Following a two-day drive from my home on the shores of Puget Sound, I arrive in Wyoming just before sunset and find myself in awe of the landscape; the rolling hills, prairie, and mountains in the distance offer a starkly different landscape than that of my home in Western Washington. I’m here for a week-long hunting trip, targeting white-tailed deer, Hungarian partridge, and sharp-tailed grouse. It’s my first time in Wyoming, and I’m going to soak up every minute of it.
The next morning, my hunting partner and I connect with a local rancher to gain some intel on where he’s been seeing whitetails, what portions of the ranch are closed to our hunting pursuits, and—for me being new to hunting here—to get acquainted before wandering around his property with a firearm.
I introduce myself; we discuss hunting opportunities while we help herd cattle between pastures and remove porcupine quills from the snout of a curious calf. Eventually, our conversation carries over to the changing landscape around the ranch. Being new to the area, I’m quite interested in this topic so I can better understand what I am seeing in the valley below.
The rancher notes the several ranches that have been converted from pasture and alfalfa fields to large lot housing in recent years. He expresses concern about the water demands for these new subdivisions—all with large, green lawns in a semi-arid landscape—and the economic pressure he and his neighboring ranchers are feeling with the increasing value of their land.
With grown children and grandchildren working off the ranch or pursuing an education that would lead them to careers outside of agriculture, he considers the future of his land. What if the value is now so high that another rancher simply cannot afford to purchase it?
Sadly, the outcome of these quandaries is a well-trodden road. A rancher retires, and no other rancher—family or otherwise—can afford the land. The rancher sells their land to a developer who converts it to housing. Once that happens, much of the ecological and economic benefits of that land are lost.
A Disappearing Resource
Deer that once roamed wooded draws and alfalfa pivots are now bedded next to the heat pump adjacent to the back deck, only to get up to browse the non-native fescue of subdivision lawns. The streams that once fed riparian wetlands are now running dry due to groundwater depletion caused by water demand for new homes. And the water quality of the river in the center of the valley declines due to increased stormwater contamination.
The US Department of Agriculture (USDA) has been tracking the number of farms and farmlands in production for decades, which has shown a steady decline in both the number of farms as well as in the number of acres farmed. Citing a 2022 survey, the Capital Press recently published an article that states that 142,000 farms and 20 million acres of farmland have been lost since 2017. That’s nearly 11,000 acres per day during that period.
How much space is that? That’s nearly the area the size of Bozeman, Montana, lost to subdivisions, warehouses, and highways every day. Or approximately the entire area of the state of South Carolina in farm and ranchland that was lost in just five years.
We all need places to live, and with many areas in the US facing a housing crisis, we need more housing to sustain communities. You can’t fault aging ranchers for selling their land to the highest bidder; they’ve stewarded that property for decades. They’re not the problem. But, given the negative impacts of converting these lands on wildlife and the broader environment, what alternatives should be considered to protect lands from conversion?
Addressing Dwindling Farm and Ranch Lands
First, government agencies offer a wide variety of grant funding opportunities to landowners to conserve and restore their lands. These grants, such as those offered by the Natural Resource Conservation Service (NRCS), can permanently protect farm and ranch lands, forestlands, and river corridors through the purchasing of conservation easements.
NRCS uses these grants, often with the help of land trusts, soil and water conservation districts, Native American tribes, and state and local agencies, to facilitate the acquisition of these easements, which compensate farmers and ranchers for the “development value” attributed to their land. Once the conservation easement is sold, the land may not be converted to a non-open space use, but may continue to be used for agriculture. The land is still owned by the farmer or rancher, and hunting and angling may continue (with their permission) after the easement is sold.
Funding for these conservation easements comes from the Farm Bill, a comprehensive piece of legislation passed by Congress every few years that allocates funds for the litany of NRCS grant programs. The most recent bill, passed in 2018, includes billions in funding for habitat restoration, agricultural best management practices, and land conservation. With that bill expiring in September 2024, Congress must take action to fund this critical work for farmers and ranchers, outdoor enthusiasts, and communities alike.
But what if funding doesn’t come together, or the terms of a conservation easement funded by NRCS or another agency doesn’t work for a landowner? What alternatives may a landowner consider?
In several counties in Washington, property owners may use a Transfer of Development Rights (TDR). How, does a TDR work? I asked Nicholas Bratt, TDR Program Manager for King County in Washington State, who has been leading efforts to adopt TDR policies in Washington for nearly two decades.
“Transfer of development rights is a market-based real estate tool that incentivizes growth in areas where it is desired while conserving land in areas where it is not,” Bratton said. “Through voluntary transactions, owners of rural lands sell the right to build homes on their properties—in the form of credits—to developers who use those credits to gain additional value in urban projects. In exchange for being issued development rights, landowners place conservation easements on their properties, permanently protecting them from development while retaining all other rights and uses.”
So, unlike government grants funding the purchase of conservation easements, TDR gives landowners the ability to realize the value of their development potential without having to convert their farm and ranchlands into subdivisions and warehouses resulting in the loss of habitat, ecosystem services, and recreation access. And instead of the resources coming from taxpayers, the farmer is selling their TDRs to a developer who needs the TDR credits to obtain building permits inside city limits. Thus, these are private transactions, no tax dollars required.
None of these policy options are a panacea. Protecting farms and other open spaces from conversion takes a combination of policies from international trade to local land use. However, hunters and anglers play a pivotal role in this conversation as active participants in the landscapes we recreate on as well as direct funders of conservation work.
To protect the lands we cherish for hunting and angling, we must continue to be advocates for conservation in Washington, DC as well as in statehouses across the US. To learn more about what is included in the Farm Bill, visit the USDA Farm Bill landing page here.
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