BLM wants Nine Mile Canyon on Historic Places list

ASSOCIATED PRESS




Nine Mile Canyon petroglyph.



SALT LAKE CITY — Federal officials want parts of Utah’s Nine Mile Canyon put on the National Register of Historic Places.

The canyon northeast of Price — sometimes called the world’s longest art gallery — is home to more than 10,000 ancient rock carvings and drawings.
Bureau of Land Management officials plan to nominate the area for the national designation.

The paperwork will probably be submitted in the next four to six months, said Byron Loosle, BLM’s state archaeologist.

The nomination will include about 800 sites in the canyon, including parts of public and private land. Some private landowners in the area have asked not to be included and won’t be in the proposal, Loosle said.

The BLM hopes to group the sites together under a single nomination.

The decision comes as the BLM considers a proposal to allow more than 800 new wells on a plateau above the canyon.

The plan has come under fire over concerns that increased natural gas activity will dramatically increase the number of trucks driving through the canyon. Some worry extra dust kicked up by the trucks will jeopardize the rock art.

Listing on the National Register is an honorific designation and wouldn’t add additional protections for the petroglyphs and pictographs.

Advocates for the canyon have been pushing for historic designation for years.

Pam Miller, chair of the Nine Mile Coalition, said she’s glad to see the BLM finally making the move.

“It’s a gold star moment,” Miller said. The designation would be a recognition “that Nine Mile Canyon played a significant part in the history of Utah and even the United States.”

She’s hoping the listing could also lead to funds to help preserve cultural artifacts in the canyon.

The BLM will make the nomination in cooperation with the Utah State Historic Preservation Office.

The National Register is administered by the National Park Service. The BLM says about 30,000 properties are added to the list each year.

BLM: so much area to cover, so little time

BLM battles bullets, trail cutting, motorcycles, cherry bombs to stop “trashing of America”

Along the Trail
By David McNeill
Mammoth Times

I was out on the Chalk Bluffs near Bishop over the Martin Luther King holiday, and was surprised at what I saw. Just a week earlier I had observed about 10 people blowing off M-80 firecrackers in the rocks for hours. It was unnerving to say the least and ruined a good hike. On this day things got way out of control. The parking areas were full with 50 carloads of rock climbers at the bottom of the Bluffs. Cars were coming into the top entrance of Sad Boulders all day long, where there is very little parking. That increased the chance for damage to the brush all along the road from overflow.

Things were going about how they usually do on a holiday weekend in winter at the Chalk Bluffs, as I climbed up onto the big petroglyph panel called Sky Rock. I heard some motorcycles in the distance and didn't think too much of it, since there are roads out there. The next thing I knew, four guys on motorcycles were illegally going cross-country across the fragile high desert land. That was the first time I have ever seen anything like that in 30 years of hiking out there. It is common to see a solo track here or there on the Volcanic Tableland from some outlaw rider, but never a team effort. Of course I ran after them, and of course they got away. I phoned up law enforcement officer Mike Hubbard at the Bishop BLM office, and he invited me to come down and do a story on what they face out in the “wild west” with so much area to cover and so little time.

The Eastern Sierra is an off road paradise that is unsurpassed in beauty and different types of terrain. Despite this wonderful asset, there are still outlaw riders, who defy the rules and rough ride over the land. It is vicious and a number one problem for BLM, as careless Off Highway Vehicle people continue to erode the land foot by foot each year. This is the problem that Mike and his partner in Lone Pine, Ron Stormo, face each day trying to patrol an area 750,000 acres in size that extends from Cartago in the south northward to Topaz Lake, a stretch of nearly 250 miles. This is an area of diverse desert landscapes, volcanic rock and hot springs in Long Valley near Mammoth Lakes.

About 10 years ago, Mick Ryan and other climbers from the Eastern Sierra started advertising in magazines, guidebooks and the Internet that Bishop, Calif., was the new place to go for bouldering and rock climbing. Things had tightened up down in Waco Tanks in El Paso due to archaeological site damage from the climbers, and they were looking for new territory to establish. As thousands of people converged on Bishop to climb in a Haight-Ashbury type movement, BLM, Los Angeles Dept. of Water and Power and the U.S. Forest Service had to react quickly with trail systems, signs, parking barriers, toilets and increased law enforcement. For BLM this was all extra work that the two overburdened law enforcement officers and the recreation department inherited.

To keep people centrally located instead of camping all over the place, Mike, along with geologist Cheryl Seth, helped set up a campground called the Pit in an old borrow pit that was used for the Pleasant Valley Dam construction. This was a perfect location for the campground and an excellent choice. The Pit is wintertime camping only and a great deal at $2 per day, including a host. There is no water and the fees cover the cost of the toilets, trash collection and recycle bins. Climbers were driving all over the place damaging brush, and the recreation department had to place barriers and configure parking areas. At the same time all the petroglyph and archaeological sites had to be identified and protected as best as could be done. Currently, the recreation department headed by Diana Pietrasanta, has six employees who work hard to do as much resource protection as they can.

Another difficult area for BLM to manage is the hot springs and tubs in Long Valley as Wild Willys and Travertine near Bridgeport. Since Hot Creek is still closed, there has been increased use at the BLM tubs. One trail counter at Wild Willys hot tub recorded 30,000 visitors in one year, an astounding number of people going to a small area in one year. That is why the BLM and USFS installed a quarter-mile-long boardwalk to protect the sensitive ground out there.

Archaeological site vandalism has been going on for a long time in the Eastern Sierra. People drive out on ATVs and dig up the rock rings where the ancient people had their shelters. Thankfully the petroglyph target shooting practice has subsided, but people are still picking off pieces of petroglyphs and pictographs, at the same time picking away the pieces of our great land's heritage.

Mike and Ron have been staying on top of another situation involving partying high school kids at a place called the Quarry on top of the Chalk Bluffs. It is the usual stupid situation that many of us did as high school kids — throwing beer cans, breaking glass, making huge fires and leaving them burning. Mike picked up 500 beer cans after one night's party and plastic protectors from liquor bottles. Very clever how they get those bottles out of the store. There is a lot of potential for trouble out there from fires to vehicle accidents and underage drinking.

A change of the guard will be coming for both Mike Hubbard and Ron Stormo — Ron retires in April, Mike in December. Mike ends a long productive career that started as a firefighter after graduating from Humboldt State with a B.A. in wildlife management and outdoor planning. When a job opened up in the Eastern Sierra, he jumped on it. He grew up in Garden Grove in Southern California and vacationed with his family in the Eastern Sierra in the 60s. In 1988, he got a job with BLM as a law enforcement officer. Ron Stormo is also an ex-firefighter, former Hot Shot and worked for the park service. He lives down in Lone Pine and keeps the southern end under control.

It is hard to replace these guys, who have vast amounts of experience and common sense. They will be missed when they pass the baton. They will do everything they can to break in the new officers and give them a good orientation to their new duty station in the most beautiful place on Earth: the Eastern Sierra.

The BLM office in Bishop is very down home and public service oriented. Under the capable leadership of Bill Dunkelberger, all the staff are always accommodating to any valid concern that the public might have. When I have had a concern about some land use issue, they always met with me and never blew me off. They gave me an opportunity to talk about it and that means a lot to me. So they encourage you to keep your eyes on the long falling skies, and don't let our land get hurt. If you see something that isn't cool, they welcome you to give them a buzz. They rely upon us to do our part as good stewards of the land and to take part in the protection of it. Do your part to help stop the trashing of America.

David McNeill has lived in Bishop since 1974, working for the Water District and the Forest Service for most of that time. At home in the wilderness, he does a lot of hiking with Windy, his Springer spaniel. With a taste for writing he explored during stints at Mammoth's Channel 5 and the Mono Herald, he has a drawer full of stories.

In the Desert, Ancient Signs

National Park Service archaeologist David Nichols hikes through the Mojave National Preserve.

New York Times
By STEPHEN REGENOLD


On the northern border of a vast desert preserve, halfway up a dusty hillside and overlooking a great forest of Joshua trees, David Nichols knelt to brush off a flat gray stone.

"Yep, this is one right here," he said, motioning toward a sheet of exposed bedrock. A group of small, closely spaced stones, like tiny turrets in the sand, formed a vague ring at his feet. "These supposedly kept the rodents out."

Mr. Nichols, one of two full-time research archaeologists employed at Mojave National Preserve, was showing off a recent discovery. On a nondescript hill, a quarter-mile off a four-wheel-drive dirt track, the remnants of a prehistoric way of life lay scattered in the sand.

Throughout Mojave National Preserve, a 1.6 million-acre park about 140 miles northeast of Los Angeles, the subtle traces of a bygone civilization are all around. Pictographs painted on cave walls, dart tips in the sand, shelters, fire rings and pottery shards are common in the area, where generations of prehistoric people lived and died. Indeed, Mojave National Preserve is an amateur archaeologist's dream, with undocumented sites open year-round for visitors to explore in the empty, undeveloped park.

The Drying Pallet Site, as Mr. Nichols has come to call his new hillside finding, features 21 limestone slabs encircled with rocks that were carefully placed hundreds of years ago. The indigenous people, Mr. Nichols told his small tour group, used the sunny protected rock platforms to prepare Joshua tree blossoms.

"It was dried like beef jerky," he said of the white blossoms, which each spring still daub the land below in one of the world's largest and densest forests of Joshua trees. "Food in the desert was dried for preservation; it was the only way."

Mr. Nichols, a 39-year-old Los Angeles native, has discovered more than 50 significant sites since coming to work for the park in 2001. The Drying Pallet Site was identified just four months ago. Dozens of others, he said, most likely pepper the preserve's hills and canyons.

In recent years, noteworthy findings, including pictograph-packed caves, have been discovered by visiting hikers and amateur archaeologists. But while the park staff encourages people to explore the backcountry, collecting artifacts or disturbing historical sites in any way is forbidden. Take only photographs, leave only footprints, as the axiom goes.

Rangers at Mojave National Preserve do not provide directions to most documented archaeological locations, though some staff members and volunteers, including Mr. Nichols, may give clues. "We call Mojave a 'discovery park,' " Mr. Nichols said of the Delaware-size preserve, which has only 30 miles of established hiking trails. "I might suggest features to look for in the hills, but people are on their own to get off trail and see what they can find."

The official park map is nearly devoid of references to archaeology, as is the park's Web site. Signage is scant. Tours are limited to an occasional offering from California State University, Fullerton, which operates its research-oriented Desert Studies Center in the park.

Mr. Nichols's recent tour was a rare occasion, as he leads fewer than 10 trips a year, primarily to educate fellow park staff members or visiting researchers. His tours are not available to the general public.

Like most activities in Mojave National Preserve, exploring the park for uncharted archaeology is a do-it-yourself adventure. Visitors coming to see petroglyphs and arrowheads need to plan ahead, researching the area's history and culture to become educated on where to start the hunt. Visitors also need to be prepared for an immersion in the desert wilderness — snakes, scorpions, sun, heat and all.

Mojave National Preserve is the meeting place of three great North American deserts: the Great Basin, the Sonoran and its namesake Mojave. The area is a vast hinterland of dunes and cinder cones, tumbleweed plains, mesas and mountain forests. Turquoise deposits brought journeying Anasazi to the area hundreds of years ago.

Temperatures are extreme all year, with cold nights and blazing days. Elevations range from 800 feet to higher than 7,000 feet. It is exceedingly arid, with some parts of the park seeing only three inches of rain in a year.

Yet life thrives, as it has for thousands of years, among the Joshua trees and juniper. Quail, hummingbirds, mule deer, bighorn sheep, roadrunners, coyotes, badgers, rattlers, sidewinders and giant centipedes share a dry, dusty habitat. Sagebrush, creosote and yucca dot the land. Golden eagles and red-tailed hawks swoop above in the desert thermals.

Human habitation is limited to a few park staff members and a handful of land owners whose private ranches were grandfathered in when the preserve was created in October 1994. Mr. Nichols lives in a small green trailer in the middle of the park, Edward Abbey-style, with a water tank on the roof and no indoor plumbing, though with satellite Internet and HBO.

At the second stop of the day, deep in the park's interior and not too far from Mr. Nichols's green trailer, the small tour group walked two miles across the desert. A rocky flat-top ridge was in the distance. Barrel cactuses and yuccas grew sparsely on the red-brown landscape. Rocks and sand stretched to the horizon.

A slight hill dead-ended at a cliff, and Mr. Nichols stopped to look up. The rock wall above, a gray, disintegrating mass, held a mosaic of tiny dancing figures.

"Wow, look at these petroglyphs!" said Mary Ann Guggemos, a 48-year-old park volunteer from Buffalo. Carved in a veneer of rust-brown desert varnish were the depictions of bighorn sheep, masked human figures and male stickpeople with no necks but fingers and small phallic appendages. Concentric circles dotted the stone. Diamonds, ovals, a square, pits, grooves and other abstract images hovered nearby.

The Pinto House Site, as this find has come to be known, was inhabited by ancestral Mojaves or Chemehuevi, according to Mr. Nichols, and they lived and worshiped in the dusty dwelling. Pottery shards mixed with small stones and animal dung in the dirt. A faint ring of rocks encircled a small shrub. Eleven slick metates, worn stone pallets used for grinding piñon seeds, acorns, juniper berries and other grains, sat under the overhanging rock face. And the assemblage of petroglyphs looked down upon it all.

"The sacred and the mundane were mixed in this culture," Mr. Nichols said, standing beside rock rings and milling stones. He said the etchings above were probably made during a ceremony, perhaps dreams manifested and scratched on a wall. "They didn't go to a church to worship," he said.

A hawk hovered in a wind gust above the cliff face. Petroglyph men stared down four modern-day visitors. The Pinto House Site, a bare forgotten diorama, cradled a human presence once again. Dust kicked up, and a second hawk moved into the updraft, paralleling its mate, two desert beings silhouetted and still on a pale blue sky.

Large blaze in Mojave National Preserve destroys 67,000 acres

San Francisco Chronicle - San Francisco, CA

Kelso, Calif. (AP) -- Mild winds and steep terrain have helped slow a 67,000-acre wildfire in a southeastern California wilderness preserve that destroyed five homes and two cabins built in the late 1800s, officials said Sunday.

Firefighters had surrounded most of the blaze, which was 65 percent contained in the Mojave National Preserve. They made good progress after a cold front moved in with winds that were not as strong as expected, said Capt. Greg Cleveland, a spokesman with the Southern California Incident Management Team.

"The weather today helped out a lot," Cleveland said. "It was still hot but the winds were mild. And the humidity was still low but it wasn't down in the single digits."

Officials expected the fire to be 100 percent contained by 6 p.m. Monday.

The large fire formed after lightning sparked five separate blazes Wednesday afternoon near the Nevada state line. Those eventually merged and were burning at the edges of critical territory for the threatened desert tortoise. A federal biologist walked the burned area Saturday to determine how the fire had affected the animals, but did not find any live or dead tortoises, officials said.

More than 900 firefighters working in rocky terrain were battling the blaze in an area north of Interstate 40 and south of Interstate 15. It was fueled by grass, sagebrush, juniper and pinyon pine stands made unusually dense by heavy winter rains. Six trailers or other structures also were destroyed.

The fire scorched sections of the preserve containing historic mines and sites of ancient Indian pictographs, but the extent of the damage to such places was unknown.

"It definitely burned into a lot of those areas," Cleveland said.

Evacuations were maintained Sunday in the Round Valley and Fourth of July Canyon areas, where about a dozen people had residences, officials said.