Conservationists Establish Bison Preserve
By BECKY BOHRER
BILLINGS, Mont. - When conservationists Curt Freese and Sean Gerrity look out on the rolling prairies of north-central Montana, they see grasslands largely unchanged by time — a haven for hundreds of birds and wildlife and the perfect place, they believe, for bison to roam again.
"Our vision is not a small herd on a few acres, but to create that exciting, visual image that really gets people's hearts beating fast: 'Wow, look at those bison!'" said Freese, Northern Great Plains Program director for the World Wildlife Fund.
That vision will begin to take shape in the next week: On Thursday, 16 buffalo will be released on a portion of the nearly 32,000 acres that have been purchased or leased as the start of the wildlife reserve the conservationists see as, one day, growing to possibly hundreds of thousands of acres on the High Plains.
Gerrity and Freese say the goal is to replicate and preserve a thriving, natural prairie ecosystem that will bring people to Montana ranching communities that are, in some cases, struggling for survival.
They downplay the fear of some locals that the project is the start of turning Phillips County into a "Buffalo Commons," a place where traditional cattle operations are replaced by a sea of open prairie, populated by bison.
But Frank Popper, the man behind the controversial idea, said this project and others on the increasingly rural Plains precisely fit the notion of Buffalo Commons, even if those involved don't acknowledge it. The Buffalo Commons philosophy was to restore prairie and wildlife, like bison, on lands where agriculture is no longer sustainable because of dwindling population, drought or other factors.
Buffalo Commons remains a dirty word in some parts of eastern Montana and the Plains states, nearly 20 years after Popper and his wife proposed the idea. But Popper believes the once-fierce opposition has abated somewhat over the past decade, as conservationists ranging from Ted Turner to the American Prairie Foundation are essentially putting the concept into practice.
This seems to suggest "that the Buffalo Commons can happen, and there's plenty of room for existing ranching and farming," said Popper, who teaches land-use planning at Rutgers and Princeton universities. "Life goes on."
The Montana project began four years ago, after a global search for a grassland ecosystem that could support a bison herd and myriad other plant and animal species led conservationists to north-central Montana. There, the World Wildlife Fund found the basis for its prairie preserve — a patchwork of public and private lands neighboring a federal wildlife refuge, teeming with native flora and fauna and unfurling into a mostly pristine prairie landscape.
The array of species in southern Phillips County ranged from bighorn sheep and elk to owls and hawks and fragrant sagebrush.
The reason behind the project was simple, said the group's Tom Lalley: Grasslands, particularly in the Great Plains, have tremendous biological diversity but are also in great need of protection.
"They're the total underdogs," he said. "Nobody gives them a chance."
The next step was procuring land, a job that fell to the fund's partner in the project, the American Prairie Foundation. Some of the ranches that make up the preserve had been on the market two or three years, underscoring one of the more subtle changes in family farming, President Sean Gerrity said.
"For the first time since World War I, neighbors aren't necessarily coveting each other's land," he said. If the group hadn't stepped in, the land could have been tilled, sold off in chunks or closed to the public, he said. The conservation groups don't plan to do any of that and envision the preserve becoming a tourist draw.
County Commissioner Troy Blunt doesn't buy it. The preserve is about 50 miles from Malta, reachable by a dirt road that rain could turn to slick muck. Factor in long, bitter winters that would deter all but the heartiest of adventurers, and the effect on the local economy probably will be minimal, he said.
"It might be well intentioned, but it does little to nothing to build or enhance our local communities," he said.
Leo Barthelmess, who raises cattle in the county and used to cut native grass seed on one of the ranches, said he worries about bison getting loose or possibly spreading disease to cattle. The bison being released on the preserve were rounded up from Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota.
He also worries about the preserve getting a lot bigger.
"I hope it doesn't, but it could," he said.
So far, Gerrity's group has acquired grazing or lease rights to nearly 23,000 acres of public lands and bought five ranches. It is looking at one or two others.
"We will keep getting larger until it doesn't make sense anymore," he said.
The groups aren't just looking out one or two years into the future — but 10, 20, even 100. They say they're content to build the preserve and bison herd slowly and keep in close contact with local ranchers and residents in an effort to be good neighbors. They want to build a legacy.
"We fully expect this will outlive us, that this will be a national treasure that people who live around there will be proud of, that will be able to breathe new life into their communities," Lalley said. "And this will just be one hell of a cool place."
By BECKY BOHRER
BILLINGS, Mont. - When conservationists Curt Freese and Sean Gerrity look out on the rolling prairies of north-central Montana, they see grasslands largely unchanged by time — a haven for hundreds of birds and wildlife and the perfect place, they believe, for bison to roam again.
"Our vision is not a small herd on a few acres, but to create that exciting, visual image that really gets people's hearts beating fast: 'Wow, look at those bison!'" said Freese, Northern Great Plains Program director for the World Wildlife Fund.
That vision will begin to take shape in the next week: On Thursday, 16 buffalo will be released on a portion of the nearly 32,000 acres that have been purchased or leased as the start of the wildlife reserve the conservationists see as, one day, growing to possibly hundreds of thousands of acres on the High Plains.
Gerrity and Freese say the goal is to replicate and preserve a thriving, natural prairie ecosystem that will bring people to Montana ranching communities that are, in some cases, struggling for survival.
They downplay the fear of some locals that the project is the start of turning Phillips County into a "Buffalo Commons," a place where traditional cattle operations are replaced by a sea of open prairie, populated by bison.
But Frank Popper, the man behind the controversial idea, said this project and others on the increasingly rural Plains precisely fit the notion of Buffalo Commons, even if those involved don't acknowledge it. The Buffalo Commons philosophy was to restore prairie and wildlife, like bison, on lands where agriculture is no longer sustainable because of dwindling population, drought or other factors.
Buffalo Commons remains a dirty word in some parts of eastern Montana and the Plains states, nearly 20 years after Popper and his wife proposed the idea. But Popper believes the once-fierce opposition has abated somewhat over the past decade, as conservationists ranging from Ted Turner to the American Prairie Foundation are essentially putting the concept into practice.
This seems to suggest "that the Buffalo Commons can happen, and there's plenty of room for existing ranching and farming," said Popper, who teaches land-use planning at Rutgers and Princeton universities. "Life goes on."
The Montana project began four years ago, after a global search for a grassland ecosystem that could support a bison herd and myriad other plant and animal species led conservationists to north-central Montana. There, the World Wildlife Fund found the basis for its prairie preserve — a patchwork of public and private lands neighboring a federal wildlife refuge, teeming with native flora and fauna and unfurling into a mostly pristine prairie landscape.
The array of species in southern Phillips County ranged from bighorn sheep and elk to owls and hawks and fragrant sagebrush.
The reason behind the project was simple, said the group's Tom Lalley: Grasslands, particularly in the Great Plains, have tremendous biological diversity but are also in great need of protection.
"They're the total underdogs," he said. "Nobody gives them a chance."
The next step was procuring land, a job that fell to the fund's partner in the project, the American Prairie Foundation. Some of the ranches that make up the preserve had been on the market two or three years, underscoring one of the more subtle changes in family farming, President Sean Gerrity said.
"For the first time since World War I, neighbors aren't necessarily coveting each other's land," he said. If the group hadn't stepped in, the land could have been tilled, sold off in chunks or closed to the public, he said. The conservation groups don't plan to do any of that and envision the preserve becoming a tourist draw.
County Commissioner Troy Blunt doesn't buy it. The preserve is about 50 miles from Malta, reachable by a dirt road that rain could turn to slick muck. Factor in long, bitter winters that would deter all but the heartiest of adventurers, and the effect on the local economy probably will be minimal, he said.
"It might be well intentioned, but it does little to nothing to build or enhance our local communities," he said.
Leo Barthelmess, who raises cattle in the county and used to cut native grass seed on one of the ranches, said he worries about bison getting loose or possibly spreading disease to cattle. The bison being released on the preserve were rounded up from Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota.
He also worries about the preserve getting a lot bigger.
"I hope it doesn't, but it could," he said.
So far, Gerrity's group has acquired grazing or lease rights to nearly 23,000 acres of public lands and bought five ranches. It is looking at one or two others.
"We will keep getting larger until it doesn't make sense anymore," he said.
The groups aren't just looking out one or two years into the future — but 10, 20, even 100. They say they're content to build the preserve and bison herd slowly and keep in close contact with local ranchers and residents in an effort to be good neighbors. They want to build a legacy.
"We fully expect this will outlive us, that this will be a national treasure that people who live around there will be proud of, that will be able to breathe new life into their communities," Lalley said. "And this will just be one hell of a cool place."
