Creating the East Mojave Desert was one thing, and a majestic one at that. Creating the East Mojave National Park has not been nearly as pretty For 18 bruising years, interest groups have fought over environmental issues like endangered species, mining reform and grazing rights; federal agencies have waged an internecine war; proponents have caved in on more issues than Bill Clinton trying to pass his budget. But if the process has been unappetizing, it has also-amazingly-succeeded. This week the House of Representatives is expected to pass the California Desert Protection Act, adding 1.5 million acres to Death Valley and Joshua Tree National Monuments and promoting them to national parks, which more tightly limits activities on the land. It also creates the 1.5 million-acre East Mojave National Park (map), 70 wilderness areas and, all told, protects the largest parcel of land outside Alaska. But the act does something else. “It proves,” says Jon Roush, president of The Wilderness Society, “that you can pass a megapiece of environmental legislation in this Congress.”
The journey from dream to law began, appropriately enough, during a twilight walk through the desert town of Barstow, Calif., on July 4, 1976. Peter Burk, a 30-year-old social worker, turned to his wife, Joyce, and vowed that the Mojave, then only loosely protected federal land, would one day be designated a national park. By the early 1980s, the Burks had been joined in their crusade by dozens of environmental groups, from the Sierra Club to the California Native Plant Society. National-park status, they believed, was the only way to protect the desert from off-road-vehicles (ORVs) that scarred the dunes, from mining that left poisonous tailings, from grazing cattle that ground endangered species into the dust, from a federal Bureau of Land Management that winked at violations of land-use laws. On the other side stood miners, ranchers and ORVers who didn’t want a bunch of elitist enviros telling them what they could do. “This is nothing more than a massive land grab by the environmental community,” argues Jim Bramham of the California Four-Wheel-Drive Association.
But the staunchest opponent of the park has been the BLM, whose management of the desert has been called into doubt. One controversial decision came in 1983, when the agency allowed the resumption, after a nine-year moratorium, of the Barstow-to-Las Vegas motorcycle race. Because the desert is so unresilient-tracks of Conestoga wagons are still visible-the bike tracks will likely deface the land for centuries. Then, in 1989, The Wilderness Society documented hundreds of violations of the BLM’s own rules against mining and grazing. The BLM responded with a 23-page defense.
Enter, slowly, the desert tortoise. Listed as a threatened species in 1990, the reptiles were being crushed by cattle and joy-riding ORVers, environmentalists charged; saving the tortoise required getting these despoilers out of the desert, which in turn required national-park designation. Lobbyists lugged terrariums full of the reptiles to Capitol Hill, enchanting members. “They have done an excellent job portraying us as pillagers of the desert,” says ORV lobbyist Mike Ahrens. And, says former BLM official Gerry Hillier, if his people did such a bad job, how come the land is still in such good shape?
California Sen. Alan Cranston had introduced a desert bill in 1986, but it went nowhere. With the election of 1992, however, the endgame began. Clinton’s Interior secretary, Bruce Babbitt, made the bill a priority. California Sen. Dianne Feinstein had promised during her campaign to make the bill law, and she had to face the voters again in just two years. Throughout 1993 she met with the bill’s opponents; enviros complained that she shunned them for months. They began wondering how much she would deal away.
Just enough, it turned out. Did Sen. Sam Nunn, the powerful chairman of the Armed Services Committee, object to restrictions on the Pentagon’s fly-overs? Feinstein rewrote the bill to allow flight rights. Did Nevada Sen. Harry Reid worry about the loss of mining jobs? Working mines were gerrymandered out of the parks-to-be. Did Western senators resent the proposed ban on cattle grazing in the desert? Feinstein returned from a meeting with ranchers gushing about the “heritage that is the West”-and declared that grazing could continue. Was Harley-riding Sen. Ben Nighthorse Campbell sympathetic to cyclists? Feinstein provided for five more roads in the desert for bikers and others. “I wanted a bill [that] meets the needs of people who live and work in the desert,” Feinstein told NEWSWEEK. “I do not believe that the more than 60 amendments compromise its integrity.” Last month the Senate passed it by an overwhelming 69 to 29.
The National Rifle Association is still pushing to allow hunting in the Mojave, and other amendments may further weaken protection of the deserts. But House passage of the bill is almost ensured, as is Clinton’s signature this summer. Budget constraints will postpone visitors centers and campsites, and Interior can’t dispatch enough rangers to make sure the turf is respected. Visitors may not notice much difference in Joshua Tree, Death Valley and East Mojave. But motorcycle races will never again tear up the dunes and new mines will not scalp the badlands. The Mojave’s 760 wildlife species, from desert bighorns to chuckwallas, and a landscape that nature began sculpting when dinosaurs roamed the West, will endure.
