By Tommy Hough and Megan Flaherty
This Friday is Endangered Species Day, and this week San Diego Audubon is highlighting five local endangered birds that benefit from protections extended by the 1973 Endangered Species Act (ESA). In many cases, these endangered birds have seen their numbers rebound and populations saved as the result of the ESA which, unfortunately, has been subject to a number of recent enforcement rollbacks. So far we've featured the Ridgway's Rail, Least Bell's Vireo, and Golden Eagle.
Today, we spotlight one of the most endangered west coast shorebirds, the Western Snowy Plover, a small, six-inch bird with a sand-colored back, white belly, and black beak. Western Snowy Plovers typically nest directly on sandy beaches, and their preferred natural habitats are the flat, open shorelines and dunes of the Pacific coast, as well as the beaches of our local bays, lagoons, and river mouths.
Locally, some of the best places to view the Western Snowy Plover are San Elijo Lagoon Ecological Reserve in Encinitas, along the Silver Strand State Beach south of Coronado, and nearby the Tijuana River. As humans continue to build up to the waterline and further isolate habitat, these scattered areas of preserved beach and upland areas have become even more critical for the survival of this species.
Warmer ocean waters and non-native beach grasses also jeopardize the survival of the Western Snowy Plover, but the primary culprit may be your own two feet, and the beachgoing habits of your neighbors. Nesting season for the Western Snowy Plover corresponds with the height of summer when humans are on the beach, putting these already delicate birds under further stress.
Plovers lay their eggs in shallow depressions with loose sand and little cover. As a result, eggs are naturally threatened by high tides and weather, but it's the impact of humans on the beach walking, running, playing sports, and even driving off-road vehicles that does the most damage. Adult plovers will abandon their nests for lengthy periods if disturbed.
San Diego Audubon has enlisted the help of local students to create plover awareness signs which are posted at the Silver Strand State Beach. Learn more about our Sharing our Shores program here.
Help This Bird: The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service first listed the Western Snowy Plover as endangered in 1993, and while only about 500 of the birds remain between Los Angeles and the border with Mexico, that number would surely be less without ESA protections. Do your part and clean up trash and beach litter, keep your dogs leashed, and respect fences and signs to help ensure the survival of this little bird.
Fun Fact: Western Snowy Plover nests are called "scrapes." Male plovers press their chest into the sand and use their legs to scrape out a bowl shaped-depression, which are then lined with small pieces of shells, pebbles, kelp, driftwood, and other beach debris.
Western Snowy Plover photo by Mick Thompson, courtesy of Portland Audubon.
By Tommy Hough with Karina Ornelas and Megan Flaherty
With Friday, May 15, marking Endangered Species Day, this week the San Diego Audubon Society is highlighting endangered birds in San Diego County that benefit from the 1973 Endangered Species Act (ESA) and the resulting protection of habitat. In a number of cases, these endangered birds have seen their numbers rebound and species saved as a result of the ESA, which has regrettably seen a number of enforcement rollbacks over the last three years.
The Bell's Vireo is a songbird found throughout North America, but its Southern California subspecies, known as the Least Bell's Vireo (Vireo bellii pusillus), was listed as endangered by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in 1986 due to an ongoing loss of habitat in the region, primarily due to development of riparian habitats in canyons and coastal areas.
Least Bell's Vireo are small birds with short, rounded wings and straight, short bills, with a faint ring around their eyes. Their feathers are mostly gray with paler shades of gray running to white along their bellies. Adult species spend their day in small trees and dense shrubs along rivers and streams, relying on a diet of insects and spiders. Beginning in April, female Least Bell's Vireo lay four eggs up to four times per year, with young birds leaving their nest some 10 to 12 days after hatching.
Unfortunately, Least Bell's Vireo nests are typically found within two feet of the ground, which makes unhatched eggs and chicks particularly vulnerable to predation from cats, raccoons, rats, and coyotes, all of which are found near housing and business developments. Scrub jays, hawks, and snakes are also common natural predators.
Although they've been spotted as far north as Santa Clara County, the extraordinarily biodiverse set of habitats and open space in San Diego County remains home to the greatest number of Least Bell’s Vireo. A substantial number of the county’s population lives in the drainages of Camp Pendleton that make up the Santa Margarita River watershed, and the Otay Valley Regional Park offers some of the best, most accessible visibility opportunities. San Diego Audubon is working with the rangers here to improve habitat to benefit riparian species, as well as local pollinators.
Help This Bird: Since its classification as endangered in 1986, the Least Bell's Vireo population has increased from 291 pairs statewide, to 2,968 pairs in Southern California. But the Least Bell's Vireo needs the verdant riparian habitat of canyons and stream beds in coastal areas to survive. The ESA is capable of stopping or requiring modification of proposed developments in order to preserve habitat for this species, which is essential as their population is still so low that they are not safe from extinction.
Please contact your federal elected official and ask them to support conservation policy in Congress to incentivize coastal wetland protection and restoration for carbon storage in order to help the Least Bell's Vireo.
Fun Fact: As songbirds, the Least Bell's Vireo are known to be chatty and melodic, with male birds often signing up to 15 different varieties of song.
Least Bell's Vireo photo by Andy Reago and Chrissy McClarren, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
By Tommy Hough
When I was running for San Diego City Council in 2018, I knocked on thousands of doors in District 6.
One afternoon, when I was canvassing in Mira Mesa, I stopped by a house on Gold Coast Drive. When I asked the homeowner if there was anything going on in the neighborhood he was concerned about, he led me by the arm from his front door to his front yard, where we were promptly hit by flying gravel as a car drove by at less than 25 miles per hour. "This is my problem," he told me. He wasn't the first.
If you've driven on Gold Coast east of Camino Ruiz over the last dozen years, this anecdote probably doesn't surprise you. I first drove along Gold Coast some 17 years ago, shortly after I'd arrived in San Diego as part of the inaugural air staff at FM 94/9. Even then I remember remarking on how atrocious the road was – not just with potholes, but with cracks, gaps, bumps, asphalt patches upon patches, and intersections devolving into gravel pits.
I realize it's difficult to find a smooth drive in San Diego. Every neighborhood has their problem streets, but Gold Coast remains a potholed minefield where motorists are forced to drive like a slow-motion skier on a slalom run to avoid the worst parts, especially around the intersections at Westonhill and San Ramon. While not an unusually long stretch of road, it's a heavily-traveled arterial vital to our community and the commuters who drive to and from work in our city's economic engine every day. Gold Coast needs to be rebuilt now, in conjunction with the rebuild of Parkdale Ave. outlined in the city's Community Improvement Program (CIP) number B17188 (you can find other CIPs in District 6 here).
When I attended an informational meeting at the Mira Mesa Senior Center in the summer of 2018 to learn more about the proposal to rebuild Gold Coast Dr. and Parkdale Ave., the city's chief engineer noted with some amazement how bad Gold Coast had become, going so far as to mention his surprise that it hadn't already been rebuilt.
Again, no surprise on our end. Longtime Mira Mesa residents know the roadbed of Gold Coast Dr. and others were built quickly and on the cheap in the early 1970s, and failed long ago from a clear intrusion of water, bad drainage, and loose soils. All of these factors, plus the fact that much of Mira Mesa was rapidly, and unecologically, built upon naturally occurring vernal pools at the time of rapid construction beginning in 1970, have conspired to make Mira Mesa roads notoriously bad. But Gold Coast, one of the most heavily-used arterials in the community, has become the poster child for civic neglect. I made my case on this point in a Times of San Diego piece in February 2019.
I realize the city is looking at a very lean period over the upcoming months, maybe even years, due to the loss of tourism, TOT taxes, and convention revenue from the COVID-19 pandemic and the uncertainty over Proposition B, but it's critical the Capital Improvement Program B-17188 to rebuild Gold Coast Drive from Thanksgiving Lane to Camino Ruiz, and Parkdale Ave. from Mira Mesa Blvd. to Northrup Drive, be funded and moved forward as a priority in the 2021 budget. The decaying streets affect my neighbors' property values, even beyond the flying gravel, and puts extraordinary wear and tear on my neighbors' cars that can cost thousands of dollars a year to stay ahead of.
And it isn't just the residents. MTS buses use the otherwise narrow strip of Gold Coast throughout the day, and in normal times under non-pandemic conditions heavy San Diego Unified school buses deliver students to Salk Elementary School on Parkdale, and Wangenheim Middle School via Gold Coast throughout the school year.
To my earlier point, located as we are between the I-15 and I-805 freeways, our neighborhood streets and arterials like Mira Mesa Blvd., Capricorn, Flanders, Bootes, and Gold Coast bear the brunt of the daily nine-to-five commuter traffic as workers head to and from tech centers like Sorrento Valley and western Mira Mesa. I would ask Mayor Faulconer and San Diego City Council, in this 11th hour ahead of the unveiling of the new fiscal year 2021 budget, that the proposal to rebuild Gold Coast Dr. and Parkdale Ave. be funded and enacted upon, according to the plan for Capital Improvement Program B-17188.
Again, I realize we're in the crosshairs of an impending and likely long-term budget crisis, but hopefully we can address more streets in Mira Mesa and District 6 that need to rebuilt from the ground-up, not slathered over with another layer of asphalt that doesn't fix the underlying problem, like Calle Dario, Jade Coast, Pegasus, Port Royale, Perseus, and others. I'm sure you know of some that could use more than a hug and some TLC. If you agree, do me a favor and please let me know.
By Tommy Hough
I have a layperson interest in seismology, and if I was capable of competently executing math and logarithm formulas, I'm pretty sure I would've been a scientist, perhaps even a geologist or seismologist. But the reality is, as much as I find science fascinating, math has never come easy to me beyond basic arithmetic. I blew the lid off the SATs with my English scores, but my math scores were lurking somewhere near the basement, and I never received much academic encouragement to more fully pursue earth science studies.
Nevertheless, a friend recently asked about a story in the Los Angeles Times detailing how the Garlock Fault in Southern California is experiencing, according to the headline, "unprecedented" movement as the result of the magnitude 6.4 and 7.1 earthquakes near Ridgecrest over the July 4th holiday. My friend also asked whether the Garlock Fault is capable of producing a magnitude 8.0 earthquake, as the newspaper headline indicates. It is, and the L.A. Times story is in fact based on a new study released by Caltech scientists last week.
The Garlock Fault runs east-west across Southern California, essentially from Death Valley National Park at its east end to the Grapevine along I-5 at its west end. The Garlock is unusual because it's an east-west trending fault, and most faults in California tend to run northwest to southeast along larger fault systems like the San Andreas and San Jacinto. Most earthquake faults in San Diego County also follow this alignment.
Geologists have been aware of the Garlock Fault for decades, in part because they see the trace of the fault and the impact it appears to have had on the landscape over time. But there haven't been earthquakes that can be attributed to the Garlock in about 500 years of recorded history, and that includes about 130 years' worth of modern seismology that indicates the fault has simply not been an active geological factor in recent centuries. While the Garlock may have played a role in a magnitude 5.7 earthquake near the town of Mojave in 1992, about two weeks after the big Landers Earthquake to the south near Joshua Tree, no evidence of surface displacement was ever found.
That changed with the magnitude 6.4 quake on July 4th, and the bigger 7.1 quake on July 5th near Ridgecrest. The July 5th quake was the largest to hit California in 20 years, and large earthquakes like those in the Ridgecrest area often have a corresponding effect on other faults. Sometimes nearby faults "loosen up" and move as a result of a big quake, sometimes nearby faults "freeze" and stay locked as the result of a nearby earthquake. Most of the time, nothing happens.
A good way to think of California fault geology is to imagine the state as a big, broken dinner plate that's assembled back together, piece by piece, with a layer of topsoil on it. Some pieces of the broken plate are big chunks while other pieces are small, but they all move relative to one another even when one little piece of the broken plate moves – even a tiny one.
The Garlock Fault runs about 15 miles to the south of Ridgecrest, cutting across U.S. 395 north of Mojave, and when the quakes happened near Ridgecrest this summer many observers initially thought they were on the Garlock. They weren't. Instead, the Ridgecrest quakes were centered in a seismically active area called the Little Lake Fault Zone on a relatively unknown "strike slip" fault, which is a fault that moves horizontally and parallel to a surface fault trace. There are perhaps hundreds of these unmapped faults around the state, some of which may not be visible from the surface. In contrast, it was an undetected "blind thrust" fault, which is a fault at an angle within the earth's crust below the surface, that was the cause of the magnitude 6.4 Northridge Earthquake in L.A. in 1994.
While the Garlock Fault has historically been unaffected by nearby quakes with either an increase or decrease in stress, the Garlock is now moving, albeit very slowly, for the first time in centuries as a result of the Ridgecrest quakes. That movement, as detailed by the Los Angeles Times story, is a big deal in the Earth Sciences world. In seismology, this kind of slow, barely-detectable movement is called "fault creep," or "creeping."
In 1952, a large portion of Kern County and the southern San Joaquin Valley northeast of the Grapevine was hammered by one of the state's most violent earthquakes. It was a big jolt, bigger than the biggest Ridgecrest quake, with a magnitude of 7.3. The quake and its aftershocks killed a dozen people, but that big earthquake happened on an otherwise little fault called the White Wolf Fault. The White Wolf had been identified and mapped prior to the 1952 earthquake, but no one was particularly familiar with it. The White Wolf is also an east-west trending fault, running parallel to the Garlock to the north, and it's located near the western end of the Garlock, where the Garlock meets the San Andreas Fault at the Grapevine near Tejon Pass. Despite the violent shaking and proximity of the White Wolf Fault to the Garlock and San Andreas, the 1952 Kern County Earthquake didn't seem to have any affect on either of those nearby faults.
Meanwhile, this summer's Ridgecrest Earthquake Sequence certainly did affect the Garlock. The depth of the respective quakes may have had something to do with it, another part of the reason the reactivation of the Garlock has become such a compelling story. While a bigger quake 65 years ago did nothing to affect the Garlock, the ones this summer near Ridgecrest rattled it loose. Maybe the Ridgecrest quakes were simply closer to a geologic "sweet spot" for the Garlock where it was "hung up" on rock, perhaps for centuries, and unable to move. Perhaps the Ridgecrest sequences avoided a more destructive quake. Perhaps some other geologic event has now been set in motion.
If you're interested in further layperson reading, there's a seismologist named Susan Hough (a very nice person but no relation) who works at the U.S. Geological Survey. She published a book in 2004 called Finding Fault in California: An Earthquake Tourist's Guide, and it's a handy book to have in the car on road trips or even if you're just driving around L.A., as it points out all kinds of interesting seismic features in the state, some of which you can hike or drive right up to and see for yourself.
Tejon Pass / Grapevine photo by Tommy Hough
Ridgecrest Earthquake photos courtesy of the U.S. Geological Survey
"Your feet, taking one step at a time at a studiously slow pace, know the land better than the heads of any elected officials. Insert into those heads what your feet know." – Harvey Manning
By Tommy Hough
If you've been to the Del Mar Mesa Preserve, if you've felt the breeze on your face and seen the expansive views from the mesa tops, you can understand why someone would want to build something there. Even an office park. That desirability is, in part, why the city wisely made the area off limits to development, and instead made it part of its natural preserve system.
That preservation is something the city of San Diego should be proud of. That someone had the humility to say no. That someone had the humility to say the wildflowers bloom and the winds blow and the birds sing here. Any time humanity is capable of putting the brakes on development, of pouring less concrete, less asphalt, from adding more rebar into this world, the nervous systems of all living things win.
So while I'm dismayed at the volume of development that continues along the south side of State Route 56, I'm particularly unhappy with the council's vote to approve the construction of a 420,000 square foot office park on an inward facing "notch" surrounded on three sides by city and state land of the Del Mar Mesa Preserve, much further to the south than any of the other development that has regrettably occurred along the south side of the 56.
Cisterra Development bought this 11-acre parcel on the east side of the preserve from the Catholic church. It was never intended or envisioned to be an employment center. A visit to the site will impress upon anyone why this development is in the entirely wrong place. With a little bit of leadership and foresight, this area could have been incorporated into the city's mitigation matrix in its current state. Now, it will be flattened by bulldozers and earth movers.
In between wild, rudderless claims from opponents that made it sound as though our coalition was made up of gated community fanatics opposing an affordable housing proposal, proponents of the project noted that it is not being built on the preserve itself. But only a fool would deny that the construction alongside the preserve, and the daily volume of thousands of cars going in and out of the area, will not have a detrimental effect on the preserve. It certainly does not compliment the site, or the area.
This project will result in a loss of habitat that will directly affect the preserve and its role as a wildlife corridor, enable an increase in invasive species, and further "bite" into the vanishing wildlands in our city. The construction and daily use of multi-story structures, including a five-story parking garage, is no match for a few trees serving as "natural barriers" between it and the preserve. The very proposal of this office park is an affront to reasonable obligations of stewardship. It is needless.
Yes, the view from the office park will be tremendous – a view of preserved, public land. The location and proximity to preserved public land, in fact, is what will give this office park its "added value." But consider the view from within the preserve, or to wildlife having more obstacles to navigate to access what is becoming an even more isolated island of conservation.
And allow me to add an additional consideration for those who may feel the only thing affected by the project's approval is the "notch" surrounded by conservation lands, instead of the preserve itself: The preserve is already being impacted by surrounding development, and like all islands of conservation, is experiencing death by many thousands of cuts.
If you go to into the canyon of the Del Mar Mesa Preserve, you can look right up to the mesa where this office park will be built. Within the canyon itself, you're in some of the oldest surviving coastal woodlands remaining in our city. The tangle is thick and remarkable. It feels primeval. Humans are only visitors here.
At the base of the canyon is a creekbed. If you go there, even today, it is likely flowing. And while flowing water in a place as notoriously dry as San Diego is typically welcome, the water flowing there today isn't natural drainage from a spring or snowmelt in higher elevations, but runoff from the watering of yards. Runoff from other office developments. It is, in fact, an artificial creek of treated water running through one of the wildest remaining areas in the city, carrying with it chemicals, toxins, detergents, bug and rodent repellants, fertilizers, and poisons, all through a largely pristine site. That's a shame. And that has an effect.
And this office park won't be the punctuation mark at the end of the sentence. It's the beginning of more bites into these wildlands, like the Meridian office project, and Merge 56, which at least has the passable benefit of being "mixed use."
Everyone agrees we have a housing crisis in this city. I spoke about this crisis non-stop on my campaign for District 6 last year. If there are ways to add to our housing stock in sensible places so people who work for a living can afford a home, in which developers work at the public's discretion, and which won't be lost to short term vacation rentals (STVRs) in the process, environmentalists like me will applaud it. We'll support it. We'll help get the project labor agreements, or PLAs, to build it.
But this isn't even about housing. It's office space. As others testified on Monday, we have an abundance of brand new, vacant office space along the 56 corridor, and even more vacant, but perhaps less sexy office space in Kearny Mesa and Miramar. At those locales, the concrete has already been poured within our current development footprint. The roads, water, sewer lines and electricity are all there.
As I said before council in my testimony, voting against this should not have been a difficult decision. The area along the Del Mar Mesa Preserve, where Cisterra's cruelly-named "Preserve at Torrey Highlands" will be built, was not only never intended as an employment center, but was considered so critical for mitigation that even the 56 freeway was routed around it in the early 2000s. No one was going to be put out if a project of this size along a city-owned preserve wasn't approved. In fact, it turns out the Sierra Club had been communicating with the developer about another potential area for the site at the Rose Canyon Operations Yard on Morena Blvd.
But apparently, that option would've been just too hard for the developer, though they admitted they were "intrigued." It would've taken too much time. It wasn't worth the cost of doing business to do the painful work with the city, or anyone else, to get it right. Instead of building an office park in an area that would've been a clear asset by being near the new Balboa Ave. station for the San Diego Trolley, along an established business corridor, and out of a wildfire zone, Cisterra opted to make no one happy by ignoring the opposition of neighbors and the more than justified environmental concerns.
Some developers may balk at the idea of being dictated to over the concerns I've listed. They may balk – and then they may then know how the rest of us feel when being dictated to by them. I said throughout my campaign we need the expertise and capability of developers. They need a seat at the table. But we, the citizenry, must wrest control of our of future, and our city, from the hands of developers who have run the table on this town for decades, and who will shapeshift into whatever form they need in order to work with whatever the prevailing civic trends are.
I applaud Council President Georgette Gómez (D-9), Council President Pro Tem Barbara Bry (D-1), and Councilmember Monica Montgomery (D-4) for having the courage to vote against this project. They should be praised for doing so, and they should be abundantly thanked. Please take a moment to extend your thanks to them.
So now the developer's "preserve" will be built at the people's preserve, with the size and scope of a small airport – an obscene affront in the face of one of the city's most revered conservation areas.
Where humility once reigned and someone once had the foresight to say no, when there was an opportunity to consider building the project somewhere else, the Orwellian "Preserve at Torrey Highlands" will be a legacy of this council. Looming over the Del Mar Mesa Preserve, it will stand as a monument to business as usual, bad planning, bad decision-making, bad faith, smashed coalitions, a dismissal of the obligation of stewardship, and a willingness to desecrate what those before us worked so hard to preserve.
It will be another San Diego environmental cautionary tale, all the more bitter in the face of the 6-3 Democratic majority on city council that approved it. It will be something we look at, 10 or 20 years from now, and shake our heads at in disgust.
Tommy Hough is the co-founder and former president of San Diego County Democrats for Environmental Action. He and his wife live in Mira Mesa.
By Tommy Hough
As Pacific Beach and Clairemont residents know, a new trolley stop and transit center is under construction at the base of Balboa Ave. adjacent to the newly-renovated Morena Blvd. interchange.
The station is expected to go on-line in 2021, and is being completed under the Balboa Avenue Station Area Specific Plan (BASASP). City acronyms aside, the new Balboa Ave. station will be a critical stop along the San Diego Trolley's new Midcoast Corridor extension north to UCSD. If foresight and good civic management are applied, the new stop could also lead to new opportunities for preservation.
As any local commuter worth their salt knows, the area where Balboa Ave. intersects with Mission Bay Dr. and becomes Garnet Ave. is one of the most notorious traffic gridlock sites in the city. Coupled with the traffic ramp to southbound I-5 just west of Santa Fe St. (the road that goes to the Karl Strauss Brewery), and the backup along northbound and southbound Mission Bay Drive, this intersection and all its peculiarities is rush hour misery incarnate.
In addition, the area around the Balboa Ave. transit station will soon be home to upwards of 4,729 residential units, including multi-family and single-family dwelling units within the residentially-designated areas, with much of the construction earmarked for the area between Mission Bay Dr. and Rose Creek.
This building boom is, in part, a push by the city to build workforce housing along urban transit corridors, with residents ideally utilizing newly-available transit options from the Balboa Ave. station to go to and from jobs Downtown, and to access job centers to the north at UCSD and Sorrento Valley.
But how will these thousands of eager new residents access the Balboa Ave. trolley stop and transit station? According to the city and SANDAG, the solution is an expanded Rose Creek Bikeway, utilizing a rebuilt Santa Fe St. and a new overpass above Balboa Ave. to safely deliver pedestrians and bicyclists to the new transit stop. The fate of Rose Creek itself, unfortunately, has not been taken into account, even though it winds through the affected area.
Much of the planned housing will be built along Rose Creek, which has become blighted along portions of its length, as well as a hotbed for crime. Some of the businesses with property facing the creek have installed barbed wire in order to prevent break-ins. Not exactly a welcoming sight for new residents, or a responsible way to treat a valuable natural resource, even one as maligned as Rose Creek.
Official management for Rose Creek west of I-5 falls to the city's Storm Water Division, and while there's no doubt the agency will effectively fulfill their mission there, they may not necessarily manage the area in the same manner as, say, Parks and Recreation. If the habitually-littered Rose Creek area west of I-5, already under considerable stress from maximum urbanization, were made into a park the city could begin a renewal process to fully clean up trash and litter, restore native plants, and ensure the Rose Creek Bikeway traverses an area for transit and recreation that is not only aesthetically pleasing, but well-lighted and safe. That's a plan worth advocating for.
In addition, the affected portion of Rose Creek drains into northeast Mission Bay, and has been identified as a Multi-Habitat Planning Area (MHPA) that contains critical coastal wetlands, including salt marsh and fresh water riparian habitats. The area is also used as a winter retreat for birds from northern Canada and Alaska, and a number of wading birds make their home in Rose Creek year round.
Despite this, the only active "management" in Rose Creek is done with the help of community volunteers and organizations like Friends of Rose Creek, which regularly collects and disposes of litter. Park designation would go a long way toward ensuring consistent, on-site management for recreation, clean water and environmental needs.
As with the ongoing ReWild Mission Bay proposal to restore native wetland habitat to northeast Mission Bay, the potential also exists to remake and redefine Rose Creek as a city park capable of accommodating new residents who will no doubt be curious about their waterway neighbor, and provide management to ensure resources are protected and litter regularly collected and disposed of.
A revitalized Rose Creek will also become an asset, rather than a detriment, to adjoining businesses. After all, who wouldn't want to do business along protected parkland? An investment in the future of Rose Creek may be just what the city needs to mitigate, in part, for the expected explosion of new residents in a highly-concentrated area.
Since the building frenzy on the horizon will put even greater environmental pressure on Rose Creek and Mission Bay, let us encourage San Diego City Council to exercise their power at their meeting on Thursday, Aug. 1, to make Rose Creek into a park, and ensure that an additional layer of management and conservation protection for the creek becomes a reality.
This is an opportunity for San Diego City Council to create a new city park in a park-poor area, and do so at no cost to the city – quite the bargain.
At the upcoming San Diego City Council meeting on Thursday, Aug. 1, we must ask the city to:
And we need you to attend the San Diego City Council meeting on Thursday the 1st to share your thoughts about why you would like to see Rose Creek become city parkland. If you don't want to speak, attend anyway and cede your time to one of our coalition speakers.
We'll meet at Civic Center Plaza outside San Diego City Hall at 202 C St. beginning at 12 noon on Thursday, Aug. 1, to go over talking points and speak with media before heading upstairs for the council meeting. The afternoon council session will get underway at 1 p.m.
Special thanks to Karin Zirk of Friends of Rose Creek for her help with this piece, and thanks to the many organizations supporting Rose Creek park designation, including the Clairemont Town Council, Environmental Center of San Diego, Friends of Rose Canyon, Friends of Rose Creek, Pacific Beach Planning Group, Pacific Beach Town Council, San Diego Audubon Society, San Diego Canyonlands, San Diego Earthworks and the Sierra Club San Diego chapter.
Rose Creek photo and map courtesy of Karin Zirk / Friends of Rose Creek
By Tommy Hough
If you've been following the news in the wake of this weekend's one-two punch of magnitude 6.4 and 7.1 earthquakes near Ridgecrest and Searles Valley, you've likely seen Dr. Lucy Jones with her U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) colleagues on television talking about the impact of the two quakes, the vigorous sequence of aftershocks, and what to expect moving forward as Southern California ends its two decade earthquake drought.
I first met Dr. Jones at the inaugural Great California Shakeout press event at the California Institute of Technology in June 2008, and had a chance to speak with her at length in Dec. 2014, when I was recording interviews for a Public News Service story I was doing on Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti's sweeping new retrofit plan for the city.
At the time I was only able to use bite-sized "actualities" as story quotes, and while I had plenty of material to choose from, being something of an earthquake student I remember thinking it was a shame I wasn't able to use more of my conversation with Dr. Jones for the story, or for a more long-form presentation similar to what I'd been doing a few years earlier with my Treehuggers International show.
After I submitted my story I moved on to my next assignment, but after this weekend's quakes I decided to go back and revisit my interview. I found several of the points Dr. Jones mentioned to be entirely relevant today, including concerns over the loss of affordable and workforce housing, being cut off from regional water sources, and the long-term economic impacts for Southern California.
Calif. State Route 178 aerial photo courtesy of the U.S. Geological Survey (public domain)
Dr. Lucy Jones photo by Tommy Hough
By Tommy Hough
Visiting a National Park shouldn't be seen as a political statement or an act of self-actualizing resistance. Ordinarily, I would never advocate for such a thing in relation to America's Best Idea, or as a means to symbolically push back against a corrupt and cruel regime – even one as vile as this administration.
But at this moment, our National Park Service (NPS) could use some love and attention. It could also use some respect – and you and I can demonstrate that respect.
Our National Parks and Wilderness areas are places where Americans can, should, and frequently do, come together without obsessing over what political stripe they identify with. Our outdoors have always been part of what binds us together as Americans, serving as a common symbol of pride and expression of humility at the foot of our nation's most remarkable landscapes.
As humans we are naturally imperfect, and therefore, we are an imperfect nation. But as a nation, we also have the capacity within our founding documents to improve upon ourselves, and rise above our egos to get things right. Jefferson called this the pursuit of "a more perfect union." Conservation policy is a marvelous expression of that ideal. The benefits to humankind and our planet in doing so are self-evident, and abundant.
But today we have a president who is a liar, a destructive fool, and a resentful braggart. He has never wanted for anything, but has never felt he had enough. He is an agent of abject and malicious cruelty, like a child who stomps on snails or tortures animals because there's no one to stop him, despite having the immense power of his office at his fingertips to be the world's greatest advocate of peace and kindness. This president is not an engaged caretaker of our special places, nor does he have any interest in being one.
It's astounding that, for a man so desperate to be loved, this president can be counted upon to make the most hateful, unpopular decision even worse by twisting his knife into groups he perceives as isolated, vulnerable, or powerless along the way. He will never make a decision that isn't utterly self-centered and based upon his most immediate need to dominate. Yet he sincerely wonders why no one likes him.
He makes absurd exaggerations and fabricates conversations, like a child, about what our mayor might have said about his border policies behind closed doors, or how many people attended his inauguration. Those who fall into his orbit are irreparably damaged, and will remain marked by their association with him for the rest of their days. That he is an insatiable, emotional black hole is transparently clear, yet so many, perhaps blinded by his alleged wealth or some other odd attraction, fail to see it.
Which brings us to today. The only way this president seems to feel he receives the respect he believes is due is by ordering the military and weapons of war to surround him like a Soviet politburo stooge. His rally saw a U.S. president break with 243 years of tradition, of resistance to indulging in empty, vain military braggadocio. Today, we have a president so emotionally insecure he can't even perceive the idea that to boast shows weakness and insecurity – two things no chief executive should ever reveal.
Whether a few tanks or a few jet flyovers, the United States – the strongest military power in the world, if that means anything – has no need to parade our might before the world in a wasteful, impotent show of force that utilizes the authoritarian May Day displays of North Korea or the Soviet Union as inspiration, even though the president argues he was inspired by Bastille Day. These displays are not, and have never been, who we are as Americans.
According to historian Michael Beschloss, who wrote a book about wartime presidents, President Eisenhower – the general who held the coalition of Western Allies together and led them to victory over Germany and Italy in World War II – had no problem reviewing military parades as a general, or reviewing formations as president when visiting military bases.
But when asked by his staff during the era of large Soviet military parades if he wanted to arrange something similar, Eisenhower said:
"To have a military parade without the end of a war or an inaugural or some big reason in Washington, D.C., that is out of our tradition."
According to Beschloss, Eisenhower also said:
"We are the preeminent power on Earth. For us, to try to imitate what the Soviets are doing in Red Square, would make us look weak."
Eisenhower also famously cut defense spending during his administration, something only a war-winning general could have done in the midst of the Cold War, and famously warned the nation about the military-industrial complex upon leaving office in January 1961.
But even shortly after taking office in 1953, as the Korean War was heading into its final, bloody months before a cease-fire, the 34th president said:
"The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some 50 miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single fighter plane with a half million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people."
Those days, of course, are very much over. Today our president insists on "rebuilding our Navy," without any awareness it is no longer 1945.
Today, what interests our president isn't doing the right thing or abiding by the rational tradition observed by individuals clearly more decent and wise than he. What interests this president is the only thing that has ever motivated him – more. The question is, who does he cheat, rob, or steal from to get more.
In the case of today's display on the National Mall, where Martin Luther King gave his celebrated "I Have a Dream" speech in 1963, and where Marian Anderson performed on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the segregated Washington, D.C., of 1939, the president spent millions in seven military flyovers, with 24 aircraft costing at least $560,000 per hour, along with a variety of "unknown costs" that the White House will probably never clarify. A Defense Department estimate for a proposed military parade last year came to $92 million, but the event was scuttled once the costs were made public.
While the "unknown costs" for the president's spectacle remain, what is known is the administration snatched $2.5 million in visitor fees from the National Park Service to fully fund the "Salute to America," even as park service officers were ordered to police the event.
An agency long-maligned by this administration, the park service relies upon visitor fees collected at NPS sites to cover the shortfall politicians of both parties fail to provide, year after year, for maintenance, visitor services, law enforcement, wildlife habitat and recreation access.
That this money is being "appropriated" from the NPS at a time when parks face a massive financial shortfall, including $12 billion in backlogged maintenance aggravated by the government shutdown earlier this year, and while the administration is actively undoing the sanctity of National Monuments even at a time of renewed interest in parks and an influx of visitors, is contemptible.
That today's self-congratulatory display is taking place at a time when children have been forcibly separated from their parents and kept in cages, devoid of the love and touch any child needs, and held in filthy, unsanitary concentration camps "housing" migrants legally seeking asylum, is similarly extraordinary and intolerable. This administration continues to undo the capability of our courts, our operating agencies, and remains dead set on pitting Americans against each other in order to enhance the president's power.
The rot that this administration has enabled, with the naked aid of a foreign power has, in two-and-a-half short years, radically altered the basic tenets of our republic and weakened our democracy to the breaking point.
So with the administration's theft of the park service budgetary supplement in mind, I would encourage you to make a trip this weekend to one of our nation's National Parks, and tell the rangers and employees and volunteers there thank you. Let them know you value them, and that you appreciate the unheralded work they do, day after day, maintaining and preserving our nation's natural and historical heritage. Say the same thing to U.S. Forest Service, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) personnel too, and those who operate our state and regional parks.
Park professionals and volunteers work every day to not only give visitors an amazing experience, but to illustrate how our nation's legacies have affected the wild and the land. They preserve our resources, highlight moments when our nation has succeeded and faltered, and simply in being there stand as one of our nation's great success stories.
Granted, this isn't the kind of success a man like our president can comprehend or appreciate. The humility that goes into declaring a place, an ecosystem, a historic site, or a vast wilderness as off limits so as to enact preservation practices is an extraordinary feat of humanity, and one that is constantly set upon by the temptation of greed, prejudice, waste, and a desire among some to whitewash our nation's mistakes and heritage – to deny history – in order for it to conform to a curious perfection aligned with certain political desires.
When visiting a National Park Service locale, consider the options before you. Instead of fighting the crowds at Muir Woods National Monument on a holiday weekend, find solace, silence and an extraordinary outdoor experience to the north at Point Reyes National Seashore. Instead of driving yourself crazy trying to find parking among the campers and fifth wheels at Yosemite Valley, explore the basin and range geologic province and ancient bristlecones of Great Basin National Park. Savor the view from our Cabrillo National Monument, or revel in the majestic natural churches of the Redwoods.
Take a stand and resist by going out into our woodlands and wilderness and heed, as John Muir would say, the "good tidings" of the mountains. Visit our parks and special places, and embrace our collective natural and historic heritage that our president sees only as an ATM to fund embarrassing, self-aggrandizing spectacles that subvert our nation's earned patriotism.
Visit our National Parks, and protect what's yours from those who would privatize it or steal it away from you in the dead of night. This land is your land.
This guest column originally appeared on the Oregon Wild website. It is reprinted here with permission from the author.
By Steve Pedery
Back in 2010, when Congress was debating the Affordable Care Act, opponents of the legislation had a problem. The things that were actually in the bill – slowing the inflation of health care costs, providing more access to health care, and ensuring coverage for people with pre-existing conditions – were very popular with Americans. So the healthcare reform opponents attacked things that were never actually in the bill, like "death panels," and launched a massive media and P.R. campaign to pretend they were.
Those same corrupt, swamp-monster politics of Trump and Washington D.C. arrived in Oregon this session, most visibly in the death of HB 2020, the Clean Energy Jobs Act that was killed in the Oregon State Senate.
Most Oregonians want our state to act to address climate change. They want more investment in renewable energy and cleaner vehicles, and a transition to less pollution from industrial facilities. They also want Oregon's forests, rivers, and wildlife protected. Voters wanted these things badly enough that they voted for a Democratic "super majority" in the 2018 elections to achieve those aims.
Oregon Wild was not a major player in the debate over HB 2020. Our work focuses primarily on protecting and restoring public lands, forests, wildlife, and rivers. The campaigners behind HB 2020 made a strategic decision early on to exempt logging emissions from the bill. By doing this, they hoped to avoid the ire of "King Clearcut," i.e. the circle of logging barons, logging corporations, chemical industry lobbyists, and the Oregon Forest Industries Council (OFIC) that funnel hundreds of thousands of dollars in contributions to Republican and Democratic politicians every year.
Getting on the wrong side of King Clearcut is viewed as the kiss of death in Salem politics, and by exempting logging emissions the bill's backers hoped to avoid being targeted by Oregon's powerful clearcut lobby.
But as the 2019 legislative session dragged on, this became increasingly difficult. First, some in the logging industry began demanding credit for the carbon being captured and stored by forests on U.S. Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land recovering from the clearcutting epidemic of the 1980s and early 90s.
They also wanted credit for simply replanting forests on private lands they clearcut (which has been legally required in Oregon since the 1970s). Since the whole point of climate legislation is to improve things over the status quo, neither condition made any sense, particularly since King Clearcut refused to consider the giant carbon debt that occurs every time a forest is logged.
Others in the logging lobby tried to push fake science, claiming that forest fires were a bigger source of carbon than clearcutting (they are not); that 2 x 4s, construction materials, and paper products store more carbon that living forests (they don't); and that dense, 30-year-old industrial logging tree farm plantations store more carbon than 200+ year-old old-growth forest (they don't). The reality is that logging is Oregon's largest source of carbon emissions, dwarfing even wildfire, and that better logging practices like restoring old-growth, longer logging rotations, and fewer clearcuts is the biggest single step our state can take to address climate change.
To be fair, not all logging interests were pushing fake science and climate denial. Some quietly weighed in to support HB 2020, hoping to sell carbon credits to industrial polluters under the "cap and trade" program the bill would create. If landowners go to longer logging rotations, thinning instead of clearcutting, or agreements not to log at all, more carbon is stored. While this creates a potential offset for carbon emissions from industrial polluters, it doesn't do much to protect clean air or the health of residents living downwind from those facilities.
In the end, this didn't matter. As the session began to wind down, some of Oregon's wealthiest logging barons, led by Andrew Miller, funder of Bundy-believing politicians and a wide variety of right-wing causes, and Rob Freres, who Oregon Wild battled to protect Opal Creek from clearcutting in the 1990s, came out against the bill and began urging Republicans and anti-environmental Democrats to oppose it. In response, Sen. Arnie Roblan (D-Coos Bay) added his -113 amendment, which specifically barred Oregon landowners from selling carbon credits instead of logging.
It wasn't enough. Miller and Freres, the clearcut kings, launched a major P.R. and media campaign saying the bill would regulate logging (it wouldn't), that it would drive up fuel prices for loggers, farmers and truckers (a companion bill actually gave them new fuel subsidies), and that it would ruin rural economies (when economic studies said it would do the opposite). They told these lies to the media, their employees, and to legislators, and launched their #TimberUnity log truck rally in Salem to promote them. They weaponized misinformation and told rural Oregonians to boycott businesses that support climate action.
That the entire campaign was based on lies didn't seem to matter. Employees of logging companies were encouraged to come to Salem, and company owners sent their log trucks and tractors.
Television news ran images of diesel log trucks rolling through Salem and angry speakers decrying HB 2020 as a ban on logging, while largely ignoring the presence of Three Percenter (believers in the violent "sovereign citizen" movement) and white nationalists in the crowd. Some media outlets responded to criticism of inaccurate stories with bland, stenographical-justification statements of "we are just covering what they are saying."
Just as in 2010, when a P.R. campaign firmly established the idea that "death panels" were actually a thing in the Affordable Care Act, the #TimberUnity rally firmly established the idea that HB 2020 had provisions in it that restricted logging. The pressure worked, and after three anti-environment Democrats made it known they were siding with Oregon's runaway Republicans against the bill and action on climate change, it died.
So what is Oregon to learn from this mess? For one, it is high time that elected officials and environmental campaigners all recognize that the clearcut kings of Oregon, i.e. right-wing donors like Freres and Miller, have no interest in solving environmental problems. Men who argued in favor of clearcutting the ancient forests of Opal Creek and who fund the campaigns of anti-public lands, anti-immigrant, anti-worker politicians are not going to stay neutral on climate legislation, or any other major progressive campaign in Oregon.
Second, Oregon is literally being flooded with corporate political money, and that money is corrupting our state's politics – particularly on the environment. As the Oregonian's Polluted by Money series documented, our state has some of the weakest campaign finance rules in the nation, and politicians have thus far been unable to produce a plan that would effectively combat the corrupting influence of money in our politics.
Per capita, Oregon ranks first in the nation when it comes to campaign contributions from corporations, and first in contributions from the logging industry – doubling even the money the logging industry spends in Washington and California. That money buys access, power, and favors, all of which were on display when Republican senators abandoned their jobs in order to block a vote on climate legislation, and when three anti-environment Democrats joined them. Oregon desperately needs campaign finance reform to rein in the nearly unlimited money currently coming from polluting corporations.
Finally, Oregon has to get serious about addressing our weakest-in-the-west logging rules on state and private lands. Logging barons have made millions clearcutting our forests, leaving Oregonians, rural and urban alike, to foot the bill from mudslides and polluted drinking water, degraded salmon runs, and an ongoing endangered species crisis.
They have also exposed rural families to cancer-causing chemicals, and blocked important legislation to protect health and safety. Worse, state regulators can't even say with certainty if most logging operations are even meeting our existing weak rules.
Everyone in Oregon uses wood products, but they don't have to come from clearcuts. All of us, urban and rural alike, want a clean, healthy environment. We all value old-growth forests, salmon runs, and clean water. We want meaningful action to address climate change. After the death of HB 2020, it is clearer than ever that we cannot have those things unless all of us work to stand up to Oregon's clearcut kings, and the lies and misinformation they spread.
Steve Pedery serves as conservation director at Oregon Wild, and is an avid fly fisherman.
Banner graphic and Clatsop County logging animation courtesy of Oregon Wild.
Steve Pedery and Hood River County timber country photos by Tommy Hough.
Three Percenters photo by Tim Dickerson.
Spraying editorial cartoon © 2015 Jesse Springer.
Remarks to administration officials written for the California Wilderness Coalition, which is joining a lawsuit against several of the proposed border wall extensions through San Diego County and our southern border.
By Tommy Hough
Being an outdoors fan, when I first arrived in San Diego in 2002 I set out to explore our region's coastal parklands, foothill open space areas, and the forests, meadows and hidden canyons that make up the "spine" of San Diego County in the local mountains of the Peninsular Ranges. This in addition to the magnificently preserved, carefully managed, and geologically extraordinary Anza-Borrego Desert State Park in the eastern third of the county.
Only later, after living in San Diego for several years, did I become aware of a fascinating slice of wild, rugged desert mountains just east of the San Diego and Imperial county line along the border of the U.S. and Mexico, and managed for protection by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) as the Jacumba Wilderness.
Included as part of the 1994 Desert Protection Act, the Jacumba Wilderness contains mountains that reach heights of 4,500 ft., and appear to be "sprinkled" from top to bottom with colossal, rounded boulders and rocky outcroppings that look nothing like the low-elevation Colorado Desert that expands from it to the north and east. While a separate geologic bloc, the mountains are similar to the northernmost reaches of the Sierra de Juárez range just a few miles to the south across the border with Mexico.
Portions of this geology can be seen up-close along Interstate 8 at Mountain Springs and the In-Ko-Pah Grade, as the freeway descends from the Peninsular Ranges into the Imperial Valley, with the eastbound and westbound lanes each taking individual canyons through the route.
Similarly, to the south in the northernmost portion of Baja California, the Rumorosa Highway winds along these mountains in a series of dramatic switchbacks. While the views are spectacular, it's difficult, and clearly dangerous, to get out and fully appreciate the area at speed on a steep freeway grade, whether in the heat of summer or during the not-infrequent snowstorms which can blanket the area in winter.
And that's one of the reasons I'm so concerned about the future of the Jacumba Wilderness, especially as new extensions of border wall are to be implemented along the area's international boundary with Mexico.
I was recently in Jacumba Hot Springs as a new segment of border wall was being added to the old, Clinton-era Operation Gatekeeper fence, topped with ominous and deadly concertina wire – something no nation should have along a friendly border. I was disturbed to see a stark line of border fence, now over twice as high, extending for approximately two miles to the east, over the western slope of the Jacumbas. This is absolutely not a place where wild processes should be impeded.
The border is, and always has been, an invisible line that means nothing to the winds and wildlife that have moved through these rugged, harsh canyons for millennia. Given the frequent furnace-like temperatures, the balance of life is so on edge and fragile in a place like the Jacumbas that even with the inherent protections that come with wilderness management, sealing off either side of the wildlands from each other will not only serve as a death sentence for dozens of species – but will lead to interbreeding and less diversity overall.
The Wilderness Act was specifically tailored and intended to avoid this very fate for natural processes and places where "man is only a visitor." Should these border walls go in and replace the fences of barbed wire now there, it will be in defiance of the spirit of the act.
On the Mexico side of the border the same natural processes that we find in the Jacumba Wilderness continue for a dozen miles in each direction – which is partially why the area was so suitable for wilderness designation in the first place.
There are areas of the southern border in Arizona where barriers have been installed that enable wildlife movement but impede, or at least discourage, off-road vehicle and ATV traffic to such an extent that the necessary slowdowns for someone crossing illegally to slalom through the barriers would no doubt catch the attention of Border Patrol. I would recommend these kinds of barriers be utilized in the Jacumba Wilderness instead of sealing off entire ecosystems in a wild area already known for fierce heat and brutally rugged terrain, completely devoid of water, and patently inhospitable to long-term exposure.
San Diego County is the most biologically diverse county in the lower 48 states, and it's because of our coastal, foothill, mountain and desert climates. Because of that location, the region is a key spot for birds along the Pacific Flyway, as birds migrate north and south along the western edge of North America.
The nearby Salton Sea, in particular, has proven to be a popular spot for a wide array of birds, but in a place like the Jacumba Wilderness one can see and hear this wildlife without crowds, without noise – without anything – except the natural processes which brought those birds there. A wall 30 feet, 40 feet, 50 feet high will undo much of the special sanctity of this wild country for birds and humans alike. It will become a cage.
One of the best indicators of a healthy, balanced ecosystem is the presence of large, "charismatic" predator species like mountain lions, which is something the Jacumba has, along with more plentiful bobcats, which are seen as seldom as their larger cousins. The giveaways of their presence are the tracks, which are plentiful when one knows what to look for. Building a wall along this boundary will trap animals on one side from the other, further reducing respective gene pools and weakening these critical natural actors. Within a few years, the entire wilderness could look very different with one of the top regional predators unable to have its "trickle down," for lack of a better term, effect on other species in the region.
And then there's the price to humans – and the peace of mind, solace, autonomy, opportunities for meditation and communing with nature that we so desperately need as a society and a people, that will be irreparably harmed as another long-term cost of these ugly walls. And so needless when other options are considered.
My friends and fellow outdoor advocates have our special routes, trails and campsites in these mountains, and we value the time we spend in a place as wild as any in the United States, where we can hike, explore, and marvel at the surprise call of the canyon wren, or the aromas cast aloft on the warm breezes in the afternoon. It is then we can truly reconnect with ourselves, our environment and our planet, and feel we are part of something far greater than our time – which was another consideration written into the wisdom of the 1964 Wilderness Act.
Please consider some of that wisdom as you make these decisions, which seem to be so appallingly based on short-term political desires, instead of the natural bounty which it is your job to manage, and defend.
Photos by (top to bottom) Christopher Czaplicki, Tommy Hough and Francisco Valenzuela.
A San Diego broadcast and media personality, Tommy Hough is a wilderness and conservation advocate, communications professional, California Democratic Party delegate, and the co-founder and former president of San Diego County Democrats for Environmental Action. He ran as the endorsed Democratic candidate for San Diego City Council in District 6 in 2018.