (See Table 1.) They seek relationships and social experiences that will further develop their social competence. They view the personal and moral attributes of others as situational and malleable. Therefore, they tend to be empathetic and non judgmental. Performance-oriented people tend to seek social relationships that validate their own social qualities and likability and avoid situations that may yield negative judgments and rejection. Viewing the attributes of others as fixed traits, they are less tolerant of the perceived deficiencies and character flaws of others. They are also less altruistic than learning-oriented people, engaging in moral actions "to prove to others that they are moral individuals" (Dweck and Leggett, 1988).

Outward Bound's objectives of increasing participant self-awareness, independence, and selfconfidence are congruent with Dweck's conception of a learning orientation. Kurt Hahn believed in challenging experiences for the development of mastery (James, 1980; and 1990). Hahn sought to foster in students the goal of selfimprovement rather than the development and demonstration of superior ability. Richards (1977) stated that the focus of Outward Bound should be on "the internal competition of the individual with oneself, trying to achieve greater personal goals ... which form the basis of competition between where the individual's standards have been, and where he/she wants them to be." THE STUDY

Data were obtained from pre- and post-course questionnaires of participants in the North Cascades Branch of Pacific Crest Outward Bound School (PCOBS) during the Summer of 1989. The content of the courses included mountaineering, physical conditioning, wilderness skills training, and a one- or three-day solo. Ten of the courses (155 students) lasted 22 days, and nine courses (117 students) were eight days long. Of the 272 participants surveyed, 260 (96 percent)

Table 1. Summary of Dweck's model as applied to this study.

Locus of Control Social Perspective^ Goal Orientation^Competence^Self-Perception^ High^Mastery Learning^ Low^Mastery

Empathy^Internal

High^Mastery-Like Performance^ Low^Helpless-Like

Comparison^External

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responded with usable pre- and post-course questionnaires. Of the total number of respondents, 156 (60 percent) were male and 104 (40 percent) were female; 225 (86 percent) were single, and the median age for the sample was 19. Goal orientations, mastery, and social concern perceptions were measured with self-report scales from the Inventory of Personal Investment (IPI) (Braskamp and Maehr, 1985). The IPI is a product of two decades of research on goal orientations and other aspects of achievement motivation (Maehr and Nicholls, 1980; and Nicholls, 1984). The mastery factors on the IPI include: a) sense of competence (i.e., general self-confidence), b) self-reliance (i.e., independence and performance anxiety), and c) goal-directedness (i.e., perceived ability to set and attain valued goals).

Locus of control was measured with Levenson's internal and external scales (1974). Internals believe they exercise personal control over their lives, while externals believe that the world is basically unordered and random and beyond their control. Participant perception of wilderness competence was measured with a single scaled responseto "rate your ability inwilderness skills." RESULTS AND DISCUSSION

Two sets of correlations were performed in order to explore and validate the variables and relations used to operationalize Dweck's model. In Table 2, correlations above the diagonal are pretest with pretest; below the diagonal are post-test with post-test. The correlations among the variables tend to confirm most ofthe relations hypothesized in Dweck's model.

Table 3. Means for Mastery, *Goal Orientations, *Social Concern, *Locus of Control,** and Wilderness Competence. * * *

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Post-Test

3.49 (.61) 3.04 (.52) 3.07 (.56)

3.59 (.57) 3.23 (.46) 3.08 (.55)

.000 .000 .758

Goal Orientations Learning Performance

3.62 (.47) 3.27 (.65)

3.64 (.45) 3.29 (.56)

.560 .200

Social Concern

3.56 (.49)

3.60 (.53)

.100

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4.33 (.68) 2.77 (.81)

4.31 (.66) 2.84 (.91)

.758 .140

Wilderness Competence

4.92 (2.06)

7.19 (1.55)

.000

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Locus of Control

****

*Scales used by permission of Metritech (1985). Items range from 1 = Strongly Disagree to 5 = Strongly Agree. **From Levenson's internal and chance scales (1981). Items range from 1 = Strongly Disagree to 6 = Strongly Agree. * * *Wilderness competence was measured with a single item, which ranged from 1 = Very Poor to 10 = Excellent. * * * *Based on paired t-tests with two-tail probability. 250


CONCLUSIONS

Table 2 shows that mastery perceptions are more closely related to learning than to performance. The highest correlations are between learning and goal-directedness at both pretest (.51) and posttest (.62). Learning is more closely associated with internality than with externality. On the pretest, learning correlates positively with internality (.25) and negatively with externality (-.12). On the post-test, the relations between learning and internality (.41) and learning and externality (-.07) become more pronounced.

Goal orientation theory asserts that mastery can exist within either a performance- or learninggoal framework. Individuals whose goal is to improve rather than to prove that they are better than others also tend to be more empathetic and compassionate. Learning orientations are closely aligned with Outward Bound's ideals of increasing individualism and social concern. Our study provides little evidence that Outward Bound affects goal orientations. Participants were significantly higher (p < .000) in learning than in performance at pretest and post-test, although no significant change was found for either variable as a result of participating in an Outward Bound course.

The correlations between goal orientations and social concern are consistent with Dweck's model. On the pretest, social concern is positively related to learning (.40) and negatively related to performance (-.15). On the post-test, the correlation between social concern and learning is .45, whereas no relation was found between performance and social concern.

While it appears that Outward Bound increases some perceptions of mastery for participants, the observation that goal orientations are not significantly affected suggests the need for further study on the relevance of these concepts to the processes and experiences of Outward Bound. One question that arises is whether it is possible to affect traits such as goal orientations in the span of an Outward Bound course. (Additional analysis of our data showed no significant differences in 8- and 22-day participants in terms of our dependent variables.)

The significant, negative correlations between self-reliance and externality (pretest = -.26 and post-test = -.27) indicate that self-reliance is related to perceptions of control over one's destiny. However, the finding that performance correlated with internality (pretest = .24 and post-test = .20) and not with externality (pretest = .07 and post-test = .03) suggests limitations in our measurements of performance goals or controllability. Table 3 shows that the overall sample is high in learning and internality and relatively low in performance and externality. T-tests indicated no change in goal orientations or locus of control. These findings confirm the trait-like nature of the goal orientations (Maehr and Braskamp, 1986).

Another issue addressed below deals with the instructional focus of Outward Bound. Similar questions can be raised with respect to the finding that social concern was not significantly affected by Outward Bound participation. Joshua Miner (1987), who studied with Kurt Hahn in Scotland and subsequently helped to establish Outward Bound in the United States, recently criticized contemporary Outward Bound programs for placing too much emphasis on increasing self-confidence through personal performance accomplishments. He called for a return to Hahn's mission of developing an individual's social concern and a sense of competence, which are not contingent upon recognition from others.

The finding that locus of control did not change following Outward Bound participation is contrary to Marsh, Richards, and Barnes's study (1986), which found significant change in locus of control for Outward Bound participants. Perceptions of self-reliance also remained stable, indicating that Outward Bound does not appear to diminish anxiety associated with participant performance. Social concern did not increase significantly (at p < .05). Two of the three mastery perceptions increased significantly, as did perceived wilderness competence.

Achievement motivation research indicates that changing participant goal orientations from perfor251


mance to learning will require: a) increasing individuals' beliefs that ability is malleable, b) decreasing individuals' concerns about others' perceptions of their abilities, c) altering the ways in which individuals interpret and define success and failure, and d) encouraging participants to set challenging, realistic, and specific goals. The instructional method at Outward Bound includes briefing and debriefing activities through discussions so that experiences can serve as generalized metaphors to real-life issues and behaviors (Bacon, 1983). During these discussions, instructors can contrast the implications of certain challenge activities from performanceand learning-oriented perspectives. Outward Bound instructors may also be able to structure the Outward Bound environment such that social comparison is minimized and self-referenced evaluations of success and failure are accommodated. Teaching people to attribute failure to effort or strategy instead of innate ability will tend to increase mastery behavior and may lead to lasting change in goal orientation (Dweck, 1986). Participants should be encouraged to set goals, but goal setting should involve measurable and observable steps towards specific behavioral change, as opposed to general do-your-best-type goals (Burton, 1992). Ultimately, the challenge is to alter the beliefs and values that underlie ego-centered, performance goal orientations by helping program participants to see the environment as a dynamic, growing, and changing system. People who believe the world and the people in it are changeable are more likely to be caring, giving, and forgiving of others. Wilderness program participants who come to value a learning orientation over a performance orientation may help to realize Kurt Hahn's vision of increased empathy, compassion, and commitment towards the improvement of society.

Braskamp, L., and M. Maehr. 1985. Spectrum: An organizational development tool. Champaign: Metritech. Burton, D. 1992. The Jekyll/Hyde nature of goals: Reconceptualizing goal setting in sport. In: Advances in sport psychology, ed. T. Horn. Champaign, Il.: Human Kinetics. Dweck, C. 1986. Motivational processes affecting learning. American Psychologist 41:10418. —., and E. Leggett. 1988. A social-cognitive approach to motivation and personality. Psychological Review 95:256-73. Harmon, P., and G. Templin. 1980. Conceptualizing experiential education. In: High adventure and outdoor pursuits: Organization and leadership, eds J. Meier, T. Morash, and G. Welton. Salt Lake City: Brighton. James, T. 1980. Sketch ofa moving spirit. Journal of Experiential Education. Spring. —. 1990. Kurt Hahn and the aims of education. Journal ofExperiential Education 13(1):613. Levenson, H. 1974. Activism and powerful others: Distinctions within the concept of internalexternal control. Journal of Personality Assessment. 38:377-83. Maehr, M. 1984. Meaning and motivation. In: Research on motivation in education: Student motivation, eds R. and C. Ames. New York City: Academic Press. —., and L. Braskamp. 1986. The motivation factor: A theory of personal investment. Lexington, Mass.: Lexington.

REFERENCES

Maehr, M., and J. Nicholls. 1980. Culture and achievement motivation: A second look. In: Studies in cross-cultural psychology, ed. N. Warren. New York City: Academic Press.

Bacon, S. 1983. The conscious use of metaphor in Outward Bound. Denver: Colorado Outward Bound School. 252


Marsh, H., G. Richards, and J. Barnes. 1986. Multidimensional self-concepts: The effect of participation in an Outward Bound programme. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 50:195-204. Miner, J. 1987. Outward Bound: The original "need"â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Is it the same today? Paper presented at the annual conference of the Association for Experiential Education (Port Townsend, Wa.). Newman, R. 1980. Alleviating learned helplessness in a wilderness setting: An application of attribution theory to Outward Bound. In: Achievement motivation: Recent trends in theory and research, ed. L. Fyans. New York City: Plenum. Nicholls, J. 1984. Striving to demonstrate and develop ability: A theory of achievement motivation. In: The development of achievement motivation, ed. J. Nicholls. Greenwich, Conn.: JAI Press. Richards, G.1977. Some educational implications of Outward Bound. Sydney: Australian Outward Bound Foundation. Thompson, D., and S. Bacon. 1988. Outward Bound in America: Past, present, and future. In: The highest use of wilderness: Using wilderness experience programs to develop human potential, ed. J. Hendee. Moscow: International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation and University of Idaho. AUTHORS James Tangen-Foster Adventure Bound University of Idaho Moscow, ID 83843 Laurel Tangen-Foster College of Education University of Idaho Moscow, ID 83843

253


WILDERNESS CIVILITY: COOPERATION AND COORDINATION IN THE WILDERNESS JOHN HEYWOOD

Wilderness civility means that all wilderness users should show respect and consideration for one another. Accepting civility as a desirable condition raises the question: How are appropriate uses and behaviors determined? Two strategies will be considered in this paper that can define the appropriateness of uses and behaviors in wilderness. The first strategy concerns Wilderness spelled with an upper case W. Where wilderness is legally designated and managed by a governmental agency, the institutional processes of planning and public involvement can be used to negotiate solutions to wilderness use disputes. These institutional processes attempt to foster cooperation among the interested parties and usually take place in more formal settings some distance from the Wilderness area under consideration.

COOPERATION PROBLEMS AND STRATEGIES

The second strategy concerns wilderness spelled with a lower case w. This is the subjective wilderness of individual experience that may be contiguous with or separate from Wilderness. When humans enter the wilderness, it becomes a social place where personal expectations and preferences are enhanced, modified, or changed through social interactions. When users interact, they may attempt to coordinate their actions in order to regularize wilderness behavior.

Disputes arise because the parties involved see themselves as winning or losing depending on how decisions are eventually made. Thus, if a decision is made to maintain or increase outfitted, riding/pack stock uses, these interests feel they have won, while the non-outfitted, backpacking interests feel they have lost. The opposite is also true, a decision to reduce outfitted, riding/pack stock uses is seen as a loss for these interests and a win for the non-outfitted, backpacking interests. Consequently, studies of disputes show there is a strong tendency to take positions not conducive to finding optimal solutions (Hardin, 1982; Axelrod, 1984; Taylor, 1987; and Skyrms, 1990).

This paper will review cooperation and coordination strategies for insights concerning the processes and solutions to wilderness civility problems. Cooperation strategies are concerned with finding solutions to disputes where the parties involved are likely to perceive only win/loselose/win outcomes and to establish negotiating positions not conducive to finding an optimal solution. Coordination strategies are used by interacting individuals when they must chose one solution to a behavioral problem when there are at least two equally acceptable solutions.

Laws establishing Wilderness or equivalent areas generally set broad guidelines concerning acceptable uses and prohibitions on activities incompatible with the mandated wilderness concept. Within these broad frameworks there is still leeway concerning uses and management of particular Wilderness areas. Consequently disputes arise when user groups have different ideas about appropriate Wilderness uses. For example, in the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex (BMWC) in Montana, during the 1970s and 1980s, disputes arose over such things as outfitted and nonoutfitted uses, backpacking and riding/pack stock uses, and the use of aircraft to gain access to the BMWC (Stokes, 1990).

This tendency for confrontation results from two inappropriate tactics. One inappropriate tactic is the attempt by each Wilderness user to maximize their own interests at the expense of all other user's interests. Such a tactic ultimately results in loses for all users of the Wilderness. For 254


example, overcrowding has been a problem at popular Wilderness areas in the United States. Overcrowding results from each Wilderness user's desire to maximize their own Wilderness experience, which is to visit the Wilderness area, without regard for any other Wilderness user's experience. The result is the loss of solitude, freedom, and pristine nature for all users of the Wilderness. A second inappropriate tactic is a winner take all approach. This results in an unwillingness of winners to compensate losers. For example, when special interest user groups have access to the Wilderness, such as backcountry pilots and outfitters, they may feel they have won this right. They may not recognize, however, that other users feel they have lost an important element or condition of the Wilderness. Equity may demand that winners be willing to compensate losers by self-imposing or agreeing to the imposition of restrictions on their use. The Limits of Acceptable Change (LAC) system (Stankey et al., 1985) and the Transactive Planning Process (TPP) (Stokes, 1990) provide Wilderness managers with strategies to overcome cooperation problems and inappropriate tactics. The LACITPP framework replaces the tendency towards confrontation and concerns about winning and losing with a program that provides for face-to-face dialogue and mutual learning. The BMWC has served as a laboratory for testing and refining the LAC/TPP framework since the early 1980s (Wuerthner, 1990; and Stokes, 1990). Dialogue and mutual learning were facilitated through the establishment of a BMWC task force made up of USDA Forest Service managers and representatives of recreation interests and major conservation groups. An atmosphere of mutual respect has developed that enhances the task force's ability to agree on acceptable management standards and provides strong support for management implementation. Results have been, for example, an acceptable impact/use intensity classification to alleviate overcrowding, resulting from the inappropriate tactic of each user trying to maximize their own interests, and a

restriction on horse use in the sub-alpine zones of the Swan Range that avoided a winner take all confrontation (Wuerthner, 1990). Wilderness civility can be enhanced when the solutions to cooperation problems, negotiated throughplanning/public involvement systems such as the LAC, TPP, result in social norms. Social norms can emerge from solutions to cooperation problems when only one solution becomes valued and the norm is enforced through sanctions or the threat of sanctions. The advantage of a system like the LAC/TPP is the high level of agreement on values among planning participants that results from a sense of ownership of the final management plan (Wuerthner, 1990), thus enhancing the emergence of social norms that ensure compliance with the negotiated decisions. Few Wilderness areas have been through the LAC/TPP process, however, and even for those that have not, all Wilderness users are involved in or aware of the LACI TPP process and the specific outcomes for the Wilderness area, so the next section considers how civility can be enhanced through the social interactions of users in the wilderness. COORDINATION PROBLEMS AND STRATEGIES Coordination problems arise when there are two or more equally acceptable solutions to a behavioral problem. While some wilderness users have strong values about appropriate behaviors in wilderness, other users' values are not as strong. Consequently, coordination problems have developed in wilderness concerning such things as camping evidence versus low-impact camping, fire rings versus no fire rings, latrines versus individual cat holes, burying garbage versus "carry-in/carry-out," crude structures versus no structures, and single trails versus multiple parallel trails. Solutions to coordination problems are reached when members of a population (i.e., users of a wilderness area) consistently choose one solution. Lewis (1969) recognized that coordination problems are most often solved without reaching 255


Figure 1. Process For Determining the Appropriateness of Behavior

ve

that are assessed by

OBJECTS (persons, events and/or artifacts)

some of which give

as characteristic of

GROUP(S) 0 PERSONS

indicating solutions to coordination problems

256


agreement through oral communication. The only way to coordinate appropriate behaviors, without communicating orally, is for each wilderness user to consider his or her preferences and their expectations of the other wilderness users' preferences. Lewis states: "... we may acquire those expectations, or correct or corroborate whatever expectations we already have, by putting ourselves in the other fellow's shoes, to the best of our ability." In other words, each wilderness user will do his or her part if he or she is sufficiently confident that the other wilderness users will do theirs. Systems of concordant mutual expectations result in regularity in human behavior that is conventional. Lewis defines convention as a regularity in the behavior of the members of a population when they are agents in a recurrent situation in which some fraction of everyone prefers and expects some fraction of everyone else to prefer some fraction of everyone to conform to the regularity. Conventions develop in wilderness through the social interactions of wilderness users. Social interactions occur between those who know one another, between those who are strangers, and with the evidence of other users' past use. Most humans enter wilderness in small groups (two to five members) where members know one another and where agreement about appropriate behavior is relatively easier to achieve within the group. For small groups, encounters with other groups or the evidence of other groups' previous uses are critical to their members' social definition of wilderness because the appropriateness of behavior can vary between different groups. An increasing proportion of humans enter wilderness in large groups (10 to 35 members) through the auspices of commercial guides or non-profit environmental organizations where at least some of the other members are strangers. For large groups, the size and makeup of the group and the leadership of the guide or leader are critical to the social definition ofwilderness because notions of appropriate behavior can vary amonggroup members (Heywood, 1988).

A general conceptual model can be applied to the problem of understanding how small groups or members of large groups solve coordination problems within the wilderness context. (See Figure 1.) Wilderness users are subjects who perceive objects, which may be other persons, events, or behavioral artifacts. Other persons may be other wilderness users or group members, agency personnel, and guides or leaders. Events can be social occasions, such as trail or camp encounters, storytelling and rescue operations, or noteworthy natural phenomena such as severe storms and big rapids. Artifacts are physical evidence of the actions of other persons or events and can include such things as fire rings, litter and bare ground or storm damage, and wrecked equipment. The importance of an object is the social cues it conveys. Social cues give indications of the appropriateness or inappropriateness of certain behaviors. Assessment involves the subject's categorization of the social cue as characteristic of a group or groups of persons. For example, fire damage could be attributed to users who are careless with campfires or wilderness managers who adhere to "let burn" policies. The subject may be a member of the group, may be a member of another group, or may aspire to membership in the group. The group or groups that are associated with the perceived objects provide the subject with higher order expectations that indicate solutions to coordination problems. The solutions result in conventions that provide guides for determining appropriate social behavior in the wilderness. CONCLUSION Wilderness civility, or incivility as the case may be, can be conceived of as the result of functioning or non-functioning institutional processes or as an interactive social system. When institutional processes function optimally, common values can be recognized that foster the emergence of social norms. The LAC/TPP planning framework can optimize cooperative strategies that enhance wilderness civility. Management by objectives and public participation programs have not been implemented for many Wilderness areas and in any case do not involve all Wilderness users. 257


In many situations, wilderness users must coordinate their behaviors through social interaction. In some circumstances, wilderness users may interact face-to-face, when small groups encounter one another on trails or at camps, or when members of larger groups work at defining a common wilderness meaning. In other circumstances, wilderness users may interact with the evidence of past use, when they see bare ground that results from overuse at popular campsites, when they walk in eroded ruts that serve as a trail, or when they are aware of the subtle evidence of lowimpact camping. Over time, patterns emerge and become established that represent expectations and preferences, providing social cues for determining the appropriateness of particular behaviors in the wilderness.

Wuerthner, G. 1990. Managing the "Bob." Wilderness 53:45-51. AUTHOR

John Heywood School of Natural Resources Ohio State University 2021 Coffey Road Columbus, OH 43210-1085

REFERENCES

Axelrod, R. 1984. The evolution of cooperation. New York City: Basic Books. Hardin, R. 1982. Collective action. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Heywood, J. 1988. Leisure collectives: A theoretical perspective. Leisure Sciences 10:119-30. Lewis, D. 1969. Convention: A philosophical study. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Skyrms, B. 1990. The dynamics of rational deliberation. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Stankey, G., D. Cole, R. Lucas, M. Petersen, and S. Frissell. 1985. The limits of acceptable change (LAC) system for wilderness planning. General Technical Report INT-176. Odgen, Ut.: USFS. Stokes, G. 1990. The evolution of wilderness management: The Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex. Journal ofForestry 88:15-20. Taylor, M. 1987. The possibility of cooperation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 258


THE SOCIAL WILDERNESS IN THE MINDS AND CULTURE OF THE FINNISH PEOPLE VILLE HALLIKAINEN

ABSTRACT The cultural roots of the Finnish wilderness concept lie in the source of livelihood in Finland during the Middle Ages. The use and concept of wilderness is similar in Sweden. In both Finland and Sweden, wilderness is viewed differently than in old European myths. In these myths, wilderness is viewed as a dangerous place. The appreciation of Finnish wilderness started to rise at the end of the 19th century. Since then, wilderness has also had a strong semiotic message for Finnish people. Today, the biggest question lies in deciding how timber harvesting can be combined with a growing public appreciation of wilderness. In 1990, a questionnaire was sent to 2,000 Finnish people to find out how they view Finnish wilderness and how they use and appreciate it. The main results of this study are described in this paper.

THE CULTURAL ROOTS OF THE FINNISH WILDERNESS CONCEPT The cultural roots of the Finnish wilderness concept lie in the source of livelihood in southern and central Finland during the Middle Ages. In the traditional Finnish concept of wilderness, hunting and fishing uses are emphasized. The Finnish word erdmaa (wilderness) literally means "forest-covered hunting and fishing areas with vast peat lands and lakes outside the borders of villages and agricultural areas of nearby villages" (Voionmaa, 1947). At the end of the Middle Ages, fur was expensive. During the special "wilderness hunting period of central and southern Finland," hunting became commercialized (Voionmaa, 1947). So, wilderness areas were not truly wild. Rather they were "the storehouses of the backyard," being impor-

tant economic resources. The government taxed the prey or spoil taken from these areas. Some areas were owned by private hunters, and there were often disagreements about property rights. Two different cultures affected the formation of the Finnish wilderness concept. Hunter-gatherers (Saami people) were pushed to the North, while field farmers in the West and slash-andburn farmers in the East had established their villages. This became the new cultural framework, in which the wilderness concept found its form. As Goffman (1986) has argued, concepts are formed within frameworks. According to this philosophy, a new cultural framework was needed to define the concept of wilderness. Although Goffman's work dealt with micro-sociological settings, it is interesting to note the theoretical connections behind the origin of the wilderness concept. What was a "wild" hunting area outside the homes of Finnish people was home to aborginals like the Saami people (Valkeapfia, 1977). This dual use is also seen in other cultures (Brant, 1982; and Ovington and Fox, 1982). Especially in the past, Saami people had many different places to set up their "homes" in the wilderness. If they were asked where their home was situated, they would maybe answer, as Valkeapaa (1977) did, that it wasn't easy to say because a whole area was their home. Today, Saami people live in houses, and roads connect villages. Until about 30 years ago, many Saami families still lived in remote, roadless villages, especially in northern and eastern Finland, where hunting and fishing were the primary sources of livelihood. The transition from huntergatherer to farmer happened gradually. Although these families mostly lived in one place, they 259


didn't feel a sharp difference between their home and the wilderness surrounding them. Barren, infertile, and remote areas weren't developed for agriculture and remained as wilderness. Other forested areas included the birch forests of the village areas, especially in eastern Finland, and the coniferous forests of the outlying areas. The latter two cultural and semi-cultural deciduous forest areas have been the most appreciated landscapes in Finland for several hundred years. True wilderness was found further from home and was not viewed as a beautiful landscape (Linkola, 1985). But it was important for livelihood. A real Finnish man had to prove himself a skillful hunter and fisherman to survive in the wilderness. He had to at least pick a lot of berries to obtain this status. To merely walk in the wilderness was not understood in the past. COMPARING THE CULTURAL ROOTS OF WILDERNESSES AND THEIR USAGE IN SOME COUNTRIES But are the cultural roots and the usage of wilderness areas alike in Finland, Sweden, and Norway? In the southern part of Sweden, agriculture took its place early. But in the central and northern parts, vast forests and mountains dominated the landscape, where hunting and fishing retained their importance as long as in Finland. Most Swedish forests were colonized by Swedish peasants, even in the northernmost part of the country, Norbotten. Just after colonization, hunting and fishing were important sources of livelihood for Swedish peasants (Dahlgren, 1965). In Norrland, peasants had their own hunting paths like those found in Finland (Lundemark, 1984). As in Finland during the Middle Ages, hide and fur trading played an important economic role in central and northern Sweden (Bjornstad, 1965). The colonization of Swedish forest lands forced the Saami people to move to the fell and mountain areas north ofthe so-called cultivation boundary where they established their villages. These areas had little forest lands and became the hunting and grazing areas ofthe Saami reindeer herds (Cramer, 1965). Although the Saami people had rights to these lands, the state owned the land.

Most fell and mountain areas in Norway were also used and inhabited by Saami people. Fishing and agriculture have been important sources of livelihood in the fjords (Brox, 1965). There has not been the same kind of commercial hunting tradition in Norway as in Sweden and Finland, mainly due to the harsher nature conditions. Although differences in old traditions in wilderness usage between Finland, Sweden, and Norway are found, at least the two first-mentioned countries are quite alike in this regard. Thus, the basis for the wilderness experience in these countries is also quite alike. In old southern and central European myths, wilderness was viewed as a dangerous place. Particularly, evil spirits were often found in European literature about wilderness (Nash, 1982; and Short, 1991). In Finland, Sweden, and Norway, wilderness areas were also viewed as threatening. This view likely stemmed from reality: wild animals were a threat to cattle that grazed in the forests and sometimes to people. Also, the northern climate was so cold that survival was not easy (e.g., Castren, 1872). In Finnish wilderness myths, bears were friendly creatures, much like human beings, and they were treated with respect. After a hunter shot a bear, there was a big celebration in which the bear was glorified (Edsman, 1965). In the United States, wilderness has also been an important cultural asset (Thompson, 1987). The pioneers came into the wilderness and started to change itâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;"to garden" (Short, 1991). Wilderness was a raw material for the human culture. In Finland, although we were settling into wilderness, making fields and pastures, wilderness was used in a sustainable fashion. However, heavy forestry practices have changed this situation. THE RISE OF APPRECIATION OF WILDERNESS IN FINLAND The appreciation of Finnish wilderness started to rise at the end of the 19th century. National feelings about wilderness began to strengthen at that time, with wild areas becoming symbols of 260


people who didn't return the questionnaire were interviewed by telephone. The data was analyzed using mainly cross tabulations with non-parametric tests, correlation procedures, and multivariable methods like MDS and factor analysis. The results of this study have been presented in Finnish (Hallikainen, 1993).

our power, stability, and property. This is evident in a painting by Pekka Halonen called Erdmaa (The Wilderness). Commercial forestry practices also began at this time, threatening wilderness areas. Thus, people began to treat wilderness like artifacts (applying the ideas of Dickie,1971). It became importanttoconsiderthe strong semiotic message of wilderness (Tarasti, 1990).

Over 90 percent of the people who answered the survey thought that it was important to retain wilderness areas. The three most important reasons were: 1) to preserve the endangered species, 2) to retain the areas for future generations, and 3) to conserve the areas for recreation. About halfofthe people wanted to give money for wilderness protection. The average sum was 30 to 70 Fm. Many felt that taxation was a better way to collect money for wilderness protection.

The quick regeneration of our forests in the last 40 years has increased our appreciation wilderness. Duringthe 1960s and 1970s, nature conservationists began to emphasize wilderness values. At the same time, new forms of wilderness recreation quickly developed. Also, conflicts emerged between the importance of timber production and the fast-diminishing area of virgin forests, resulting in the Finnish Wilderness Act's establishment of 12 wilderness areas (Eramaalaki,1991). They lie in northern Finland and are retained in a natural condition.

The survey results demonstrated that peoples' first images of wilderness were of roadless, uninhabited areas covered mainly with virgin forests. Open peat lands were also mentioned often. Other characteristic images included silent areas, lying far away from roads and habitation. These images didn't exclude professional or recreational hunting and/or gathering. It is interesting to note that the responses of people with different backgrounds were astonishingly homogenous.

Today, the idea of wilderness is also important for the growing ecotourism industry. Both Finnish people and other Europeans want to experience our forests and peat lands and the old uses of wilderness. Our official wilderness and nature conservation areas are important for these experiences. Besides these special areas, there are also many smaller areas with certain wilderness characteristics that are used for timber harvesting and other forest management practices.

An interesting feature ofthe survey was that open fell areas were not often mentioned in responses to the question: What do you think of when you hear the term wilderness? Open fell areas in northern Finland are sometimes called wilderness areas. Heberlein (1982) and Hummel (1982) also used this kind of question in their work.

Thus, the main question with this kind of area in Finland today is: How can timber production be practiced to retain the wilderness character of an area to a certain degree? It's important to preserve legal wilderness and nature conservation areas (like national parks), but I think something can also be done to retain at least part of the wilderness feeling in our commercial forests.

According to the results of the survey, wilderness is not an on-off concept. It is rather the continuum. Clear-cutting areas and nurseries do not bring to mind a wilderness at all. Thinned forests with mature Scotch pine or Norway spruce stands carry a lot ofthe wilderness character. The virgin coniferous or coniferous-dominated mixed forests are good indicators of wilderness quality. Open huts and narrow wooden paths crossing peat lands are accepted constructions in wilderness areas. Built camping sites with fireplaces are not so popular.

PRESENT SOCIAL WILDERNESS OF FINNISH PEOPLE: ITS USE AND APPRECIATIONâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;A SURVEY

A questionnaire was sent to 2,000 randomly selected Finnish people in 1990. About 44 percent returned the questionnaire. A sample of the 261


Finnish wilderness areas have traditionally been large and remote. The survey asked: How large should a Finnish wilderness area be when it consists of different kinds of forests? Slightly more than half of the respondents thought that the diameter of an area must be at least eight kilometers. Fourteen percent thought that areas with a diameter of only two kilometers represented wilderness, if the areas were covered with virgin forests. Only a few Finnish people regarded a whole area that has been artificially regenerated and is now composed of young nurseries to be wilderness, even though the area was large and roadless. (See Figure 1.) Over half of the Finnish people who responded to the survey had visited an area they regarded as wilderness. Old traditions of hunting, fishing, and berry-picking were evidently still valued for the prey and spoils these activities provide, especially for those living in the countryside. For urban dwellers, modern activities like backpacking, observing nature and admiring scenery, and sitting by a campfire were important. These experiences, along with enjoying peace and quiet, were also valued by the traditionalists. (See Figure 2.) In comparing the motivations of Finnish wilderness users with wilderness users in the United States (e.g., Manfredo et al., 1983; Stankey and Schreyer, 1987; and Merigliano, 1990), many similarities are found (e.g., experiencing pristine nature, enjoying peace and silence, being together with family or friends, and facing challenges). If solitude means "to be alone or in a little group in a remote, natural place without societal pressures," (applying Hammit, 1982), most of these components are found in a Finnish person's experience of peace and silence in the wilderness. However, I think that the dimensions that Hanimit and Madden (1989) identified in the word privacy are nearer to a Finnish person's experience of peace and silence in the wilderness. It is notable that the experience of freedom is not mentioned in the motivations of Finnish wilderness users. Finnish people are quite social in the wilderness. Maybe one explanation is that Finnish hunters have sometimes formed little groups in their ancient hunting traditions.

CONCLUSIONS The Finnish wilderness has deep cultural roots. Today, most Finnish people live near wilderness areas. These areas have been our friends rather than our enemies. Our cultural concepts of wilderness are evident in our images of wilderness and even in our recreational uses of wilderness areas. Natural landscape is important for the experience of wilderness, but the areas do not have to be unused. If hunting was taken away from the Finnish wilderness culture, for example, then part of the culture would vanish. Humans have always taken trees from wilderness areas to built and warm their cabins. Even light forestry operations are widely accepted. To take these practices away would take part of the culture away. However, I think that virgin forests are also valuable for the wilderness experience, at least in some parts of these areas. Recreational uses of wilderness are constantly increasing in importance. With the growing ecotourism industry, a "real experience industry" is taking its part. How can these modern and experience systems use our cultural origins and uses of wilderness? And, is our idea ofwilderness changing, and in what direction?

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Edsman, C. 1965. The hunter, the games, and the unseen powers: Lappish and Finnish bear rites. In: Hunting and Fishing—Nordic Symposium on Life in a Traditional Hunting and Fishing Milieu in Prehistoric Times and up to the Present Day, ed. H. Hvarfner; trans. D. Burton. Arhus: Chliches Buchtrups, Kliche, and Offsetanstalt.

REFERENCES Bjornstad, M. 1965. Norrland in the younger Iron Age as source of raw materials and as market. In: Hunting and Fishing—Nordic Symposium on Life in a Traditional Hunting and Fishing Milieu in Prehistoric Times and up to the Present Day, ed. H. Hvarfner; trans. D. Burton. Arhus: Chliches Buchtrups, Kliche, and Offsetanstalt.

Eramaalaki.1991. Suomen saadoskokoelma. Laki 62:129-43.

Brant, A. 1982. The wilderness of the American Indian. In: Wilderness, ed. V. Martin. Findhorn, Scotland: Findhorn Press.

Goffman, E. 1986. Frame analysis: An essay on the organization of experience. Boston: Northeastern University Press.

Brox, O. 1965. Social stratification in a north Norwegian fishing community. In: Hunting and Fishing Nordic Symposium on Life in a Traditional Hunting and Fishing Milieu in Prehistoric Times and up to the Present Day, ed. H. Hvarfner; trans. D. Burton. Arhus: Chliches Buchtrups, Kliche, and Offsetanstalt.

Hallikainen, V. 1993. Eramaan kasite ja kokeminen --suomaIaisten eramaamielikuva—eramaiden kaytt6 ja arvostus. Joensuun yliopisto: Lisensiaattitutkielma. (In Finnish.) Hammit, W. 1982. Psychological dimensions and functions of wilderness solitude. In: Proceedings of the Third Annual Conference of the Wilderness Psychology Group, ed. F. Boteler.

Castren, M. 1872. Utsjoen Lappi. In: Annika—Suomennoksia Kauniista Kirjallisuudesta 5. Helsinki: G.W. Edlund. Cramer, T. 1965. Right of the sames to land and water. In: Hunting and Fishing--Nordic Symposium on Life in a Traditional Hunting and Fishing Milieu in Prehistoric Times and up to the Present Day, ed. H. Hvarfner; trans. D. Burton. Arhus: Chliches Buchtrups, Kliche, and Offsetanstalt. Dahlgren, C. 1965. Hunting and fishing in the rationalization of forestry and agriculture. In: Hunting and Fishing—Nordic Symposium on Life in a Traditional Hunting and Fishing Milieu in Prehistoric Times and up to the Present Day, ed. H. Hvarfner; trans. D. Burton. Arhus: Chliches Buchtrups, Kliche, and Offsetanstalt. Dickie, G. 1971. Aesthetics: An introduction. Indianapolis: Pegasus.

—,and M. Madden. 1989. Cognitive dimensions of wilderness privacy: A field test and further explanations. Leisure Sciences 11:293-301. Heberlein, T. 1982. What people mean by wilderness: An exploratory look at word associations. In: Proceedings ofThird Annual Conference of the Wilderness Psychology Group, ed. F. Boteler. Hummel, C. 1982. Definitional perceptions and support for more wilderness. In: Proceedings of Third Annual Conference ofthe Wilderness Psychology Group, ed. F. Boteler. Linkola, M. 1985. Lapin eramaamaiseman arvostuksen syntyminen. Lapin Tutlomusseuran Vuosikirja 26:46-53. (In Finnish.) 265


Lundemark, E. 1984. Skogsbon--Jagaren: Tre etnologiska uppteckningar fran skogslandet. In: Norbotten 1984--Skogland, ed. K. Lundholm. Arsbok: Norbottens Museum. (In Swedish.) Manfredo, M., B. Driver, and P. Brown. 1983. A test of concepts inherent in experience-based setting management for outdoor recreation areas. Journal of Leisure Research 15(3):263-83.

Voionmaa, V. 1947. Hamalainen erakausi. Helsinki: Werner Soderstrom. (In Finnish.) AUTHOR

Ville Hallikainen Rovaniemi Research Station Finnish Forest Research Institute Etelaranta 55, PL-16 96301 Rovaniemi Finland

Merigliano, L. 1990. Indicators to monitor wilderness conditions. In: Proceedings ofthe Conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed. D. Lime. Nash, R. 1982. Wilderness and the American mind. Third edition. Binghampton: Yale University Press. Ovington, J., and A. Fox. 1982. Wilderness--A natural asset. In: Wilderness, ed. V. Martin. Findhorn, Scotland: Findhorn Press. Short, R. 1991. Imagined country: Society, culture, and environment. London: Routledge. Stankey, G., and R. Schreyer. 1987. Attitudes towards wilderness and factors affecting visitor behavior: A state-of-knowledge review. In: Proceedings of the National Wilderness Research Conference on Issues, State-of-Knowledge, and Future Directions (Fort Collins, Colo.), ed. R. Lucas. USFS General Technical Report 1NT-220. Tarasti, E. 1990. Johdatusta semiotiikkaan. Helsinki: Gaudeamus. (In Finnish.) Thompson, F. 1987. Wilderness as living historyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;To be or not to be. Paper presented at the 4th World Wilderness Congress (Estes Park, Colo.) Valkeapaa, N. 1977. Kotini on tunturissa. In: Luonnonkaunis Suomi, ed. P. Kosonen. Helsinki: Valitut Palat. 266


Part 5: Wilderness Education, Values, and Ethics


LEADERSHIP EXCELLENCE FOR MANAGING AMERICA'S WILDERNESS RESOURCES LYLE LAVERTY

Wilderness in the United States is a unique and treasured resource, and its value to the nation continues to grow with each passing decade. While wilderness has long been revered as a setting for spiritual renewal, we are only beginning to understand its value to science and to the perpetuation of a healthy planet. Since the establishment of the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS) in 1964, we have been endowed with a wonderful gift. Today, more than one National Forest acre in six is currently in wilderness. Wilderness offers a means of preserving biodiversity. It is an unparalleled scientific laboratory for studying the natural environment. It is an incomparable setting for developing the human potential. The first wilderness bill was introduced in Congress in 1956. Subsequently, 64 additional wilderness bills were introduced and considered prior to the passage of the Wilderness Act in 1964. The wilderness estate in 1964 consisted of nine million acres and today has grown to encompass 95 million acres in 44 states. But it hasn't been easy. It has been a long road to wilderness designation, with conflicts and trade-offs along the way. An illustration of the difficulties ofgetting wilderness legislation passed through Congress is the Montana Wilderness Bill. Fifteen pieces of legislation were introduced over 15 years. It was the subject of over 50 Congressional Hearings. Testimony was presented by hundreds of individuals and organizations, for a total of 235 hours. Twenty hearing records were printed. And still the legislation has not passed. There are far too many opinions on this subject for everyone to agree completely. What we gain through wilderness designation--wild lands pro-

tect our game, give birth to our rivers, fuel our economies, and restore our souls--can mean a loss oftraditional uses. Timber, industry, mining, and grazing are all affected when lands are allocated to wilderness. Wilderness is where tradition meets the future, and the challenges facing wilderness in the future will be unprecedented. It will take uncommon commitment, passion, and vision to address conflicting needs and manage this wilderness treasure. Growing populations generate demands for more room to spread out and more natural resources to fuel the economy. Growth not only burdens the quality of the environment, but it also fuels the debate over preservation of existing and additional wilderness. The global influence of natural and human induced change such as climatic change, industrial pollution, and catastrophic disasters is even more difficult to assess and control. It requires a high degree of leadership to manage the wilderness estate. Leadership and excellence are powerful words in our society today. They conjure up images of great performances and soaring achievements and people who evoke admiration as well as inspiration. Everyone loves excellence and longs desperately for leadership. Instinctively, most of us follow the leader who can translate vision into a meaningful strategy. People, corporations, agencies, and nations who/ that do not set high standards, or who set them but do not achieve them, will be left behind in the world of accelerating social and technological change. Human history is full of examples of dynamic movement that began to coast on past momentum and declined as a result, first into impressive monuments and finally into distant memories. 268


Leadership excellence is not achieved by accident. What we aim at determines what we will become. While we may not always make our goals, our goals will make us. Therefore, leadership excellence is essential to ensure the enduring nature of wilderness. Today, I would like to share with you three dimensions of leadership excellence for managing wilderness resources in the United States. I will close with what I see as the challenge of leadership excellence. THE ESSENCE OF WILDERNESS LEADERSHIP EXCELLENCE The first dimension is the essence of wilderness leadership excellence. There are several elements or characteristics that reflect the essence of leadership excellence as it relates to managing wilderness resources. Two of the more import are: 1) a gift for communicating a vision with a forward-looking perspective and 2) an ability to inspire a passion for wilderness. The leader's vision is the magnetic north that sets the compass course for the organization. We want to know what the conditions will look like, feel like, and be like when we arrive. We want the future described in rich detail so we will know when we have arrived--so we can select the best route for getting there.

Leopold was so impressed with Carhart's early recommendations that he prepared a wilderness proposal for an area on the Gila National Forest in New Mexico. This later became America's first wilderness area. THE CLIMATE OF LEADERSHIP EXCELLENCE Leadership excellence is infectious. It flourishes in a context where it is modeled, expected, and nurtured. A personal commitment to pursue wilderness leadership excellence is indispensable. There is both a corporate form of excellence and a corporate climate in which leadership excellence is best fostered. The importance of a climate of leadership excellence is widely recognized. Peters and Waterman, in In Search of Excellence, observed the powerful effects of an organization's culture in its employees. These strong cultures not only determine production, they provide motivation. Shared values and goals not only guide organizational policy, but they also provide a community identity to give people a sense of purpose and mission. This has obvious importance for wilderness resources. Organizations are the means through which the enduring nature of wilderness will be maintained. The organization ought, therefore, to be an organization that fosters excellence in its leaders. It must challenge leaders, individually and collectively, to the pursuit of stewardship excellence for America's wilderness resources.

Wilderness roots in the United States are grounded in the thinking of visionaries such as George Catlin, Henry David Thoreau, and John Muir. Arthur Carhart, Aldo Leopold, and Bob Marshall were early wilderness advocates who helped set the Forest Service course. As early as 1919, Arthur Carhart saw the importance of keeping portions of the National Forests undeveloped and as natural as possible. His vision, anchored in strong personal belief, sowed the seeds of the wilderness concept.

Leaders are the catalyst for developing an organizational culture. Leaders inspire individuals to a collective will. Leaders provide the context in which every employee has an awareness of wilderness values, is challenged professionally, and is equipped with the required skills and resources. In this way, an organization is effectively structured to provide the standard of excellence for managing wilderness resources.

The vision of being able to see what others didn't was driven by these leaders' passions for wilderness. Their obsessive pursuit of their ideal and their commitment to effect change transformed vision into action.

Many components are essential to establishing the climate of leadership excellence, but probably the three most important are the concept of leadership development, the responsibility ofleadership, and the acquisition of knowledge. 269


^ derstanding of wilderness values, and recognize THE EVIDENCE OF LEADERSHIP ^ the significant stewardship role of leaders. EXCELLENCE It would be hard to find a better description of a person demonstrating leadership excellence than one who is productive, progressive, visionary, committed, and positive. The evidence of leadership excellence is the product of a commitment to wilderness. A passion for wilderness lies at the heart of wilderness excellence. An itching desire to protect wilderness values is indispensable to the pursuit of wilderness leadership excellence. Leadership excellence is visible through results. There are numerous examples reflecting results of leadership excellence in wilderness management. The Forest Service, acting in a position of leadership, recently founded the Arthur Carhart National Wilderness Training Center and the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute. The U.S. Department of Interior lands management agencies--the Bureau of Land Management, the Fish and Wildlife Service, and the National Park Serviceâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;are active partners in development and implementation of the new programs. The coming together of the Departments of Agriculture and the Interior to forge a new era in research and management of the NWPS is a significant leadership action that will result in tangible outcomes. The closely-aligned programs of the Wilderness Training Center (WTC) and the Wilderness Research Institute (WRI) celebrate a commitment to wilderness management.

The Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute The WRI is an interagency program established to conduct wilderness studies, transfer technology, and cooperate in research efforts with state agencies, universities, and private sector partners. The WRI will focus on obtaining data needed to manage sustained wilderness resources in an ecological and socially sound manner for present and future generations. The WRI will benefit the global community by serving as a model for integrated research and management to advance understanding of the social, cultural, and ecological significance of wilderness and wild lands. The knowledge and experiences gained through the WRI will guide management in a manner responsive to the societal needs and to the special roles that wilderness resources serve in the ecology, economy, and social fabric of the United States and the global environment. The alliance between the two programs demonstrates that the best and most efficient way to act as stewards of the NWPS is to integrate research and management efforts across agency and organizational boundaries. User Ethics and Training

The Arthur Carhart National Wilderness Training Center

Other results of leadership excellence is realized through fostering user ethics and providing training and education.

The WTC fosters interagency excellence in wilderness stewardship by developing skilled wilderness managers. The Training Center coordinates with leaders and managers to identify wilderness training needs and develop training programs. Developing future leaders is accomplished through a variety of educational experiences. One program component is focused on executive leadership. The WTC hosts a fieldoriented week-long session designed to create a personal awareness of wilderness, instill an un-

Recreation use of America's wild lands soared in the 1970s and has since maintained an upward trend. Sadly, so have the signs of user impacts-scars of campfires, latrines, impacted campsites, and refuse are common sights in once pristine areas. In order to maintain the beauty and ecological health ofAmerica's wild lands without dramatically limiting access or regulating behavior, recreational users must become knowledgeable oftheir impact on the land and knowledgeable about how to reduce it. 270


Colorado State University, and the International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation.

The Leave No Trace program is providing this knowledge through apartnership of six federal land management agencies (Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management, Fish and Wildlife Service, National Park Service, and Bureau of Reclamation) and the National Outdoor Leadership School.

The course is designed to meet a broad range of needs for employees in the field of natural resources and wilderness planning and management. In addition, others involved or interested in outdoor recreation, wilderness, and resource management, will benefit.

Leave No Trace is a national educational program whose mission is to educate wild land user groups, federal agency managers, and the public about minimum-impact camping. The major principles of the program include:

Taken together, the WTC, WRI, and a focus on user ethics and training reflect a coordinated, strategic approach to interagency management of the NWPS.

• backcountry trip planning and preparation;

THE CHALLENGE OF LEADERSHIP EXCELLENCE

• concentrating impacts in high-use sights

The domain of wilderness leaders is the future. Leadership excellence will create a legacy that will be valued by future generations. John Hendee, George Stankey, and Robert Lucas stated in Wilderness Management that the nature of the future rests largely on what happens today.

• spreading out use and impact in pristine areas; • avoiding places where impact is just beginning;

The challenge for today's leaders is to set high standards for quality management of existing wilderness, create a climate that facilitates excellence and nurtures future leaders who will voice, with passion, the need to protect the wilderness treasure for today and for the generations to come.

• packing it in, packing it out; • properly disposing of what you can not pack out; • leaving natural objects where you find them; and • campfire building in the backcountry. Several brochures and a video are available to assist in educating the public. The National Outdoor Leadership School has also developed a week-long training program called the Masters Of Leave No Trace to train individuals to become master trainers.

AUTHOR Lyle Laverty Recreation, Cultural Resources, and Wilderness Management USDA Forest Service Washington, DC 20250

Another training tool is the Wilderness Management Correspondence Course offered through Colorado State University. This intensive course of study is a partnership effort between the Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management, National Park Service, Fish and Wildlife Service, 271


WILDERNESS MANAGEMENT BY MAIL: A HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL TRAINING COURSE APPLICABLE TO WILDLAND MANAGERS WORLDWIDE DAVID PORTER KEITH CORRIGALL Receive wilderness management training without leaving the comforts of your home or office. Sound impossible or even ridiculous, considering the resource you are responsible for protecting and maintaining? Well, in some ways it is a silly notion, but a successful new training course for wilderness managers, both in the United States and worldwide, is helping people develop a wilderness ethic and improve their wilderness management skills, without them ever leaving their home or office. A correspondence study course entitled Wilderness Management, offered through Colorado State University (CSU), and developed by the four federal wilderness management agencies in the United States, is now available to Englishspeaking audiences worldwide. This unique training opportunity has been available to U.S. wilderness managers for three years and has already received numerous awards and much praise from past students. Over 600 enrollments in the course have been recorded to date. Administrators of the course are now attempting to enlarge the scope of the audience by extensively advertising its availability to the international audience outside the United States.

MEETING THE NEEDS OF TRAINING New tools, rapidly changing policies, programs, and management techniques, and increased pressures on wilderness and wildland resources, have increased the importance of providing employee training. Yet how do we meet this need in a time of declining training budgets, loss of experienced personnel, and fewer travel dollars? In 1988, the four federal agencies responsible for managing the wilderness system in the United States teamed up in a partnership arrangement

with CSU to face this dilemma by implementing the Wilderness Management Correspondence Study Course. All four agencies, the USDI Bureau of Land Management, USDA Forest Service, USDI National Park Service, and USDI Fish and Wildlife Service, manage wilderness under the same mandates of the Wilderness Act of 1964 and needed a consistent and cost-effective way to provide training. The purpose of the training course is to maintain the competency of agency personnel at all levels. A wide array of education delivery systems was considered to ensure that the approach selected would be cost-efficient, effective for all those involved with wilderness management, capable of reaching a large, geographically dispersed audience, and would provide consistency of information. Several systems were considered and correspondence study was determined the most logical and efficient method to use.

CONTENT AND STRUCTURE OF THE COURSE Six individual courses, covering most wilderness aspects, were developed. The two major objectives of the entire course series are to form a wilderness ethic and provide students with basic wilderness management skills. Correspondence study cannot possibly provide all the necessary tools a wilderness manager needs in a management toolbox, but it can provide some basic, fundamental knowledge and building blocks to help maintain professional proficiency, at a reasonable cost.

Courses Offered Wilderness Philosophy and Development of a Wilderness Ethic. Discusses the philosophical origin of the wilderness concept and the themes and values wilderness provides. It also looks at 272


the history of wilderness and the conservation movement in America, as well as wilderness in the international context. Managing wilderness as a distinct resource and non-recreational benefits of wilderness are also discussed. National Wilderness Preservation System and Related Areas. The early history and key com-

ponents of wilderness legislation since 1964, related natural systems, and the similarities and differences in agency mandates and policies are studied. Management of the Wilderness Resource. Eco-

system characteristics and basic principles of wilderness management are studied. Separate chapters discuss management of specific wilderness resources (such as fire, wildlife, and culture); management of nonconforming uses (such as grazing, mineral extraction, and motorized and mechanical uses); and geographical information systems. Management of Wilderness Recreation Resources. Explores and discusses how to manage

for quality visitor experiences, including examples of common problems and solutions. Managing to minimize recreational impacts is covered in detail in a separate chapter. Other chapters include wilderness education and information techniques, as well as a discussion on how to deal with emergencies and law enforcement actions. Wilderness Management Planning. Differences

in planning among the four agencies are presented and discussed. Basic concepts, a format for writing a management plan, and how to implement a plan are explored. A special discussion of the Limits of Acceptable Change planning system is presented. Wilderness Management Skills and the Future of Wilderness. The use of primitive means

to achieve management objectives, use of the minimum tool, and no-trace camping methods are discussed. How to recruit, supervise, train, and effectively use volunteers to enhance your wilderness program are presented. This course

will also answer the questions: What does the future hold? How can I become a better wilderness management professional? For more details of the content of each course, write to the address at the end of this paper to obtain a course brochure. These courses are designed to meet a broad range of needs for employees in the fields of natural resources and wilderness planning and management. Professional wilderness and wildland managers and technicians at all levels, as well as others involved or interested in outdoor recreation, wilderness and wildlands, and resource management will benefit. These courses are designed to provide basic skills needed to properly manage wilderness and wildland resources. "Wilderness Management" is an accredited correspondence study course series consisting of six closely related but separate courses. Students in the United States and worldwide will find that academic credits earned for the courses may be applied towards degree requirements from most colleges and universities. Besides required textbook readings, a study guide is provided for each course. Written in an easyto-follow format, the study guide contains instructional chapters that detail course objectives, identify required and optional reading assignments, and provide course material. Review questions follow each chapter, which the student must complete and submit to the university. Upon submittal, the review question answers are returned to the student with the review question answer key to use for study purposes prior to taking the final exam. Courses are offered on an open enrollment option, meaning a student can enroll at anytime during the year. Once registered, a student has six months to complete the course. Further details on registration is available in the course brochure (which can be obtained by writing to the address listed at the end of this paper).


DEVELOPING A WILDERNESS OR WILDLAND ETHIC As was mentioned in the introduction, development of a wilderness or wildland ethic is one of the primary purposes of wilderness management. A wilderness ethic helps to provide a moral foundation for a wilderness manager's attitude and behavior regarding wilderness and humankind's relationship with wilderness. It is the principled thinking behind formal wilderness management principles. It is critical for wilderness managers to understand what defines wilderness and why and how it is unique from other types of lands. Without an adequate understanding of the special nature of wildlands, recommended and mandated management practices may seem inadequate, untimely, or even incorrect when compared with practices commonly used by managers outside of wilderness. These courses attempt to show the student that behind wilderness management practices are values that are in some sense wider than those usually employed in managing natural resources on other types of lands. These values are what make wilderness and wildlands unique. Without a thorough understanding of the unique benefits and values held in wilderness, managers may have a difficult time convincing themselves, fellow resource managers, or the public that actions being taken are the right ones. As students learn the values that are introduced in "Wilderness Management," they may test them in the real worlâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;internally and with others. Once acquired, a wilderness ethic provides wilderness managers with a foundation that directs a commitment to act. They will apply their understanding of the values inherent in wilderness to management situations. As with any ethic, however, it is only useful if it guides people towards the right actions. The right actions in wilderness management are those that preserve and protect the wilderness resource. "Wilderness Management" attempts to teach the manager these actions.

INTERNATIONAL APPLICATION Although Wilderness Management was originally developed to train U.S. managers, its basic content is much more universal in scope and applicability. Other jurisdictions around the world may have taken or may be taking a different path to wilderness or wildland protection, but the overall benefits and values of the lands under their protection are similar. The wildland manager, whether in Canada, South Africa, Australia, or New Zealand, still needs the basic understanding and wildland ethic development that wilderness managers in the United States need. Wilderness Management can help develop this ethic and understanding. The concepts and ideas presented in "Wilderness Management" have a great deal of merit for anyone working in or for protected areas. International students already enrolled in some of the courses have found the content to be both applicable and beneficial to them as they deal with similar management issues and problems in their areas. The general philosophy and values behind the reasons for protecting and managing wildland areas are universal in scope. Impacts and management concerns, ecological processes, and human and resource needs and impacts are similar in many parts of the world. These courses are designed in a format that easily leads a wildland manager, regardless of geographic location, through their content. Authors ofthe courses are internationally known for their experiences and expertise in the fields of wilderness and wildland management and ethic development. Students from any country will find adequate information in the courses that can be applied to their job situations, no matter where that position may be located.

INTERNATIONAL SCHOLARSHIPS AVAILABLE In order to introduce more wildland managers from countries other than the United States to "Wilderness Management", and to spread the news ofthe applicability of its content, a scholar-

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ship program has been developed. Scholarships are available on a limited basis, but hopefully word will spread about the usefulness of the course, and then the number of scholarships given can be increased. Scholarships cover tuition, fee, book, and mailing costs. Scholarship support is made possible through generous donations from CSU Department of Recreation Resources and Division of Continuing Education, The International Wilderness Leadership (WILD) Foundation, and San Juan National Forest Association. Selection of scholarship recipients will be determined after reviewing all applications submitted. Applications are due no later than 1 December of each year for the following year. Any individual living outside the United States involved in wilderness or wildland management may apply. For more information about the scholarships or the course, contact: Wilderness Management Correspondence Study Course Department of Recreation Resources Colorado State University Fort Collins, CO 80523 USA Don't miss this unique and valuable opportunity to become a better wilderness management professional, regardless of where you live or work. AUTHORS

David Porter Colorado State Office USDI Bureau of Land Management Lakewood, CO 80215-7076 Keith Corrigall Branch of Wilderness Resources USDI Bureau of Land Management Washington, DC 20240

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WILDERNESS EDUCATION IN THE UNITED STATES: DO WE TEACH LOW-IMPACT KNOWLEDGE, BEHAVIOR, OR A WILDERNESS ETHIC? JOSEPH PASSINEAU JOSEPH ROGGENBUCK CHRISTOPHER STUBBS

INTRODUCTION The National Wilderness Preservation System in the United States now contains about 100 million acres managed by the USDA Forest Service (USFS), USDI National Park Service (NPS), USDI Fish and Wildlife Service, and USDI Bureau of Land Management. Recreation is by far the most popular and common use of wilderness and totalled more than 16 million visitor days and five million actual visits in 1985 (Hendee et al., 1990). While such recreational visits provide an array of individual and social benefits (Driver et al., 1990), such activities inevitably impact the vegetation, soil, water, wildlife, and experiences of other users (Cole, 1986). Much of the damage is due to inappropriate behavior, representing the uninformed, unskilled, careless, or illegal actions of the visiting public (Hendee et al., 1990). Wilderness managers, social scientists, and recreationists have all endorsed education as the preferred strategy to reduce social and physical/ biological impacts of users on the wilderness. Education is preferred over law enforcement for both practical and philosophical reasons. At the practical level, public funds simply are not available to provide protective law enforcement. At a more philosophical level, wilderness, by its definition in the American cultural context, connotes freedom of time, movement, and behavior. What is needed is an educated citizenry that has the knowledge, commitment, and skill to act freely and responsibly to enjoy and protect the wilderness. While it is important to educate the recreationist who uses the wilderness directly, it is also important to educate the citizenry as a whole. Even if they never visit a wilderness area, citizens can greatly influence the integrity of the wilderness

system through political choices that affect legislative, fiscal, and agency support of wilderness. In addition, the many economic, consumer, and lifestyle choices made each day has important environmental consequences, and in turn, important indirect and long-term impacts on the wilderness. From this perspective, we must not only educate the wilderness recreationist to minimize their direct impact, we must also reach beyond the forest to nurture an educated citizenryâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a citizenry that recognizes the ecological and cultural value of wilderness, is aware of the direct and indirect impacts of human action on the wilderness and the environment in general, and is motivated to act so as to preserve and foster our wilderness heritage. In this paper, we explore the question: Do we teach low-impact knowledge, behavior, or a wilderness ethic? We will review agency programs aimed at wilderness users and summarize a recent study designed to increase knowledge and modify behavior of recreationists within the wilderness setting. In the end, we recognize the limitations of these efforts and see a need for a larger and more holistic approach to teaching a wilderness ethic by reaching beyond the forest.

CURRENT AGENCY-RELATED WILDERNESS EDUCATION PROGRAMS Natural resource management agencies like the USFS and NPS have adopted a host of educational programs to teach low-impact behavior in the wilderness. Many wilderness areas have permanent, seasonal, or volunteer educational rangers. The USFS (1989; and 1991) recently released catalogues entitled, "Ideas for Wilderness Information and Education," that include samples of programs, posters, brochures, books, and other educational materials for use by their 276


resource management staff. The Tonto National 3. Can wilderness recreationists sort out the confusion and keep Forest in Arizona recently developed "The Imabreast of the latest recommended pact Monster Skit," which entertains and inlow-impact practices? For example, volves youth in schools in identifying minimal such traditionally recommended impact wilderness techniques (Hanson, 1990). low-impact behaviors as dispersing The USFS Intermountain Research Station also use or camping in a forest rather recently published an evaluation and guide to 25 than a meadow are now generally different media-based and personnel-based wil(but not always) believed to inderness education techniques (Doucette and Cole, crease rather than decrease impact 1993). to the wilderness (Cole, 1989). LIMITATIONS OF CURRENT EDUCATIONAL PROGRAMS AIMED AT WILDERNESS USERS

4. Is it practically and conceptually impossible and inappropriate to expect success in wilderness management and protection by teaching specific low-impact behaviors? What instead appears to be needed is to educate current and potential wilderness visitors about the functions and processes of natural ecosystems and to develop general respect for wilderness environments. This will empower people on their own to process the often complex and ambiguous information of wilderness settings to make the right decision most of the time.

Despite the convictions of resource managers that education increases low-impact knowledge, develops support for wilderness values and management, and improves behavior, wilderness management problems continue to increase (Marion et al., 1993). As a result, doubts about the effectiveness of education linger.^These doubts can be summarized in five critical questions: 1. Is it reasonable to expect wilderness visitors to learn and adopt appropriate behavior in wilderness? Dustin (1985) noted that the nature of humans is to act in self-interest and for short-term gain. Both characteristics tend to negate the effectiveness of wilderness education and suggest that rules, regulations, coercion, and law enforcement are needed.

5. Do current wilderness education programs teach a land ethic, an ethic of respect and appropriate behavior regarding nature? This is likely the most critical question. Research has shown that wilderness education can increase low-impact knowledge (e.g., Dowell and McCool, 1986) and redistribute wilderness use within or across wilderness areas (e.g., Roggenbuck and Berner, 1982). We have little or no evidence, however, that these agency programs develop a foundation for sound judgment regarding appropriate behavior about wilderness or foster a permanent value system of respect for the environment (i.e., create a wilderness ethic).

2. Do the U.S. resource management agency personnel and media-based educational efforts reach enough people or the right people? Most current wilderness users do not come in contact with wilderness rangers or low-impact educational media. Those who do probably seek them out on their own accord and already have considerable respect for wilderness and knowledge of appropriate behavior. 277


use, and disposal of water and body wastes. Behavioral intentions, focusing on the selection of an appropriate spot to camp, were measured by showing campers four different color sketches, each showing the same campsites but displaying an increasing degree of recreational impact. Each camper was asked to select the picture depicting the site they would: 1) most like to camp, 2) choose to minimize their impact in a heavily used zone, and 3) choose to minimize their impact in a lightly used zone. Based on recent recommendations for reducing impacts on heavily used wilderness areas like Shining Rock, the most appropriate camping behavior is to contain the area of impact by camping in an existing moderately impacted site (in contrast to a pristine, lightly impacted, or severely impacted site) (Cole and Benedict, 1983).

THE SHINING ROCK WILDERNESS STUDY: TESTING A WILDERNESS EDUCATION EFFORT To address some of the concerns about wilderness education stated above, we recently completed a research project at the Shining Rock Wilderness in the Pisgah National Forest of western North Carolina. More specifically, we conducted a field study to: 1) assess wilderness visitor knowledge of low-impact practices, especially those only recently recommended and which require situation-specific and complex judgments by visitors; 2) determine whether trailhead posters increased knowledge of recent and complex low-impact behavior recommendations (i.e., knowledge of campfire impacts, campsite selection criteria, and tent location within the campsite); 3) determine whether low-impact knowledge shaped behavioral intentions or actual low-impact behavior in the wilderness; and 4) assess the long-term versus short-term gains in knowledge due to the trailhead posters.

Actual behavior was unobtrusively measured by observing: a) the actual campsite (campsites were previously classified into four impact classes), b) location of tent relative to the impacted area (should be in the area most cleared of vegetation to contain impacted area), and c) evidence of a campfire (low-impact behavior, according to recent guidelines is to have no campfire).

The Shining Rock Wilderness, located in the southern Appalachian Mountains, is one of only four eastern U.S. wilderness areas designated by the 1964 Wilderness Act. Although originally farmed and logged in the 1800s, it has now returned, through conservation efforts, to deciduous forest with some grassy scenic views that become focal points for wilderness hikers and campers. Shining Rock is one of the most heavily visited areas in the entire national wilderness system, with 55,072 visitor days in 1990.

The posters (the study's treatment) were placed on trailhead signs on half of the days of the study. This schedule in effect created a control group consisting of visitors to the area who were not subjected to the posters. The posters illustrated proper campsite conditions, proper tent placement, and reasons to use a stove instead of a campfire. On treatment days, all measures were taken after the subjects observed the posters. While some campers completed the tests within five minutes of seeing the posters, others took the tests up to five days after leaving the area. This permitted a measure of short- and long-term learning.

Methods To assess visitors' initial knowledge as well as the effectiveness of trailhead posters, we contacted a sample of 244 campers at trailheads during the Summer and Autumn of 1990. Some campers were contacted as they entered the area, others as they left. Campers completed a 10-item, multiple-choice, low-impact knowledge test, based on Cole's (1989) "Low-Impact Recreational Practices for Wilderness and Backcountry," covering appropriate trail use, campsite selection, campsite behavior, campfire

Findings The study was helpful in documenting the initial level of wilderness users' knowledge and behavioral intentions regarding low-impact practices 278


and in assessing the limited effectiveness of trailhead posters as an educational tool. On arrival, Shining Rock Wilderness campers had relatively little knowledge of acceptable lowimpact practices, scoring an average of 60 percent on the tests. On items dealing with recently recommended practices (e.g., campsite selection), the average was even lower (33 percent). Only 16 percent knew of the seriousness of campfire impacts. On the five knowledge items covering the poster contents (e.g., campsite selection, tent placement, and stove versus campfire use), the educational treatment subjects scored no higher on these items on the whole than did control individuals. However, on the test items dealing with proper campsite selection (e.g. ,not near stream, in view of trail, or on fragile vegetation), the treatment group scored significantly higher (46 percent) than the control (31 percent). The educational posters did not, however, help campers make correct situation-specific judgements when specifying the proper place to camp based on the impact-condition classes ofpotential campsites. The knowledge scores indicted some evidence of learning decay across time (63 percent for the entering group and 58 percent for those departing; significant atp = .09). A highly significant difference occurred, however, on items dealing with proper tent placement (84 percent for entering versus 68 percent for departing) and the selection of a campsite (53 percent versus 36 percent). Knowledge of the proper spot to camp in the wilderness was related to behavioral intentions to camp in the appropriate place. Unfortunately, answers to both knowledge and behavioral intention items were largely incorrect when making site-selection decisions based on light-use and heavy-use conditions. While the posters did not improve situation-specific behavior intentions, they did improve (as with knowledge) behavior intention regarding general camp spot selection (40 percent treatment versus 18 percent control). On the unobtrusive measure of actual camping behavior, the educational poster did not improve

selection of appropriate campsites nor the placement of tents to reduce impacts. In contrast, the educational posters appeared to significantly reduce the number of campfires (34 percent of control had a campfire versus 18 percent of the treatment).

In conclusion, while we realize that our study represents only one look at the effectiveness ofan education program within wilderness, we are not optimistic about the success of individual, sitespecific, and behavior-specific programs. This is especially the case if resource managers seek to enable and empower existing and potential wilderness users to make correct low-impactjudgments in situation-specific cases and where the environmental and managerial cues for proper behavior are ambiguous or complex (a situation which we believe is common to wilderness settings). In these situations, we believe that resource managers can only succeed if they reach beyond theforest and nest wilderness education within a larger and more holistic approach to teaching a wilderness ethicâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;an approach recently described by Passineau (1990). TEACHING A WILDERNESS ETHIC

As noted in the introduction, there is a great need for a citizenry that has the knowledge, skills, and commitment necessary to protect our wilderness legacy. Clearly, there is a need to look beyond the forest as we seek to nurture a true wilderness ethic. But how does one teach awildemess ethic? In general, we believe that the development ofa wilderness ethic is dependent upon the development of a more global environmental ethic. In addition, we believe that wilderness education should be viewed as acomponentofenvironmental education that attempts to develop knowledge, attitudes, skills, and behaviors that through individual and collective action, lead to the preservation of wilderness. While a wilderness etiquette, focusing minimal-impact wilderness use, is essential to keep wilderness users from destroying the wilderness places they love (Hampton and Cole, 1988), farmore is involved in creating atrue wilderness ethic.

279


3. Attitudes - Promote values and feelings of environmental concern and the motivation to actively participate. 4. Skills - Develop abilities to identify and solve environmental problems as individuals or groups.

A wilderness ethic must also include the spiritual and philosophical aspects of wilderness and the relationship ofhumans andnature (Martin, 1988). Citizen knowledge of ecological principles and environmental issues and participation in strategies of environmental action such as eco-management, persuasion, and economic, political, and legal activity are essential if wilderness is to be protected at home, in the economic market place, and in government (Hungerford et al., 1980; and Regnier, 1987). These are the domain of environmental education. To build the case that teaching a wilderness ethic requires effective and broadreaching environmental education efforts, both formal and informal, it is important to briefly consider the origins, definition, and goals of environmental education.

5. Participation - Provide opportunities to work towards solutions.

GOALS AND OBJECTIVES OF ENVIRONMENTAL EDUCATION Building upon the earlier movements of nature study, conservation education, and outdoor education, environmental education first emerged as a distinct field during the so-called environmental decade of the 1970s. Rooted in avenues of problem-solving, environmental education sought to develop a citizenry that was knowledgeable about the natural and human environment and its associated problems, aware of skills with which to solve these problems, and motivated to participate in their solutions (Engleson, 1985). Since then, the overall goal of environmental education has remained basically the same: to foster environmental quality by using education to change individual and collective behavior. At the first international conference on environmental education, held in Tbilisi, USSR, in 1977, the following goals were adopted (Engleson, 1985): Environmental Awareness - Develop an awareness and sensitivity to the total environment.

From this perspective, environmental education is seen as a life-long, interdisciplinary and multifaceted process, encompassing many topics, audiences, and approaches. To be effective, wilderness education must likewise become more comprehensive. Based on these goals, wilderness education must also: a) examine environmental and wilderness issues and solutions from local, national, and international points of view, b) recognize the complexity of environmental and wilderness problems and the need for critical thinking and problem-solving skills, c) help learners plan their learning experiences, make decisions, and accept consequences, and d) utilize diverse learning environments and approaches emphasizing first-hand experiences, includingthe opportunity to develop persuasive, political, economic, legal, and eco-management action skills. EDUCATIONAL APPROACHES THAT REACH BEYOND THE FOREST To effectively reach beyond the forest in teaching about wilderness, a broad array of educational approaches should be considered, including formal classroom curricula, informal adult programs, nature center programs, television, youth organizations, environmental education centers, and residential camp programs. The following may be useful approaches to wilderness education: 1. Resource agencies and their staff can inform and educate audiences directly through interpretive talks, teacher contacts, presentations to clubs, youth organizations and schools or indirectly through

2. Knowledge - Foster an understanding of the environment and its associated problems. 280


agencies, organizations, and schools). Much can be gained by adopting and/or adapting these materials and programs to fit specific situations. A need still exists, however, for comprehensive educational packets focusing on wilderness. Useful examples include educational materials produced by the Wilderness Society and the module focusing on the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex developed by the Wilderness Institute at the University of Montana (Wall, 1986), which includes background materials, classroom and field trip activities, visual aids, and resource lists.

brochures, audio and video programs, displays, and news releases. U.S. Forest Service wilderness education programs and material mentioned earlier can be adopted to reach these wider audiences. Again, it is important to recognize the difference between developing a wilderness etiquette for use in wilderness and developing a wilderness ethic that also involves citizen action outside the wilderness. Resource agencies should reach beyond their visitors to the public at large. 2. Wilderness experiential and adventure education programs, such as the National Outdoor Leadership School and Outward Bound, also encompass environmental awareness goals in their leadership development efforts (Martin, 1988). Also see Hendee and Brown (1988) for a thought-provoking model of how wilderness experience programs facilitate personal growth.

In summary, to optimize our efforts in wilderness education, it is necessary to develop an educational plan; to adopt, adapt, and create educational materials and programs; and to cooperate and work effectively with others. CONCLUSION

Henry David Thoreau's visionary insight offers a great challenge to present-day disciples of the wilderness: In wildness is the preservation of the world (Bode, 1975). As professionals working for resource agencies and as concerned citizens of an increasingly troubled planet, we are also challonged by the words of other visionaries such as JohnMuir,AldoLeopold, Rachel Carson, Sigurd Olson, and Bob Marshall. Each ofthese prophets looked within themselves and beyond themselves for inspiration and guidance. We, too, need to discover, each in our own way, our oneness with the Earth. By exploring the pathways of childhood, we can rediscover our own sense of wonder For nature and begin to share our love for the Earth and its wilderness with others (Herman et

3. Environmental education and nature centers and camps can also reach large audiences, including individuals who may know nothing about wilderness and not recognize the importance of wilderness preservation. These programs can be instrumental in sparking a sense of wonder for nature and wildlands and give youth the experiences needed to develop wilderness skills and ethics. Centers and camps can also encourage wilderness issue analysis through in-depth lessons, field trips, and forums.

al., 1991). 4. Some educational materials already

incorporate wilderness-related topics and activities (such as those of Project Learning Tree and Project Wild and those available through

Individually and collectively, we can reach beyc nd the forest to help foster in ohs a deeper appreciation for wildlands. To develop a more effective strategy for wilderness education, the 281


wider perspective of environmental education should be adopted. In this way, wilderness education will become more holistic, multi-disciplinary, and action-oriented. This will lead to the development of an effective and compassionate citizenry skilled in the use of persuasive, economic, political, legal, and eco-management strategies for protecting wilderness. The challenges are immense, the opportunities unlimited. After all, in wildness is the preservation of the world (Bode, 1975). REFERENCES Bode, C. 1977. The portable Thoreau. Penguin Books. Cole, D. 1986. Resource impacts caused by recreation. In: A literature review: The President's Commission on Americans Outdoors. —. 1989. Low-impact recreational practices for wildernessandbackcountry. Ogden: USFS General Technical Report INT-265. —., and J. Benedict. 1983. Wilderness campsite selection—What should users be told? Park Science 3(4):5-7. Doucette, J., and D. Cole. 1993. Wilderness visitor education: Information about alternative techniques. Ogden: USFS General Technical Report INT-295. Dowell, D., and S. McCool. 1986. Evaluation of a wilderness information dissemination program. In: Proceedings of the National Wilderness Research Conference—Current Research (Fort Collins, Colo.), comp. R. Lucas. Ogden: USFS General Technical Report 1NT-212. Driver, B., A. Easley, and J. Passineau. 1990. Introductory comments on the benefits of wilderness. In: Proceedings ofthe symposium on The Use of Wilderness for Personal Growth, Therapy, and Education-4th World Wilderness Congress (Estes Park, Colo.), comps A. Easley, J. Passineau, and B. Driver. USFS General Technical Report RM-193.

Dustin, D. 1985. Managing human behavior in outdoor recreation settings: The ultimate answer. In: The management of human behavior in outdoor recreation settings, ed. D. Dustin. San Diego: Institute for Leisure Behavior, San Diego State University. Engleson, D. 1985. A guide to curriculum planning in environmental education. Madison: Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction. Hampton, B., and D. Cole. 1988. Soft paths. Harrisburg: Stackpole Books. Hanson, G. 1990. Education, the key to preservation. In: Proceedings of the conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed. D. Lime. St Paul: Minnesota Agricultural Experiment Station. Hendee, J., and M. Brown. 1988. How wilderness facilitates personal growth. In: For the conservation of Earth, ed. V. Martin. Golden, Colo.: Fulcrum Publishing. —., G. Stankey, and R. Lucas. 1990. Wilderness management. Second edition, revised. Golden, Colo: North American Press. Herman, M., J. Passineau, A. Schimpf, and P. Treuer. 1991. Teaching kids to love the Earth: Sharing a sense of wonder. Duluth: Pfeifer-Hamilton Publishers. Hungerford, H., B. Peyton, A.' Tomera, R. Litherland, J. Ramsey, and T. Volk. 1980. Investigating and evaluating environmental issues and actions skills development modules. Champaign: Stipes Publishing. Marion, J., J. Roggenbuck, and R. Manning. 1993. Problems and practices in backcountry recreation management: A surveyofNational Park Service managers. Blacksburg: NPS Natural Resources Report NPS/ NRVTINRR-93/12. Martin, V., ed. 1988. For the conservation of Earth: Selected proceedings of the 4th World Wilderness Congress. Golden, Colo.: Fulcrum Publishing. 282


Passineau, J. 1990. Teaching a wilderness ethic: Reaching beyond the forest. In: Proceedings of the conference on Managing America's Enduring Wilderness Resource (Minneapolis), ed. D. Lime. St Paul: Minnesota Agricultural Experiment Station. Regnier, P. 1987. Goals for wilderness education. Unpublished M.S. thesis. Roggenbuck, J., and D. Berrier. 1982. A comparison of the effectiveness of two communication strategies in dispersing wilderness campers. Journal of Leisure Research 14(1):77-89. USDA Forest Service. 1989. Ideas forwilderness information and education. Washington: USFS Recreation Staff. â&#x20AC;˘ 1991. Ideas for wilderness information and education, book 2. Washington: USFS Recreation Staff. Wall, K. 1986. Wilderness management issues: National resources and environmental education demonstration project. Presented at North American Association for Environmental Education conference (Troy, Ohio). AUTHORS Joseph Passineau Central Wisconsin Environmental Station College of Natural Resources University of Wisconsin Stevens Point, WI 54481 Joseph Roggenbuck Department of Forestry Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University Blacksburg, VA 24061-0324 Christopher Stubbs USDI Bureau of Land Management Battle Mountain, NV 89620

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WOMEN'S INVOLVEMENT INADVENTURE ACTIVITIES NORMAN MCINTYRE JACKIE KIEWA JOSEPHINE BURDEN

Traditionally, outdoor adventure recreation activities such as rock climbing, white water canoeing, kayaking, and rafting, and mountaineering have been dominated by male participants. Consequently, most previous studies of adventure have been characterised by a predominance of male respondents (Ewert, 1986; McIntyre, 1989; and Robinson, 1992). The result of this dominance is that our current understanding of outdoor adventure derives mainly from a male perspective. As participation in these types of activities increases (EwertandHollenhorst, 1989), larger numbers of women are becoming actively involved. There are indications, however, that women's experience of adventure and reasons for participating in adventure activities may be different from their male counterparts (Warren, 1985). In addition, various authors have pointed to economic, social, and structural barriers to women's participation in leisure activities, in general (Henderson and Stalnaker, 1988; and Wearing, 1991), and adventure activities, in particular (Warren, 1985). There is aneed to explore the adventure experience from the women's perspective and a need to enhance the general understanding of adventure activity participation to recognise and address the various barriers that constrain participation for women and provide equitable access to the personal benefits of competence, self-efficacy, and skill development that arise from participation in such activities (Csikzentmihalvi.1975; Mitchell, 1983; and Dustin et al., 1986). The study on which this paper is based was undertaken as part of an ongoing research programme examining women's experience of outdoor adventure recreation at Griffith University. The first stage ofthe study set out to describe the women who participated in three outdoor adventure activities (rock climbing, kayaking, and SCUBA diving) in terms of their backgrounds, reasons for participation, level of in-

volvement and skill, with whom they participated, and where they undertook the activities. In addition, a number of open-ended questions sought explanations for breaks in participation that extended beyond 12 months. This paper provides a broad overview of the study and characteristics of the participants. It reports on the women's reasons for participation and also seeks support for Ewert and Hollenhorst's Adventure Model (1989).

DATA COLLECTION A total of 450 questionnaires were distributed by mail to women who were currently involved or had been involved in rock climbing and/orkayaking and/or SCUBA diving. The return of 391 useable surveys represented a response rate of 86 percent. The high response rate was largely attributable to the snowballing process that was used to gather prospective respondents. An initial core of female participants in each of the three activities was contacted and asked to give the names of others they knew to be involved in one or more of the adventure activities under study. Each of the individuals nominated was then contacted directly and requested to participate in the survey. Subsequently, the standard Dillman (1978) technique involving three mailings was used for all those women who agreed to take part in the study. An additional factor that might have accounted for the high response rate was that the main contact person was a woman who was also an experienced adventure participant.

DESCRIPTION OF THE RESPONDENTS The average age ofthe respondents was 30 years, with a range from 16 to 64 years. The level of education was higher than average with over two thirds (68 percent) of the respondents being university- or college-educated. Over three quarters (78 percent) of the respondents were employed. 284


fication. The remainder had a wide variety of advanced diving qualifications, including dive master (18), instructor (9), and assistant instructor (7).

The remaining 22 percent was comprised of homemakers (3 percent), those looking for paid work (3 percent), volunteers (1 percent), and unemployed persons (15 percent). Employed respondents were almost equally divided between professional and technical occupations (46 percent) and sales, clerical, trade, and other positions (54 percent). Forty-three percent of the respondents lived with a partner, and the majority of the remainder lived either in community households (22 percent) or alone (17 percent). Over three quarters (78 percent) of the respondents had no children living with them. Two percent had three children, with the remaining 20 percent almost equally divided between having either one or two children. Overall, the women who responded to the survey were young, well-educated, and employed with no children.

Most respondents (78 percent) preferred to participate with friends and peers, and the majority of the remainder expressed a preference for organised groups or clubs. Less than one percent expressed a preference for solo activity. Respondents showed a tendency to prefer males (41 percent) as compared to females (33 percent) for companions in adventure activities. An even gender mix was preferred by the remaining 25 percent of the respondents. The majority of participants preferred activity areas with vehicle access and no facilities on-site, but available nearby with few people. REASONS FOR PARTICIPATION

Almost half (49 percent) of the respondents were involved in more than one activity. Of these, the most common combination (54 percent) was rock climbing and kayaking, followed by all three activities (26 percent), with the remaining 20 percent being almost equally divided between SCUBA diving and rock climbing and SCUBA diving and kayaking. Twenty percent were involved in SCUBA diving only, followed by 18 and 13 percent, respectively, involved in rock climbing and kayaking only. The most frequent participation rate was about once or twice a month, with only four percent of the respondents participating on a weekly basis. Forty-seven percent of the participants had been involved in adventure activities for five or less years, just over three quarters of them for 10 or less years, and the maximum length of participation was 44 years. Forty-seven percent of the respondents had taken a break from participation of more than one year.

The reasons for participation in adventure activities were explored using selected items from the Recreation Experience Preference (REP) scale (Driver, 1990) and were rated in importance on a five-point scale. Factor analysis was used to reduce the 23 selected REP scale items to a smaller number of factors that most appropriately summarised the underlying characteristics of the data. The level of involvement in adventure activities of each respondent was derived from the mean rating on the 14 items comprising the Enduring Involvement (EL) scale. This same scale had been used in previous studies on campers (McIntyre, 1989), masters sports participants (McIntyre et al., 1992), and rock climbers (McIntyre, in press). Regression analysis was used to model the relationship between enduring involvement and key variables in the Adventure Model (Ewert and Hollenhorst, 1989).

Forty percent of the climbers were leading Grade 16 (5.8) or higher and when top-roped, the proportion climbing above this grade rose to over three quarters (77 percent). Almost half (48 percent) of the kayakers felt competent in Grade 3 rapids, and over a quarter of them (27 percent) felt competent in Grade 4 rapids or higher. Some 40 percent of the SCUBA divers had basic certi-

The factor analyses revealed seven reasons for participation, namely personal growth, identity, social interaction, relaxation, learning, independence, and escape. (See Table 1.) An analysis of the mean scores for each of these factors indicated that escape (mean score = 4.4) was the most important reason for participation among women. This factor included items that relate to experi285


encing new and different things, being close to nature, and doing things without family. The next most important factor was social interaction (mean score = 4.0) and referred to being involved with peers and friends as well as meeting new and different people. Learning (mean score = 3.8), personal growth (mean score = 3.7), and relaxation (mean score = 3.5) were about equally rated in importance with relatively lower ratings assigned to independence (mean score = 3.0) and identity (mean score = 2.9).

The escape factor reflects a bi-polarity of reasons, suggesting an escape to do new and different things (i.e., adventure activities) in a natural setting and away from responsibilities associated with family. Samdahl (1988) suggested that for women leisure can provide an opportunity to step outside traditional role constraints and enhance self-expression. The highest rating of the escape factor combined with the negative loading on responsibility (family) supports the value placed on this function ofadventure activities in women's lives.

Previous studies of adventure recreation participants (Ewen, 1986; and McIntyre, 1991) have identified similar motives for participation, including identity (recognition), personal growth (creativity, challenge, and competence), relaxation/escape (catharsis/escape). However, the emphasis on the theme of escape and the presence of a highly rated social interaction factor have not been reported previously.

Freysinger and Flannery (1992) identified the following motivations for pursuing leisure activities among women: a) to enhance family relationships; b) to spend time with friends (i.e., to enhance social relationships); c) to experience freedom of choice; d) to escape from ascribed roles (i.e., self-determination); and e) to learn or realise potentials.

Table 1. Women's motivations for participation in adventure activities. Escape (mean score = 4.4)

Social Interaction (mean score = 4.0)

to experience new and different things to be close to nature to do things without family

to be with others who enjoy the same things I do to be with friends to talk to new and different people

Learning (mean score = 3.8)

Personal Growth (mean score = 3.7)

to learn more about things to share what I have learned with others

to develop personal spiritual values to gain self-confidence to get exercise to experience feelings of accomplishment to be creative

Relaxation (mean score = 3.5)

Independence (mean score = 3.0) to be alone to feel independent

to relax physically to relax mentally to develop skills and abilities Identity (mean score = 2.9) to show others I can do it to be known as a climber, kayaker, and/or SCUBA diver to be in control of things that happen 286


These authors categorised (a) and (b) as affiliation and suggested that it lay within the female roles of spouse, friend, family member, and mother. On the other hand, (c), (d), and (e) were seen not so much as resistance to female roles as resistance to being limited to these roles. So leisure, as it relates to freedom of choice, selfdetermination, and learning, is seen by these women as a way "to challenge and expand their gendered sense of self" (Freysinger and Flannery, 1992).

volvement. Following Ewert and Hollenhorst (1989), factors that were useful in predicting involvement included skill level, past experience with adventurous activities (i. e. , length of time and frequency of participation), propensity to take risks, locus of control, companions (i. e. , type of group), preferred environment, and motives for participation. Additional relevant variables included age, education, and preferred gender mix. Of the eight predictors entered, frequency of participation accounted for 22 percent of the variation in enduring involvement, a further 18 and 6 percent, respectively, accounted for participation and skill level. (See Table 2.) Overall, the eight variables accounted for a total of 54 percent of the variation in enduring involvement in adventure activities for female participants. Higher levels of enduring involvement were significantly associated with higher levels ofparticipation frequency, identity, escape, relaxation, personal development, and skill level.

Of the motivations discovered in the current study of women adventurers, social interaction could be classed within a gender role; whereas escape, learning, personal development, relaxation, independence, and identity could be interpreted as role expansion. It is evident that while escape (role expansion) was the most important motivation, social interaction (within role) remained high in importanceâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;more important than learning or personal development. This could mean that while eager to escape family responsibilities, these women were still working within a gendered role. On the other hand, by recognising that women have frequently been limited to one role onlyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;that of social affiliationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the fact that they continue to exhibit this at the same time as expanding beyond stereotyped roles is not a contradiction but rather an indication of movement towards a broader role identification.

Women who were enduring involved in outdoor adventure participated more frequently than their lesser involved counterparts, they were more skilled at the activity, and at high levels of involvement, being recognised as an adventure participant was important. Haggard and Williams (1990) provided evidence to suggest that individuals, in part, choose activities because of the leisure identities they affirm. This study and others (e.g., McIntyre, 1991) suggest that adventure participants, as they become enduring involved in their particular activities, seek increasingly to reflect the culture of the activity and its participants.

MODELLING WOMEN'S PARTICIPATION IN ADVENTURE ACTIVITIES

Previous research by Ewert and Hollenhorst (1989) proposed a model of adventure participation that was based on the changes in personal and environmental attributes as participants' selfreported skill levels and experience increased. McIntyre (1992) argued that it was more appropriate to base such a model on enduring involvement in the activity rather than on the level of engagement. For this reason, the EI scale was used rather than the level of engagement. Multiple regression analysis was used to develop a mathematical model of the key variables that contributed to the development of enduring in-

Increasing levels of enduring involvement were associated with greater importance being placed on the activity's propensity to provide opportunities for new and different experiences in natural surroundings and away from family responsibilities. Physical and mental relaxation and opportunities for personal growth were also highly valued potential outcomes for enduring involved participants. Notable omissions among the predictors of enduring involvement in adventure recreation were 287


^ ^

the activity/setting attributes of social and environmental orientation (Ewert and Hollenhorst, 1989). This suggests that a model of adventure recreation for women is characterised more by the individual attributes than by setting factors. This may be explained in part by the structural aspects of women's ,participation that seem to be influenced strongly by an opportunistic style of participation. Such a style is characterised by an unwillingness to be involved in the mechanics of arranging and planning adventure outings or perhaps because of other responsibilities, tempered

by the strong desire to take any opportunity for participation that does arise (Little, personal communication). CONCLUSIONS

This paper has sought to explore some of the reasons why women participate in outdoor adventure activities. It seems that the opportunity to expand beyond a role bounded by expectations of family nurturance and affiliation and to adopt a role of adventurer is highly valued by the

Table 2. Regression of mean enduring involvement with Adventure Model variables. BLOCK^

1^2^3^4^5^6^7^8

Age^ -.01^-.10^-.12^-.11^-.09^-.08^-.06^-A9 Education^-.13^-.13^-.15^-.15^-.15^-.12^-.11^-.05 Locus of Control Preferred Area Preferred Gender of Partner(s) Preferred Group

-.03

-.02

-.01

-.01

-.01

-.02

-.02

.09

.09

.11

.06

-.05

-.03

.12 -.06

.12 -.08

.07 -.07

.01 -.01

.00 .02

.18

.14^.07

.18

Risk ^.14

Frequency of Participation Years of Participation

1^

.26 .51 .03

^.14**

.41*** .04 .14**

Relaxation Social Interaction Learning Independence Escape Identity Personal Development

.05

.07 .01

.14**

.16** .13*

^.03^.032^.038^.05^.08^.14^.36^.54 .03^.002^.006^.01^.03^.06*^.22*** .18*** R=Increment *=p<.05 **=p<.01 ***=p<.001

288


., and S. Hollenhorst. 1989. Testing the adventure model: Empirical support for a model ofrisk recreation participation.Journal of Leisure Research 2:124-39.

women who participated in this study. Exploring one's potential to meet challenging situations, relaxing, learning complex skills, gaining selfconfidence, and being independent are all part of this expanded role. However, it is important to recognise that this role is acted out in a context where social interaction with friends, peers, and others is second only to getting away. Women who become enduring involved in adventure activities place a high importance on motivations such as identity, escape, relaxation, and personal growth. While it would be expected on theoretical grounds that a higher value would be placed on the motivations of escape, relaxation, and personal growth by more involved participants, previous research has either demonstrated no change (Ewert and Hollenhorst, 1989; and McIntyre, 1991) or a decrease in importance of identification with increased involvement (Ewert, 1986). Does this represent a different need that women adventurers have? Possibly the need to be recognised and accepted in the male-dominated world of adventure? The ultimate aim of this research is to focus attention on the need to examine the full range of adventure recreationists so as to provide a better understanding of participation. On this basis, it will be possible to develop strategies to improve access to and enhance continued participation in adventure pursuits for any member of the community who chooses to become involved. REFERENCES

Freysinger and Flannery. 1992.Women's leisure: Affiliation, self-determination, empowerment, and resistance. Society and Leisure 15:30322. Haggard, L., and D. Williams. 1991. Self-identity benefits of leisure activities. In: Benefits of leisure, eds B. Driver, P. Brown, and G. Peterson. State College: Venture Publishing. Henderson, K., and D. Stalnaker. 1988. The relationship between barriers to recreation and gender-role personality traits for women. Journal of Leisure Research 20:69-80. McIntyre, N. 1989. The personal meaning of participation: Enduring involvement. Journal of Leisure Research 21:167-79. —. 1991. Why do people rock climb? Leisure Options 1:33-7. —. 1992. Involvement in risk recreation: A comparison of objective and subjective measures of engagement. Journal ofLeisure Research 24:64-71. —. In press. Involvement in recreation. In: New viewpoints in Australian outdoor recreation research and planning, ed. D. Mercer. Melbourne: Hepper-Marriott.

Csikzentmihalyi, M. 1975. Beyond boredom and anxiety. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

., D. Coleman, A. Boag, and G. Cuskelly. 1992. Understanding masters sports participation: Involvement, motives, and benefits. ACHPER National Journal 138(Summer):4-8.

Dillman, A. 1978. Mail and telephone surveys. New York City: John Wiley and Sons. Dustin, D., L. McAvoy, and L. Beck. 1986. Promoting recreational self-sufficiency.

Journal of Parks and Recreation Administration 4:43-52.

Ewert, A. 1986. Motivations, skills level, and their relationships. In: Proceedings ofthe National Wilderness Research Conference--Current Research, ed. R. Lucas. USFS General Technical Report INT-212.

Mitchell, G. 1983. Mountain experience: The psychology and sociology of adventure. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Robinson, D. 1992. A descriptive model of enduring risk recreation involvement. Journal of Leisure Researc. 24:52-63. Samdahl, D. 1988. A symbolic interactional model of leisure. Leisure Sciences 10:27 -39. 289


Warren, K. 1985. Women's outdoor adventures: Myth and reality. Journal of Experiential Education 8:10-4

Wearing, B. 1991. Leisure and women's identity in late adolescence: Constraints and opportunities. Paper presented at the WLRA Congress (Sydney). ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

This study was supported by a Griffith University Research Grant. AUTHORS

Norman McIntyre Jackie Kiewa Josephine Burden School of Leisure Studies Griffith University Queensland 4111 Australia

290


Part 6: Wilderness Research


WILDERNESS RESEARCH: A MODEL OF WILDERNESS SCIENCE FOR THE 21ST CENTURY ALAN EWERT DEBORAH CARR

sions and agencies. In addition, training wilderness professionals and determining effective management actions continues to be an important component in the stewardship of the wilderness and wildland resources.

ABSTRACT As the National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS) has expanded, the need for high quality research on a broad spectrum of wilderness issues has concomitantly increased. To address this increasing demand for high quality research on the physical, biological, ecological, and social issues facing the NWPS, the USDA Forest Service has established the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute (WRI). This paper describes the inter-disciplinary and multi-organizational nature of the WRI, the research and application functions ofthe WRI, integration with the wilderness community (e.g., USDA Wilderness Training Center, other government agencies, various university systems having a wilderness research program, and non-governmental organizations), and the national/international mission ofthe WRI.

INTRODUCTION The National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS) has grown significantly since its creation in 1964. In addition, the need for scientific information has become more critical for developing sound wilderness management practices. The NWPS provides many unique research and management opportunities and challenges. Wilderness resources can provide base-line infonmalion for better understanding of ecological patterns, processes, and the dynamics of natural change. Whether managing to minimize recreation-use impacts or maximize recreation experiences, monitoring for regional air quality, or recording baseline measures for global change monitoring, a basic understanding of natural processes and human impacts is essential for sound management practices. Educating the public about the values and appropriate uses of wilderness is an important goal for the natural resource profes-

,

To meet the scientific information needs for this stewardship, there is a need to bring together diverse disciplines and interests to develop solutions in a manner that combines managerial experience with research expertise. The WRI will facilitate the development of scientific information on wilderness-related issues by providing coordination and integration on a broad spectrum of wilderness and ecosystem research efforts. Accordingly, the mission ofthe WRI is "to obtain and provide information necessary to sustain wilderness resources in an ecologically and socially sound manner for the present and future. This mission is accomplished through research, technology transfer, education, cooperative studies, and partnerships within the USDA Forest Service, other governmental agencies, non-governmental organizations, and universities."

GOALS The goals of the WRI arise directly from its mission of providing national and international coordination and integration on the wide variety of wilderness and wilderness-related ecosystem research and management efforts. Accordingly, the WRI has five major goals: 1. Provide a scientific basis for wilderness management. 2. Integrate and coordinate a broad spectrum of research efforts. 3. Conduct and expand wilderness research through a variety of agency, 292


• Ensure continuity by providing more opportunities for long-term, followup studies.

university and non governmental (NGO) scientists. 4. Develop and implement the technology transfer of new and existing knowledge and information for a variety ofagencies, organizations, and the general public.

• Provide a forum for a wider array of research topics, including research with national-level concerns such as global change and base-line monitoring.

5. Increase the technical assistance in national and international wilderness related issues through wilder ness research.

• Provide for more effective use of resources by developing partnerships with universities, governmental agencies, and NGOs.

BENEFITS

• Facilitate the transfer and application ofresearch findings to managers, wildland researchers, universities, governmental agencies, wilderness constituencies, and the general public.

In achieving these goals, the WRI will generate a number of benefits for both the research and management of wilderness and wildland areas. These benefits will:

• Provide a national center staffed by diverse scientists and scientific disciplines to deal with the growing number of wilderness issues.

• Provide scientific information that will result in improved stewardship of the NWPS. Provide a model for integrated research and management to advance understanding of the social, cultural, and ecological significance of wilderness and wildlands. (The knowledge and experience gained through the WRI will guide management in a manner responsive to societal needs and to the special roles that wilderness resources serve in the ecology, economy, and social fabric of the U.S. and global environments.)

RESEARCH TOPICS The WRI will address a full range of wilderness management issues. Potential research topics to be addressed include: recreation and non-recreation uses; identifying and understanding the physical, ecological, and social impacts on the wilderness resource; and developing a monitoring system for the NWPS. In addition, the WRI will continue to develop information useful for wilderness management and education. More specific descriptions of potential research topics are as follows:

• Aggregate the research expertise both within and outside the agency to produce state-of-the-art knowledge about wilderness and ecosystem issues.

Recreation and Non-Recreation Uses • Improve the understanding of recreational impacts on the wilderness resource.

• Provide cost-effective research through a more efficient integration of expertise and resources among various governmental and public organizations.

• Improve the understanding of recreational benefits of the wilderness resource.

• Collect and coordinate wilderness research information from a diverse array of natural resource agencies, or ganizations, and universities.

• Develop techniques that would help managers increase visitor satisfaction 293


habitat fragmentation and increased urbanization.

and behaviors that are consistent with good land stewardship. • Based on sustainable ecosystem man agement, define and develop measures and standards for extractive non-recreational uses of wilderness such as mining and grazing. Develop measures and ways of evaluating the values and benefits of non-extractive uses included in the Wilderness Act such as preservation, scientific, educational, scenic, historical, and cultural values. • Improve understanding of the economic impact of wilderness, particularly its role in rural area development. • Assess the role of wilderness in the development of a natural resource land ethic. Physical, Ecological, and Social Impacts on the Wilderness Resource

Monitoring the National Wilderness Preservation System

• Develop procedures and descriptive criteria for defining naturalness. • Develop criteria and standards for monitoring wilderness "health," including impacts of fire, insects, global change, mining, recreation, and livestock grazing. • Develop and evaluate indicators and techniques for establishing base-line studies of ecological conditions. • Define and develop measures for the conditions in wildlands outside of wilderness that have impacts inside the wilderness. Developing Information Useful for Wilderness Management and Education

• Improve the understanding of humancaused impacts on the wilderness resource.

• Develop information needed to assess the activities and use trends of wilderness, as required by the Resource Protection Act.

• Continue development of techniques to minimize the adverse impacts of recreation use on wilderness.

• Develop and evaluate techniques for improving or maintaining ecosystem integrity in wilderness.

• Improve the understanding of the role of fire and other natural disturbances in wilderness ecosystems.

• Improve the understanding of and techniques for management and monitoring of Threatened and Endangered Species.

• Develop knowledge about biodiversity in wilderness and how to protect it.

• Develop and evaluate techniques and information to improve wilderness education programs for USFS and other agency staff and the public.

• Develop an improved understanding of the natural composition, structure, and function of the wilderness ecosystem.

• Improve the understanding of the effects and effectiveness of various management practices carried out in wilderness (e.g., fire suppression, fishstocking, and party size limits).

• Increase knowledge about the impact of management practices and land uses surrounding wilderness, including 294


leges and universities, governmental agencies, and other organizations. This integration effort includes transferring research findings into wilderness management through a variety of techniques, including providing input into training curriculum, holding workshops and symposium, and providing the information feedback loop between management and research. Assisting in the implementation of the monitoring system developed by the WRI will be a central priority. A comprehensive wilderness library would be developed and maintained. In order to fulfill its research and application mission, the WRI will include a Steering Committee, University Consortia, and Institute Staff.

Evaluate the effectiveness of the flow of information between the WRI and the Arthur Carhart Wilderness Training Center (WTC), agency and the public, and between different user groups in order to develop techniques for conflict management. â&#x20AC;˘ Improve the understanding of concepts such as land ethics and the relationship between people and the wilderness resource. ORGANIZATION The structure and function of the WRI is oriented around the belief that the best and most efficient way to act as stewards of the NWPS is to integrate wilderness research and management efforts across agency and organizational boundaries. This has led to the decision that an important criteria in locating the WRI is to be in close proximity to the WTC in order to provide the maximum interface between wilderness researchers and managers. The importance of this integration and interface has resulted in a mission and organization that represents wilderness constituencies, and which emphasizes close cooperation between federal land management agencies and universities.

Steering Committee A steering committee would assist the WRI and WTC in areas such as the prioritization of research topics and management training needs. The committee would consist of two representatives each from USFS Research, USDI Bureau of Land Management, USDI National Park Service, and USDI Fish and Wildlife Service. The committee will meet as needed to identify management needs for research and other high-priority wilderness and wildland research topics and develop a wilderness network (i.e., with industry, NGOs, and governmental organizations). University Consortia

As an organizing framework, the WRI is oriented around two functions: 1) research and 2) application. The research function will bring together scientific expertise from within and outside the agency to produce state-of-the-art knowledge about wilderness and ecosystem issues. The application function will take the lead in better communicating with and involving the existing wilderness research and management efforts (e.g., the Wilderness Management Correspondence Course operated by Colorado State University and the USDI Bureau of Land Management, the Wilderness Research Center at the University of Idaho, and the Wilderness Institute at the University of Montana). This would include developing and executing partnerships with private interests, conservation organizations, col-

University participation in the research and application efforts of the WRI will be organized around topically oriented consortia. University participation will also include cooperative research and a visiting scientist program. Institute Director The WRI Director will report to the Director of Forest Inventory, Economics, and Recreation Research in the Washington, D.C., office and will provide overall leadership to the WRI. The director will coordinate WRI activities with various stations and regions, university systems, consortia, government agencies, and other organizations. The director will be responsible for 295


planning, organizing, implementing, and reporting on all aspects ofthe WRI. In conjunction with the assistant directors, the director will develop a five-year operating plan for the WRI, including annual programs of work, financial planning, and attainment reports. The director will work closely with the USDA Training Center staff to identify priority research needs and technology transfer opportunities. Assistant Director for Research The WRI Assistant Director for Research (ADR) will provide overall leadership for the research responsibilities of the WRI. The ADR will conduct research, supervise teams of USFS scientists, coordinate affiliate research teams, and administer grants. One of the goals of the WRI is to integrate research of USFS scientists, other agency scientists, academic scientists, privatesector scientists.

synergistic research/management environment is needed to address the education of managers and visitors, monitoring, rehabilitation, and public participation. The WRI offers an excellent opportunity to develop a research facility and structure that will be responsive to both on-going wilderness-related issues and developing challenges. By combining the efforts and expertise of a variety of agencies and organizations, wilderness research will be able to better supply needed information for the management of wilderness resources. AUTHORS Alan Ewert Deborah Carr Wilderness, Recreation, and Urban Forestry Research USDA Forest Service Washington, DC

Assistant Director for Application The WRI Assistant Director for Application (ADA) will report to the WRI Director and has primary responsibilities in the areas of application, information collection, marketing, technology transfer, and outreach. The ADA will assist in the development of partnerships with national and international wilderness research and management entities, including universities, other federal agencies, and NGOs. The ADA will also manage the WRI library. In conjunction with the director, the ADA will be responsible for developing the marketing and information plans. The intent of this function will be to provide an interface between scientists, managers, educators, policy-makers, and citizen groups to develop information exchanges and solutions to wilderness-related issues. SUMMARY In sum, the WRI will play an important role in developing a connection between research and management in order to accomplish technology transfer, as well as in providing input on what research needs exist in the field. In essence, a 296


AN ASSESSMENT OF CURRENT RESEARCH IN THE NATIONAL WILDERNESS PRESERVATION SYSTEM DEBORAH CARR JOHN HENDEE

ABSTRACT Early proponents for wilderness strongly espoused science as a value and purpose for wilderness protection, and that purpose was specifically recognized in the 1964 Wilderness Act. The National Wilderness Preservation System (NWPS) has grown dramatically; in spite of this, there is less dedicated wilderness research today than shortly after the Wilderness Act was passed. Research is needed not only to support management of the 95-million-acre wilderness system, but to take advantage of the unique opportunities wilderness provides for advancing basic science, including the study of ecosystem response to natural perturbations, as well as for baseline and environmental monitoring to assess change from global influences and to compare with conditions on more intensively managed lands. A national wilderness research task force of the Society of American Foresters (SAF) is collecting information about the extent of studies in wilderness by all of the federal wilderness management agencies, universities, and other organizations and institutions in order to assess total scientific activity in wilderness. This paper presents data from the committee's survey of current wilderness studies, categorizing them into inventories, surveys of existing conditions; monitoring studies that have remeasurement capability; ecological studies where relationships are investigated; and management studies that seek solutions to problems. The types of studies are further categorized by sponsoring agencies and topics including geology, ecosystem/watershed, fire, vegetation, grazing, air quality, water quality, wildlife, fisheries, visitor management, resource use impacts, archeology, and non-use values. Several trends are apparent in the kinds of studies undertaken by different sponsoring entities. This

data will provide a basis for assessing the status of wilderness research programs nationwide and guide recommendations made by the committee on wilderness research needs and direction.

INTRODUCTION From its inception, the concept of a NWPS has included science as one of its inherent purposes. The wilderness idea, a system of lands that would remain undeveloped with minimal human influence, rested in part on the value of wild areas to act as baselines of environmental integrity where scientific research could reveal much about natural processes. The Wilderness Act specifically mentions science as one of the purposes ofwilderness: "Wilderness areas shall be devoted to the public purposes of recreational, scenic, scientific, educational, conservation, and historic use" (P.L. 88-577, Sec. 4b). The authors of the Wilderness Act anticipated a wilderness preservation system of 30 to 40 million acres encompassing the most inaccessible and rugged pieces of our national landscape. Rather, today the NWPS comprises 95 million acres of land, which includes 500 plus areas under the jurisdiction ofthe four principal federal land management agencies in 44 states and is likely to grow to 120 million acres or more. Consequently, the scientific needs to support management of such a large preservation system, and the opportunities for basic science and environmental monitoring in that wilderness system, are also far greater than originally anticipated. Moreover, global and environmental changes were not anticipated to become as serious as they are today. As a result, the needs and opportunities for wilderness research are immense, no doubt far exceeding the capabilities of existing wilderness research programs. 297


WILDERNESS RESEARCH TODAY It is difficult to determine just how much wilderness research has been or is being done to support NWPS stewardship. All federal land management agencies with wilderness responsibilities are involved in studies and surveys of conditions of some type, but the nature and extent of these studies has not been known. Only the USDA Forest Service (USFS) has a dedicated wilderness research program with easily documented products. Over 280 publications have been produced in this program, including many of the most significant contributions to wilderness management knowledge. Today, dedicated wilderness researchbythe USFS totals less than three-quarters of a million dollars annually. This reflects a decline in real dollars per acre invested in wilderness research during a period when the NWPS expanded from 15 to 95 million acres and diversified. It is not just the amount of wilderness research that should be of concern. It is also the growing need for more diverse information to support management, to assess wilderness costs and benefits, and to extend basic science and environmental monitoring. A NATIONAL WILDERNESS RESEARCH NEEDS COMMITTEE Out of concern that wilderness research today is not adequate nor are research priorities clear, the SAF Wilderness Management Working Group chartered the National Wilderness Research Needs Working Group Committee "to assess the status of wilderness research programs nationwide and develop recommendations to address the situation." This committee was subsequently embraced by the parent society and is now the SAF National Wilderness Research Needs Committee. committee includes representatives from all four wilderness management agencies, five appropriate interest groups, and four universities. (See Table 1.) ASSESSING CURRENT WILDERNESS RESEARCH At the request of the SAF National Wilderness ResearchNeeds Committee, federal agencies with wilderness management responsibilities along with

the 60 institutions belonging to the National Association of Professional Forestry Schools and Colleges and the 48 institutions belonging to the National Association of University Fisheries and Wildlife Programs were asked to compile a list of their current wilderness studies. For all organizations except the USDI National Park Service (NPS), current research was defined as any research active in Fiscal Year 1992. The most current data available from the NPS was Fiscal Year 1991. Wilderness studies are defined as any research done all or partially within wilderness boundaries. Based on these survey results, the wilderness studies were classified into 13 topical categories: 1) geological studies, 2) ecosystem and watershed studies, 3) vegetation, 4) grazing, 5) fire, 6) air quality, 7) water quality, 8) wildlife resources, 9) fish resources, 10) social aspects of visitation, 11) resource impacts of visitation, 12) archeology, and 13) non-use values. In addition to these topic categories, studies were also classified into four categories based on the depth of research being done: 1) inventory, 2) monitoring studies, 3) ecological studies, and 4) management studies. Inventory studies are descriptive studies whose primary goal is to survey the number and nature of the study population, such as a survey ofthe number and distribution of a species in a given area or the assessment of values, knowledge, and attitudes towards wilderness. Monitoring studies are those with longterm study capability or which remeasure previous data; any trends study would fall into this category. Ecological studies are those that focus on relationships between aspects of the wilderness resource; examples include conflict between pack stock users and hikers and the relationship between use and site conditions or between vegetation patterns and fire history. Management studies are those concerned with describing, evaluating, or improving management actions; examples include evaluating the effects of implementing a recreation use limitation program or developing better air quality measurement equipment. We believe these "depth of study" categories represent a continuum of sorts, ranging from information collected in useful, but somewhat superficial, descriptive studies (in-

298


Table 1. SOCIETY OF AMERICAN FORESTERS NATIONAL RESEARCH COMMITTEE Universities John Hendee^ (Committee Chair)^ Dean, College of Forestry, Wildlife, ^ and Range Sciences University of Idaho

Sid Frissell Dean, School of Forestry University of Montana

Perry Brown^ Associate Dean, College of Forestry^ Oregon State University^

Bruce Weirsma Dean, College ofForest Resources University of Maine

Interest Groups Jay Watson^ Development Associate^ The Wilderness Society^

Fran Hunt Issues Coordinator National Wildlife Federation

Rollin Sparrowe^ President^ Wildlife Management Institute^

V. Al Sample Vice President for Research American Forestry Association

Bill Chandler Conservation Programs Director National Parks and Conservation Association Agencies John Dennis Chief Science Branch Wildlife and Vegetation Division USDI National Park Service

Gerald Stokes^ Program Leader^ Wilderness Planning^ USDA Forest Service^

Rob Shallenberger Alan Ewert^ Chief Branch Chief^ Division of Wildlife Refuges ^ Recreation, Wilderness, and Urban Forestry Resources USDI Fish and Wildlife Service USDA Forest Service^ Frank Snell Chief Division of Recreation and Cultural and Wilderness Resources USDI Bureau of Land Management

299


SCIENTIST PANELS ON WILDERNESS RESEARCH PRIORITIES

Ken Cordell Coordinator Research Unit Leader Southeast Forest Experiment Station USDA Forest Service Panel Topics and Co-Chairs

Wilderness Environmental Monitoring, Assessment, and Atmospheric Effects

Doug Fox Rocky Mountain Forest Experiment Station USDA Forest Service John Peine Great Smoky Mountains National Park USDI National Park Service

Wilderness Fire Ecology and Management

Jim Saveland Southern Forest Fire Laboratory USDA Forest Service Jan van Wagtendonk Yosemite National Park USDI National Park Service

Wilderness Wildlife and Fish Resources: Populations, Habitat, and Use

Raymond Dueser Utah State University Mike Falter University of Idaho

Wilderness Visitor Management, Benefits, and Non-Use Values

Joseph Roggenbuck Virginia Technical University Richard Walsh Colorado State University

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ventory) to more in-depth studies looking at complex interrelationships (ecological studies). Many studies fall into more than one category, and in such instances studies were classified based on their perceived primary goal in order to avoid double counting and give an accurate total of the actual number of studies taking place. Thus, each study was only recorded once.

FINDINGS There are inherent difficulties in summarizing and comparing data from the four federal agencies involved in wilderness management, as well as data coming from different functional areas within an agency, given differing research mandates and wilderness programs. Additionally, attempting to identify all wilderness research taking place within wilderness boundaries has both advantages and disadvantages. It allows these organizations to take an all inclusive look at research being conducted in wilderness rather than limiting their search to more stringent guidelines, but it also has the potential disadvantage of including studies whose boundaries overlap the wilderness boundaries, but which have little to do with the wilderness resource itself. There is also the difficulty of combining a wide range of research efforts from basic inventory efforts to substantial multi-agency, multi-year research endeavors into the same table and giving each equal weight. Nonetheless, this effort to summarize current wilderness research is a valuable tool as a snapshot of all research efforts in this area. Before considering the data, a brief look at how each of the reporting organizations defined wilderness research is necessary. Studies reported by Forest Service Research (FSR) are those done by the two dedicated wilderness research projects in Missoula, Montana, and Athens, Georgia, in addition to the wildland fire project in Missoula. The studies reported by the USFS National Forest System (NFS) range from basic inventory and monitoring connected to the Limits of Acceptable Change process to administrative studies done by forest personnel to large, multi-agency studies conducted on national forest lands with little or no

USFS participation. All studies conducted in wilderness, excluding wilderness feasibility studies, are reported by the USDI Bureau of Land Management (BLM). Both the USDI Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) and the NPS focus on the administrative unit, whether it is a refuge or park to delineate their studies. More so than other agencies, studies reported by these two agencies may take place all or only partially in wilderness. Colleges and universities receive the bulk of their wilderness research funding from the four principal federal agencies. Only those studies funded by other sources are reported here to avoid double counting. A total of 551 studies were reported by the various organizations. (See Table 2.) By agency, the USFS has the largest number of studies, followed by the NPS, FWS, and BLM. Clear trends are apparent in the data. The management entities--NFS, FWS, and NPS--focus heavily on inventory and monitoring, identifying what is present in wilderness and how it is changing. The FSR, colleges and universities, and NPS are focusing on understanding the wilderness resource with ecological studies. Finally, the FSR and colleges and universities are also focusing on assisting managers in their wilderness management efforts. Because there are so many categories, it is a bit more difficult to look at the subject matter of the studies. The combination of the social and resource impact aspects of visitation is the most common subject matter across the entities. Within single categories, wildlife is the most studied subject followed by vegetation and air quality. Among those studies with lesser representation in wilderness research are geological studies, grazing, fisheries, archeology, and non-use values. Among the organizations, there are clear trends in what is emphasized. The FSR is concentrating on the social and resource impact aspects of wilderness visitation and fire studies. Studies focusing on social aspects are distributed across the four types of research, with monitoring research being the least common. Resource impact studies, by 301


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definition of the category, are predominantly ecological studies concerned with relationships. Studies reported by the NFS contain a wide range of subject matter and type of research undertaken including vegetation, air quality, wildlife, and social aspects of visitation, concentrating primarily on inventory and monitoring. Exceptions include air quality and the social and resource aspects of visitation where management studies are well represented. The BLM, beyond their work in wilderness study areas (not reported here), emphasizes large-scale ecosystem monitoring systems and social aspects of visitation.

AUTHORS Deborah Carr Recreation, Wilderness, and Urban Forestry Research USDA Forest Service John Hendee College of Forestry, Wildlife, and Range Sciences University of Idaho

Both the FWS and NPS studies focus primarily on wildlife and vegetation, with the bulk of the FWS studies being inventory and monitoring. The NPS studies are spread across inventory, monitoring, and ecological studies, including ecosystem and watershed studies. Work done by colleges and universities reported here falls across nearly all the resource categories. Two areas of focus include wildlife ecology studies and management studies of the social and resource impacts of visitation. CONCLUSION This paper describes part of an effort the SAF National Wilderness Research Needs Committee to assess current wilderness research efforts by the federal agencies. It is meant to provide an overview of the current wilderness research going on across all sources. It is not meant to be a standalone analysis of wilderness research needs or priorities, but is part of the larger information collection process of the committee.

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MONITORING ECOLOGICAL RESPONSES IN WILDERNESS USING GEOGRAPHIC TECHNOLOGIES

CRISTA CARROLL DON HINRICHSEN

THE PUZZLE Wilderness management areas are ecosystem islands, so managers must recognize that they are working with only a piece of the ecosystem puzzle. The puzzle pieces (including wilderness) are, in varying degrees, altered by human influences. How do we approach the complex challenge of managing ecosystem dynamics (a moving target at best) with only some of the puzzle pieces? Natural and alternative process dynamics interplay within the context of a wilderness area. Alternative process dynamics can be characterized as managing for a desired ecological objective as opposed to natural process dynamics, which ultimately evolve from primary to climax seres and back again. We do not have all the answers regarding the ecological process and the delicate interrelationships that millennia of evolution have produced. We have become more sophisticated, but are a long way from having the complete answer. What we do have is rational thought processes and emerging technologies to complement our understanding. Two seemingly understandable words could best describe a current wilderness management mission--stability and sustainability. These words taken in an ecosystem management context become quite complex. Stable does not mean "static." Rather, stability refers to a myriad of interactions on a continuum and is a reflection of the equilibrium and health of an ecosystem. Sustainability, as used in this context, is the human prerogative to manage a system in perpetuity. Stability and sustainability can only be achieved on a proactive basis. Wilderness management is not just watching visitors who enter and leave the wilderness unit. Humans can quickly become

agents for change, but are not the only contributors. Humans are but a part of a complex array of constantly changing components. Knowing the difference between, and the degree of importance of (i.e., amplitude), agents of change will contribute significantly to our understanding of the system. The most common analysis approach for management agencies is to amass a work force of scientists and technicians to conduct a detailed on-the-ground inventory. This is costly, and depending upon the size of the study unit, components may suddenly change or be altered (as in the case of fire), so the inventory becomes dated almost before it is completed. Also, these intensive inventories generally only cover a small percentage of a management area. Areas not covered may defy extrapolation. We therefore must devise a strategy for both the collection of data (over as large a percentage of a study area as possible) and the processing of the data into relevant information on as close to a real-time basis as possible. Some current wilderness management methodologies have established thresholds for visitor activities. These limits of acceptable change, while valuable, are developed in hindsight. Often, little is known about impacts such as displaced fauna that is no longer represented in the impact zone. Another weakness is that such a strategy leaves the manager without a range of options, short of closing an area or altering the zone to sustain the demand. This absence of options puts the manager at a disadvantage and makes the wilderness resource vulnerable to longterm impacts that are destined to repeat themselves if the problem is moved to another area. Simply, too little data is evaluated in relationship to the functional limitations and capabilities of ecotypes and ecosystem dynamics. 304


studying its habitat and how it functions within the ecosystem.

Modern land management requires the consensus of public values and scientific knowledge. To be successful at consensus-building, the manager must incorporate education, planning, and community and special interests into the equation. Furthermore, the manager must be responsiveto industry and local economics in relationship to wilderness and understand how those activities contribute to ecosystem dynamics. An effective use of geographic technologies offers a scientific framework to evaluate ecosystem dynamics, effects of change, and possible agents of change.

Finally, because of these problems, the land management decision-making process often evaluates existing environments based on best estimations of potential environments with no quantifiable, consistent (i.e., repeatable) means of measuring actual current conditions. Gauging and predicting possible impacts of management actions never get far beyond best estimates. We recognize these problems and the fact that many of the boundaries of wilderness areas (i.e., ecosystem islands) have been drawn along administrative and political lines. To manage inside those boundaries, we need to understand the ecosystem dynamics that may not stop at those ecologically incongruent lines.

ANALYSIS RATIONALE With the complexity of the puzzle acknowledged, land management decision-making must begin with an analysis of basic resources and their dynamics. The basic or core components of the ecosystem must be identified before complex cultural layers are added. Too often, natural resources or study areas are initially delineated on the grounds of administrative (political) boundaries. Delimiters, including the spatial (i.e., geographic) delineation of actual ecosystems or ecotypes are usually not recognized. Instead, existing environments-within the confines of a particular political cookie cutter--are defined in descriptive terms. This approach has been common due to limited data collection techniques, and the notion that we as managers can only control and be responsible for land enclosed within our administrative boundaries. However, an awakening to the notion that our individual domains are but parts of a regional (if not global) whole is emerging. In the western United States, the adoption of this concept of ecosystem management and cooperative management efforts is crucial. Public and private ownership patterns are a checkerboard crazy quilt, and ecosystems simply cannot be analyzed and managed based on administrative and political patterns. Compounding this problem, resource specialists tend to view analysis from a single resource perspective. The classic example is to focus analysis on a single species instead of

One effort in ecological modeling is the Biophysical Land Unit (BLU), which is being used in the Albuquerque district ofthe USDI Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in New Mexico. The BLM is managed by the principles of multiple use and sustained yield to protect, preserve, and enhance the natural environment. Bureau land includes areas with a variety of management designations and mandates, including wilderness area and wilderness study areas. THE BIOPHYSICAL LAND UNIT MODEL Biophysical Land Unit models are homogeneous, ecological response units derived using a Geographic Information System (GIS). The term biophysical represents a combination of biological and physical attributes. The most important emphasis of the model is its focus on delineating and describing the expression of a dynamic system captured in a snapshot in time. There are, however, several other emphases of BLU models that separate the concept from other land inventory and mapping methods. Among these emphases are: 1. The BLU model can be used to consider the responses (or lack of responses) of the units to both natural and manipulated influences through time. 305


2. The spatial extent of an ecological response, using BLU models, can be mapped and analyzed without necessarily being visually discernible in the field. 3. The amount of detail or scale ofa BLU (i.e., the level in the hierarchy of the model where analysis is accomplished) can be adapted to fit the question asked. The base or core BLU data is derived from satellite remote sensing data, digital elevation models, soils data, and surface water data. The satellite data provides the "snapshot in time" or total area coverage of the current condition and is particularly useful in areas of wilderness that are difficult to access. The core layers (and if desired, any subsequently added hierarchical or fine tuning layers) are not merely merged or defined through arbitrary visual assessment. Biophysical Land Unit models are delineated when the core layers are modeled in matrix form through Boolean logic (deductive operations of intersection and symmetric difference). In other words, the matrix of defined components (e.g., vegetation/land cover, soils, surface water, slope, elevation, and aspect) draws the BLU boundary lines. Therefore, human perspective (e.g., emotions, values, and visual interpretation) does not predetermine the spatial delineation of BLU models. If an ecotype component combination has not been anticipated in the formulation of the matrix, that spatial area drops out of the BLU model. This simply results in a blank space on the map that is revisited by single map layer analysis and field verification of the site. In this way, previously unknown anomalies, ecotypes, ecological responses, or disturbances may be identified. Finally, the hierarchical concept of BLU models, both in scale and attribute detail, contained in a GIS framework allows for the addition or deletion of data layers, integration of multitemporal data sets, and analysis of change detected and multiple scenarios. Biophysical Land Unit models can be used to spatially model the extent and composition of ecotypes (and therefore biodiversity) by recog-

nizing existing spatial divisions based on ecological responses. That is, ecosystem biodiversity can be assessed across a region by the differentiation and location of separate BLU models-homogeneous response units defined spatially by attribute composition. A desirable effect of using BLU models to spatially model biodiversity is the retention of the patchy detail of existing environments. Biophysical Land Unit models also provide spatial definition of complex ecologic details in a form that can be graphically displayed in a single map layer. This single BLU layer can display the first level of analysis--the homogeneous mix of the core components of existing environments, to which other defining layers (like administrative boundaries or cultural features) can be added for reference without confusing displayed information beyond the point of recognition and interpretation. The focus is on spatial patterns, the assemblages of those patterns (i.e., reflecting communities) and the ecotones that provide the transition between homogeneous areas. This approach allows the analyst to better understand the dynamics occurring in the ecological system without becoming overwhelmed with the specifics of multiple data layers. The emphasis, therefore, becomes one of dynamics, anomalies, edge conditions, stability, and sustainability. ASSESSMENT AND MONITORING

When areas of anomalies have been identified, field verified, and found to require more detailed analysis, another step in the hierarchy of BLU resolution is added. Additional spatial data layers can be overlaid to isolate possible contributing dynamics or site-specific datacanbe collected, geocoded, and analyzed. Work is currently underway to enhance BLU modeling methods using site-specific data. Site data, like transects, correlates detailed snapshots in time to the broader scope of more generalized spatial snapshots in time provided by satellite remote sensing data. Satellite data, along with subsequently derived layers like BLU models, provides total area coverage. It has long been 306


recognized that one of the most practical uses of satellite data is the identification of areas where more specific data collection and evaluation methods are required. This same simple notion supports the BLU concept of hierarchal scales of detail, allowing bi-directional flow of information between generic, regional dynamics, and local, more specific dynamics. A practical example is an effort to automate and link transect data to satellite data and BLU models. The approach is to use vegetation transect data collected into polycorder files and Global Positioning System data for geocoding transect location. At those transect points, a simple compass is used to determine the vector oftransects in relationship to spectral classes and BLU models. Locations of transects would include sites well within a homogeneous area, allowing a clear definition of the vegetation community assemblages. Locations could also include transects perpendicular to ecotones, thus defining spectral or community boundaries. Transects could also be long enough to bisect the boundary and allow for boundary shift through time. By correlating these data sets, it should be possible to track subtle shifts in local ecological dynamics through the relationship ofvegetation community changes and spatial change identified by BLU models. Change that has already been detected and analyzed using BLU models considers the rate, amount, and direction of change, as well as the relationship of change to management manipulations and fluctuations in weather patterns. For example, habitat patchiness, difficult to quantify without GIS-derived BLU models and critical to ecosystem management, has been recognized as becoming more homogeneous in some areas of the BLM Albuquerque district's Chain of Craters Wilderness Study Area. One possible management response to this change may be relaxation of full suppression fire management. Another use of BLU tracking of ecological change is the delineation and monitoring of response components that represent only a small percentage ofa protected area. Tracking these areas, and using GIS to overlay management alternatives,

could eliminate the areas from consideration for incompatible uses like a camping area, interpretive trail, or range improvement. Geographical Information System graphic representation of BLU models and conflict resolutions are then useful for policy implementation within an agency and for public information. The hierarchical framework of BLU models, besides providing flexibility in scale and detail of components of current conditions, is meant to facilitate correlation with other historic and continuously collected data sets. It is also meant to help provide common ground ecological data sets among scientific and/or management disciplines. This facet of the BLU concept is not meant to establish a totally new perspective, but rather to provide a methodology to link past and present data sets with future predictions. Improving methods of relating historic and current environmental data is crucial to identifying past patterns, developing analysis models for predicting change, evaluating historic manipulations of natural resources, and projecting preferred management alternatives. Biophysical Land Unit models have been used to help define and monitor potential plant communities. Definition of potential plant communities includes an evaluation of the capability of a geographic area to support different plant species and assemblages. As potentials and capabilities are defined and understood, progress can be made towards managing for desired plant communities. Desired plant communities consider not only the capability of the land, but the social, economic, and political parameters that define land management alternatives. Using multi-temporal BLU data sets, the progress through time of current conditions towards potential and desired conditions can be measured in acreage and percent. When these ecological analyses or identifications of change are accomplished, we can add layers of cultural activities or management actions to determine correlation and ask: If changes are linked to management actions, are the changes acceptable? Were we able to predict the amount and 307


location of change? Change reflecting a developedtrail-head parking lot that controls vehicular impacts and mitigates erosion potentials may be acceptable.^Disappearance of an undesirable BLU in favor of a desirable BLU may be acceptable. An excessive percentage of loss of a BLU that represents a small, unique percentage of a wilderness area or a threatened habitat would be unacceptable. CONCLUSION

Beyond the BLU applications of inventories, monitoring, and capability assessment, other applications being used or developed include compatibility analysis (between resource programs), suitability analysis (alternative selection by value-based criteria), feasibility analysis (alternative selection dependent upon land capability and fiscal resources), and problem analysis (issue-specific, solution-driven study to support an action).

AUTHORS

Crista Carroll Albuquerque District Office USDI Bureau of Land Management 435 Montano NE Albuquerque, NM 87107 Don Hinrichsen Washington Office USDI Bureau of Land Management 18th Street and C Street NW Washington, DC 20240

Example analyses already accomplished include determination of where to expect visitors based on visual resources and recreation opportunities; appropriate locations for trails or campsites; seasonally dependent impacts and possible closures; and interactions/conflicts between such interests as wildlife, recreation, grazing, and American Indian religious uses. Analysis of BLU models bisected by administrative boundaries with different mandates is also in progress. These BLU analyses using geographic technologies are part of an assortment of tools for monitoring ecological responses and changes in wilderness. A dynamic, responsive model like the BLU model provides a framework for continuing analyses of natural and cultural components. Such a model facilitates management decisions as whether to maintain a condition, allow change, encourage change, or set limits for change--all in relationship to the capabilities and limitations of the ecosystem. Ultimately, BLU models are a combination of subtle yet incredibly obvious spatial-temporal notions. They focus first on ecological dynamics (i.e., responses) separate from human expectations and desires, helping to sort the puzzle pieces for monitoring and managing wilderness. 308


THE FINNISH WILDERNESS RESEARCH PROGRAMME ANNA-LIISA SIPPOLA JUKKA JOKIMAKI VILLE HALLIKAINEN PENTTI SEPPONEN

INTRODUCTION Pristine natural areas have diminished drastically in northern regions during the last few decades. This is especially true in Fennoscandian countries, where economic activities such as forestry and tourism have expanded northward. In Finland, wilderness areas decreased from 2.5 million hectares in the 1960s to 1.6 million hectares in the 1980s (Oinonen, 1983). In the 1980s, forestry activities expanded to the northernmost coniferous forests. The reasons for this were a rapidly growing pulp industry and lowered transport costs. At the same time, the growth of economic welfare and increased leisure time gave rise to a large number of tourist enterprises, especially skiing centers. All these activities were penetrating wilderness areas, causing conflicts between the new activities and subsistence activities such as reindeer herding, hunting, and fishing. The plans for timber felling in some of the remaining wilderness areas gave rise to a strong movement among nature conservationists in the 1980s and led to a large debate on the importance of the last wilderness areas and the need to preserve them. In 1987, the Council of State appointed a committee to investigate the use and preservation of wilderness areas in Finnish Lapland and to propose necessary regulations. The committee gave its report in 1988, suggesting establishment of defined wilderness areas and stressing the need for research. In 1990, Parliament passed the Wilderness Act, by which 12 wilderness areas were established in Finnish Lapland. (See Figure 1.) The total area is 1.5 million hectares, most of which are barren mountains, mountain birch forests, and mires. About 11 percent of the area is coniferous forest. As a compromise between the

economic and conservation interests, forestry is allowed in some parts of the pine-dominated coniferous forests (altogether about one-third of the coniferous forests). In these areas, natural regeneration and so-called natural forest management practices are implemented. The committee report states that there is an urgent need for several research topics, including basic inventories in wilderness areas, research on the carrying capacity of nature, benefits and values of wilderness, relationships between different user, and interest groups (Eramaakomitean mietinto, 1988). Because of this, the Arctic Centre at the University of Lapland and the Finnish Forest Research Institute (FFRI) started a wilderness research programme in 1991. Both organizations have hired a full-time research fellow to conduct and develop wilderness studies. INFORMATION NEEDS AND EXISTING DATA In order to investigate future research needs and interests, the Arctic Centre organized a multidisciplinary seminar in 1991 (Jokimiki et al., 1992). On the basis of this event and later surveys, a list of research needs and information on existing data was compiled. This has been summarized in the research plan for the Finnish Wilderness Programme (Hallikainen and Jokimaki, 1992