Like many Westerners,
I grew up with the luxury of unlimited adventure outdoors. I could
wander around, fishing rod in hand, looking for the next hidden
pond near my family’s cabin in northern Colorado.
That was before I began working in the San Juan Mountains of
southwest Colorado as a mountain guide for a kids’ camp.
I’ll never forget the first time I ran across a
copper-colored creek in the Animas River watershed. I stopped and
stared because it was strangely beautiful at first. I failed to
grasp that the water had turned that brilliant color because acid
waste was draining into it from a mine abandoned at the turn of the
century. Certainly, no trout could survive in those waters, and I
could only guess how far down the mountain the stream carried its
poison.
But I’ve never been opposed to mining, and
I understand how the Gold Rush of the late 1800s helped define the
state I was born in. Mining for metals brought people, towns and
railroads, leading President Ulysses Grant to declare Colorado a
state in 1876.
But while Colorado is undeniably still
tied to mining, times have changed, and the General Mining Law of
1872 that gives mining priority over all other land uses is way
past due for revision. Fully recognizing that this outdated law is
to blame for much of the damage to our public lands, many of
America’s sportsmen have set their sights on reforming the 1872
law.
The issue is no less critical for hunters than it is
for anglers. More than 80 percent of the most critical habitat for
elk, for example, is found on lands managed by the Forest Service
and the Bureau of Land Management. Pronghorn, sage grouse, mule
deer, salmon, steelhead, and countless other fish and wildlife
species are similarly dependent on public lands. Our public lands
in the West also contain well over 50 percent of the nation’s
blue-ribbon trout streams and are strongholds for imperiled trout
and salmon.
Though congressional reform never seems to go
the distance, last November marked a milestone: The Hardrock Mining
and Reclamation Act of 2007 passed the House of Representatives
244-166, and was a huge victory for hunters and anglers. The bill
was strongly supported by a coalition called Sportsmen United for
Sensible Mining, made up of organizations and individual grassroots
partners and spearheaded by the National Wildlife Federation, the
Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, and Trout Unlimited.
Now, it’s the Senate’s turn, and as the issue
gains momentum, sportsmen in the West want to make sure the bill
retains four principles that will make all the difference in the
world to fish and other wildlife:
*Allow reclamation
incentives and common-sense liability relief to those “good
Samaritans” who buy or own land damaged by mining. Companies
and nonprofit organizations that didn’t create the problems
created by abandoned mines or their waste need to be encouraged to
return the land to other uses while being protected against
unreasonable liabilities.
*Prohibit the patenting or sale
of public lands under this law. Since 1872, public lands have been
practically given away to mining companies for as little as $2.50
to $5 per acre. Our wildlife needs public land to survive, and
reform should prohibit the sale of that land.
*Create a
royalty from any minerals taken from public lands to fund fish and
wildlife conservation programs and reclamation of mined land.
Sportsmen for over a century have been paying to play on public
land; it’s time mining companies paid their share.
*Strengthen protections for fish, wildlife and water resources from
the impacts of mining. This can be done by entrusting federal land
managers with the authority to ensure reclamation of mining sites
and to approve or deny mining permits based on environmental
impacts.
Will these changes help fish and wildlife
habitat in the years to come? Absolutely. That’s why so many
people who love the outdoors and wildlife want this ancient mining
law finally brought into the 21st century.
Lew
Carpenter is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a service of
High Country News (hcn.org). He lives in Boulder, Colorado, where
he is outreach coordinator for the National Wildlife
Federation.
Republish our articles for free, online or in print, under a Creative Commons license.
