
TUCSON, Arizona
— When Chris Wallace hikes on Mount Lemmon, she finds a
source of spiritual strength. The Tucson legal secretary says she
connects with her inner self on the mountain, as well as with the
resident plants and animals. “I feel joy at being in nature, almost
like it gives me power,” says the 57-year-old Wallace, a member of
the Unitarian Universalist Church. “I can feel down, and when I go
to the mountain, I feel encouraged.”
The Forest Service,
no mystic, charges hikers like Wallace $5 a day. Mount Lemmon in
Coronado National Forest is one of more than 4,000 sites on the
West’s national forests where daily fees are collected, with
the money going toward upkeep and maintenance. But Wallace and
others in the growing no-fee movement say they have already paid to
use public lands — in the form of income taxes. They argue
that trailhead fees amount to double taxation.
So, in
2002, Wallace stopped paying to park near her favorite trailheads.
The Forest Service first warned her, then cited her. Finally, it
took her to court.
In September, however, Judge Charles
Pyle tossed out the criminal charges against Wallace, ruling that
the government can’t charge people to park at trailheads. If
the federal magistrate’s ruling stands, the Forest Service
may have to stop charging fees altogether, or limit them to
developed sites such as picnic areas, says Coronado District Ranger
Larry Raley. And that, he says, could deal a near-fatal blow to the
program that requires people to “pay to play” on public lands.
The fee controversy began about a decade ago, when
Congress approved a pilot program allowing federal agencies to
impose user fees to raise money for a huge maintenance backlog.
Opponents say such fees undermine the very definition of public
lands and close them off to lower-income hikers and campers. Fees
are OK at campgrounds and other developed areas, they say, but not
for simple access to hike or hunt — particularly when the
typical $5 fee for a day hike is more than double what a rancher
pays to graze a cow on the same land for a month.
But
federal land managers warn that axing the program could force
maintenance cutbacks or outright closure of picnic areas, toilets
and other facilities. Fees now bring in an estimated $40 million a
year nationally. At Mount Lemmon and neighboring Sabino Canyon, for
example, the Forest Service nets about $850,000 a year.
“Money collected from that area goes for picnic tables, bearproof
containers and upgrading the restrooms,” says Raley. “If we no
longer have that, we need to look at the program and decide how
that work will get done.”
Even if user fees were charged
only at designated areas, cutting user revenue in half, it would
make a substantial difference in the agency’s ability to
maintain its facilities, Raley says, especially given the recent
congressional tendency to slash funds for such purposes.
“Facilities will continue to deteriorate unless additional funding
comes from somewhere else,” he says.
Wallace, who has
hiked on Mount Lemmon for 35 years, paid the fees for the
program’s first five years. Then, after leaders of an
anti-fee group spoke at her church, she decided to stop paying.
Nothing happened the first 12 times she hiked; then she received
four or five warning notices. In September 2005, the Forest Service
cited her twice.
The year before she received those
citations, however, the law governing them had changed. The
original Recreational Fee Demonstration Program expired in 2004,
and was replaced that year by the Federal Lands Recreation
Enhancement Act. FLREA extended the program for another 10 years,
but limited its scope. Agencies could no longer charge “solely for
parking, undesignated parking or picnicking along roads or
trailsides.” They also couldn’t charge for general access to
public lands, traveling without using facilities, camping at
undeveloped or dispersed sites or stopping at pullouts. Fee
opponents felt they had new legal ammunition.
The Justice
Department argued that the Mount Lemmon fees are for use of a
recreation area that meets specific guidelines, not just for
parking space. The Forest Service has classified the top 28 miles
of the two-lane road winding up the peak as a “High Impact
Recreation Area,” one of 98 nationally.
But in his
ruling, Judge Pyle mocked that logic: “Applying the
government’s reasoning, while the driver of a car may legally
park her car within the HIRA, she cannot get out of her car without
paying a fee. With the possible exception of amorous teenagers, the
concept of parking one’s car but not getting out to enjoy the
fresh air and take in the beautiful sights is just not a
commonplace occurrence.”
Wallace says the public reaction
to her case has been gratifying. Supporters from around the country
have donated $2,500 toward a legal defense fund.
The
Forest Service is appealing Pyle’s ruling. In the meantime,
however, it has stopped citing hikers on Mount Lemmon who
don’t pay fees. And the no-fee movement is encouraged: “The
Forest Service has not carried out the law. We’ve hesitated
until now to use the word illegal, because only the courts can
decide what is legal,” says Kitty Benzar, co-founder of the Western
Slope No-Fee Coalition, based in Durango, Colo. “But I now feel
free to use the word ‘illegal’ in regard to Mount
Lemmon.”
Tony Davis is an environmental
reporter for the Arizona Daily
Star.
This article appeared in the print edition of the magazine with the headline Fed up with paying to play.

