Our Beef Doesn’t Burn: Ranching vs. Drilling in the Thompson Divide

Melton is worried about proposed natural gas drilling in the Thompson Divide, which borders his property. He estimates that half of his business is done on leased national forest lands where he takes guests on rides through the summer and leads hunting trips in the fall.  “I’ve been all over the world with the military, ranching and cowboying, and this is the most beautiful place I’ve seen,” he says with open pride, though he lets his voice drop as he adds, “I just hope they don’t put a sewer in the middle of it.”

In the last decade, the booming (and busting) gas industry in western Colorado gave Melton a first hand view of the effects of drilling on public lands and adjacent communities.  Before serving in the military, he lived near the town of Parachute which is at the heart of one of the most heavily developed gas reserves in the state and home to a recent benzene spill which has been making headlines.  “When I left for Iraq, all the oil and gas business was just starting,” he remembers. “When I got back, I went over to Parachute and Rifle to look for a place to live, but I took one look around and said, ‘No way.’  Rifle went from being a pretty cool old town to a slum overnight.  There are still a lot of good people there, but there’s a lot of other people too that seem like vultures hanging around a carcass.”

Speaking as a hunting outfitter, he laments the loss of elk habitat near Rifle. “Garfield County used to be one of the elk hunting capitals of the world.  Now all the big herds are gone.  If they drill in the Thompson Divide, the elk would move out and the economy would hurt big time.”

Throughout the Crystal River Valley along the eastern edge of the Thompson Divide, we interviewed numerous ranchers about the drilling debate and heard many voice concerns about the effects gas development would have on the local quality of life.  Bill Fales is celebrating his 41st year on Cold Mountain Ranch along Thompson Creek, which has been producing food for the community for the last 130 years. “I like running cows,” he says.  “They’re a fun tool for trying to figure out how to manage land as well as produce beef. I think we do a pretty good job and are actually improving the land we graze on.”   Even though Fales is convinced that natural gas in a necessary resource, he isn’t convinced all reserves should be developed.

There are some areas that have other attributes that are more valuable than taking the gas out. If we just go hell bent for leather and drill every possible acre we can drill, I think we’re doing a real disservice for future generations.

He dismisses the popular pro-gas argument about energy independence, explaining that the gas from the Thompson Divide would be headed overseas anyway. “There is a glut of natural gas in the US, and I see no reason to destroy really spectacular spots in this country to ship gas to China.”

Although Fales cites wildlife, recreation, hunting, and hiking as some of the values of an undeveloped Thompson Divide, he is naturally concerned about the effects it would have on agriculture as well.  “It’s terrifying for us.  We depend on a good source of water and clean water to keep our cows and crops healthy. But every paper you pick up shows accidents happen.”

Fales speaks from experience on this point.  He reports that a gas pipeline which was put through the Thompson Divide in the 1960s, “is probably the worst section of weeds we have in the forest,” and he tells us about an incident when ten of his cows drank contaminated water from a faulty part of the pipeline. “They licked up the little puddle of the water and dropped dead on the spot. They died right there by the pipeline.” When the energy company denied liability, Fales brought in a vet for the autopsy.  “His method was pretty simple.  He cut them open and held a cigarette lighter to them. They would sustain a flame. The carcasses would just burn.  But that’s not a natural deal,” he concludes, chuckling sadly. “Our beef does not burn.”

Judy Fox-Perry lives on Water Gap Ranch, which also relies on irrigation water originating in the Thompson Divide.  After speaking extensively on the local ecology and explaining the importance of the area as a wildlife migration corridor, she runs through the various threats that road building would bring to the health of the landscape, including increased avenues for invasive species as well as diminishing water quantity and quality.  “I don’t think we can trust the industry,” she says, despite their constant reassurances that fracking can be done safely.

During my lifetime we’ve heard these claims before. Growing up, we thought the oceans were too big to pollute, but now we have plastic islands in the oceans.  We thought the air was too vast to pollute, but now we have global warming and in Colorado we’re breathing dust all the way from China. We heard that smoking wasn’t hazardous to our health, but now we know the industry was wrong on that.  I think fracking falls in the same category.  We can’t see it, it’s a huge earth underneath us, but I think it’s going to catch up with us.  We’re creating fissures in the rock and creating pathways for fluids to travel.  And you can’t clean up an aquifer once it’s contaminated.