Public Lands Threatened

Sunset in the Potrillo Mountains, part of the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument in New Mexico.

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In late February, Ellen and I hiked into Aravaipa Canyon in the heart of Arizona’s Aravaipa Wilderness (BLM). A clear stream, unusual in the desert, flowed beneath cottonwood trees, leafed out to gather early-season Arizona sunshine. We disturbed a coati in one of them—it crept slowly to the ground and disappeared surprisingly quickly and a little comically into riparian vegetation. After a fun day of walking and exploring, we set up our tent under volcanic cliffs beside the stream and enjoyed miso soup, freeze-dried dinners, shortbread cookies, and a warm quiet evening under bright stars.

Volcanic cliffs above a side canyon in the Aravaipa Wilderness photographed during a February backpacking trip.

In mid-February, we car-camped with friends on the rim of the Kilbourne Hole, a volcanic maar crater in a remote part of the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument. We’d spent the day finding petroglyphs and evidence of Pleistocene mammals near a volcanic cone. Our campsite commanded a view across the crater to the Riley Peaks, three high points in the Potrillo Mountains, one of several desert ranges in the Monument. The site had clearly been enjoyed by ORV users, and we spoke with two friendly guys from El Paso in a side-by-side when they stopped to enjoy the view. They were originally from Quebec, and it was surprising to hear French so close to the Mexican border.

Ellen with our friends Steve and Beth Buskirk on the rim of the Kilbourne Hole in the Organ Peaks-Desert Mountains National Monument. February 2025.

Earlier in February, we camped with our Laramie friend, Ed Sherline, in the Uva Mountains near the end of his bikepacking trip around the Desert Peaks. He'd covered sixty miles a day for five days circumnavigating much of the Monument and was feeling (and looking) a little grizzled when we met him on his last night. It was cold at night, but sunrise behind the Organs merited an early wake-up to enjoy layers of mountains and haze in the morning light. 

The Organ Mountains at sunrise taken from a camp in the Uva Mountains.

Those are just three of many experiences I had on public lands in February. My life and the lives of many of my friends have been enriched by these lands for well over a half century. Going back further, my father's family loved the West, and tales of their trips from Dearborn, Michigan to the Tetons in the 1940s drew me to them starting in the late-1970s, changing the course of my life. How many American family histories have been influenced by our federal lands? How many of our lives have been changed?

My father, Ed, and his mother, Nelle, on a trip west from Michigan in the 1940s to visit Grand Teton National Park, at that time less than twenty years old. The photo was probably taken by my grandfather, Ken.

In the U.S. today, few issues are nonpartisan, but protection of public lands unites people from across the political spectrum. The freedom to vacation in National Parks, explore National Monuments, hunt and fish in National Forests, birdwatch in Wildlife Refuges, or wander through remote BLM lands is fundamental to our way of life, yet we win public land battles, never the war. Who are the legislators braying loudly for the sale or transfer of federal (our) lands even while their constituents (we) object?

Ultimately, they are driven by special interests that benefit from reduced regulations so that they can more easily exploit our lands for their profit, meaning that it’s worth their while to contribute campaign funds and pay lobbyists. Oil and gas, mining, timber, and large corporate agricultural interests profit while the rest of us stand to lose our heritage, our primary means of recreation, and our avenue for enjoying the open spaces about which Westerners, including many of those trying to take them away, wax poetic with stories of free-roaming cowboys and Big Sky Country. 

In 2024, Utah filed a lawsuit at the U.S. Supreme Court that would have required the federal government to sell or “dispose of” more than 18 million acres of our public lands in Utah despite Utah’s agreement upon being granted statehood to “forever disclaim all right and title” to federal public lands. Twelve states supported this attempt even in the face of broad opposition by the public, but many did not. Martin Heinrich, a U.S. Senator from New Mexico, where I live now, stood against this, declaring, "We must stand united against this un-American land grab to ensure that our public lands remain accessible and protected for future generations. Our public lands are not for sale. Full stop." Thankfully, early this year, the Supreme Court declined to hear the case, a battle won while the war continues.

Ellen and our friend, Bay, admiring pictographs in the Bears' Ears National Monument established by Obama, shrunk by Trump, re-grown by Biden, and now vulnerable again. Of course, before Europeans, all lands in N. America were public. Cultural resources like these pictographs deserve to remain protected.

The Wyoming legislature was one of the supporters of Utah’s suit. I lived in Wyoming for nearly 45 years and spent countless weeks in its spectacular public lands along with many of my fellow Wyomingites of all political stripes. Recently, Wyoming legislators tried to pass a resolution transferring much of the federal land in Wyoming to the State. Fortunately, this resolution was defeated even in one of the reddest states in the U.S. underlining bipartisan support for protection of public land. Other efforts in Wyoming this year attempted to limit the right of private landowners to transfer land or land rights to the federal government. Many supporters of these measures in the Wyoming House are members of the Freedom Caucus. WTF?

Sunrise in the Honeycomb Buttes--BLM land in Wyoming's Red Desert. 2013.

Public lands continue to be threatened. NPS, BLM, USFS, and U.S. FWS employees are being fired, National Monument boundaries are in jeopardy, and special interests advocate for sale or transfer of our land. Many across our political spectrum are fighting these threats, but many others are complicit, and the war is never won. We can help by writing letters, attending rallies, donating funds, volunteering, and voting. Don’t let the few take away or degrade lands that belong to us all.

Gated and posted private ranchland adjacent to the Gila National Forest in New Mexico. Private landowners have the right to keep people off of their land, but we don't want our public lands to become private and locked away from us.

Visiting Paquime in Chihuahua, Mexico

The ruin of Paquime near Nuevo Casas Grandes in Chihuahua, Mexico.

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In December 2001, not long before we became parents, Ellen and I drove from Laramie, Wyoming to El Potrero Chico, just north of Monterrey, Mexico to rock climb, and then we continued across northern Mexico to the city of Chihuahua before reentering the U.S. south of Marfa, Texas. At that time, travel in the Mexican borderlands felt safe, and we enjoyed exploring small towns and the big city of Chihuahua. I still remember a misty and chilly sunrise in Parral (a town along the way) with views to the southwest into intriguing mountains that are now a no-go due to cartel activity. 

Today, the U.S. State Department advises Americans to “reconsider” travel to Chihuahua due to crime and kidnapping, including the danger of violent gang activity, but there are relatively safe corridors and destinations, so last March (2024) a group of us organized a trip with Luis Benavadiz, a guide from The Pink Store in Puerto Palomas, a Mexican border town south of Silver City, to Nuevo Casas Grandes, near the famous ruins of Paquime. We’d wanted to see Paquime for years because of its importance in Southwestern archaeology, and although we probably could have driven ourselves, Luis made the trip less stressful and showed us places along the way that we would have missed on our own. And we breezed past Federale checkpoints that might have been less friendly to a bunch of gringos. 

Paquime was an important political center that peaked after Chaco Canyon and other northern settlements were abandoned in the 12^th century A.D. At the height of its importance, it may have been home to as many as 10,000 people, but by 1450 it was mostly abandoned. Paquime had a substantial number of enclosures for raising Scarlet macaws which were ritualistically important throughout Ancestral Puebloan societies far to the north. The Edge of the Cedars Museum in Blanding, Utah, for example, has a beautiful macaw feather sash in its collections that was found in the Abajo Mountains of SE Utah. Paquime may have had political influence over a large area, though there is debate about its extent. 
 
Luiz stuck to a choreographed 2-day plan on our trip, effortlessly herding us around. On the first day, we visited Mata Ortiz, south of Nuevo Casas Grandes to see (and hopefully buy) the pottery that they are famous for thanks to a nearby clay deposit. I was more interested in the town than the pots, so I slipped out of potters’ houses to photograph buildings, but enough of our group bought pottery to make the visit worthwhile for the potters and, I imagine, Luiz. We also visited the once opulent but now run-down Hacienda de San Diego, a sprawling ranch off the beaten track once owned by Luis Terrazas, the richest man in Chihuahua. In its heyday, it housed many workers, but most of the buildings are now in disrepair. 
 
The second day was mostly spent at the sprawling Paquime ruin, our main objective, but we also visited a neatly trimmed Mormon settlement with tidy houses and fenced lawns. Mormons escaping the ban on polygamy in the 1890s established colonies in Chihuahua, and Luiz said that many of the residents are now successful businesspeople who commute regularly between Salt Lake City and Nuevo Casas Grandes. By late on the second day, we returned to Puerto Palomas, walked across the border, and retrieved our cars from the dusty parking lot beside a Dollar General to return to Silver City.

There are many other temptations in Chihuahua, including the massive Copper Canyon, home of the Tarahumara people, known for their running prowess, and intriguing smaller but less visited ruins, not to mention the endless obscure mountain ranges hiding who-knows-what. Although unimportant compared to the impact of cartels on the lives of many Mexicans, it's heartbreaking to live so close to Mexico and not feel safe enough to explore there. But prudence suggests waiting and hoping that borderland tourism gets safer while we’re still spry enough to wander.

Peach trees (Mormon?) in an orchard along the highway. There are substantial Mormon settlements in Chihuahua originally established by fundamentalists escaping the U.S. ban on polygamy in the 1890s. Mitt Romney has family ties here.

An old store in Mata Ortiz, south of Nuevo Casas Grandes. This town is famous for its exquisite pottery, but I was more interested in walking the streets to look at buildings.

Another building in Mata Ortiz.

A screen door in Mata Ortiz.

Bottle caps above a doorway in Mata Ortiz. Why?

Another Mata Ortiz house.

Abandoned workers' quarters at the Hacienda de San Diego.

A vaquero's rope hangs outside an enclosed corral.

One of the workers' quarters.

An old tree beside workers' quarters at the Hacienda.

Graffiti in an Hacienda doorway.

Paquime after excavation and restoration. The site covers a large area near the Casas Grandes river. Many Ancestral Puebloans may have migrated here after the collapse of the Chaco polity.

Luiz Benavadiz, our guide for the trip, at Paquime. He was funny, friendly, and knowledgeable. Luiz runs trips out of The Pink Store in Puerto Palomas.

Scarlet macaw breeding pens (but see comment below on macaws) at Paquime. Evidence suggests that these macaws did not lead happy lives. Macaw feathers are found over a vast area of Mesoamerica and the U.S. Southwest suggesting ritual importance.