In the southwestern region of Wyoming is a little known and rarely visited area called the Red Desert. Within this is "Adobe Town," a fantasia of hoodoos, rock toadstools, and stone pedestals where wildlife abounds. There is an ongoing war that has been taking place here for decades between those who want to exploit the land and those who want to preserve it. What will the future of this region be?
In the southwestern region of Wyoming, encompassing the Great Divide Basin
and the lands beyond, is the largest remaining unfenced area in the lower 48 of the United
States. Here, ongoing battles have been taking place for decades. A quiet war between those
who want to exploit the land and those who want to protect and preserve it.
The Red Desert is a half million acres of one of the West's wildest swathes of land.
Within this vast and dramatic landscape is a fantasia of sinuous canyons, eroded hills,
hoodoos, rock toadstools, and stone pedestals. It's a place of beautiful desolation,
where wild horses roam free, pronghorn antelope race across sagebrush plains,
and hawks and eagles circle overhead. It exudes an aura of primal nature,
a primitive vibe of a wild western land that has been tamed or obliterated elsewhere.
Deep within the heart of these hinterlands, the jewel of the Red Desert is an 85,000 acre region
known as Adobe Town Wilderness Study Area.
Out here, a person can walk all day and not see another soul. To the uninitiated,
it might seem intimidating. There are faces in the rocks, and dozens of sets of eyes are watching you.
Reptiles, birds, mammals, and insects, though you may not be able to see them.
Your only companion might be the restless wind. Out here, one can smell the scent of freedom.
Yet, even here is evidence of human intrusion. Dirt roads and old well pipes.
Man's presence in the area had formerly been fairly insignificant,
limited to a few scattered cattle ranches. Some still remain, while others have been
left to slowly crumble in the arid air, lost to the winds of time.
This expanse of desiccated earth receives only seven to ten inches of precipitation annually.
In the Great Divide Basin, what little moisture does fall, stagnates and evaporates rather than
draining away. The remoteness, rugged terrain, temperature extremes, bitter winters,
lack of water, and the overall inhospitable temperament of the place
kept human intrusion to a minimum. Until now. For over 30 years, the oil and gas and mining
industries have been gnawing away at the Red Desert. Roads have been bulldozed and pipelines
constructed. A spider's web of barren earth and metal. Wells, tanks, oil derricks, sheds housing
machinery, fenced enclosures, and so on keep popping up like a bad case of acne. In many places,
these scars of industry now outnumber pronghorn. It's estimated that 84% of the Red Desert
has already seen some form of industrialization. What at first glance might seem a barren landscape,
the Red Desert teems with a plethora of creatures large and small. Mule deer, foxes, badgers, prairie
dogs, amphibians like spadefoot toads and tiger salamanders, and birds such as burrowing owls,
sage grouse, and golden eagles. There are fossils here too. Bones of the prehistoric mammals such as
the rhino-like uintithyr and the taper-like titanothyr. Human occupation of the region
dates back some 12,000 years. Some wagon ruts remain from the Oregon Trail days.
The strange earth and rock forms, eroded hills, and serpentine canyons are sculpted by wind and
Adobe Town has a slight degree of protection as a wilderness study area. Giving it protection as
area would preserve it in perpetuity, though anything beyond its borders would likely be
leased to the exploitative industries that have encroached upon much of the rest of this region.
Not only is the Red Desert home to the largest desert elk herd on earth,
it's also home to the largest migratory herds of pronghorn in the lower 48.
Pronghorn antelope are the fastest land mammals in North America, capable of speeds exceeding 55
miles per hour. They evolved to run from cheetahs in prehistoric times. Not a true antelope,
they are most closely related to giraffes. It's the only animal with branched horns,
and the only animal that sheds horns. They have keen eyesight and are able to spot a threat
from miles away. They are unable to jump fences as deer do, so fences hinder their ability to
travel and migrate. Habitat fragmentation by roads and the disturbance by energy development
create impediments to their survival. Pronghorn eat grasses, forbs, and cactus in the summer,
and survive on sagebrush in winter. Out here, there is much to discover. Plants, animals,
and a seemingly alien landscape. And in discovering this land and its inhabitants,
one might also discover a piece of oneself. Sometimes, in order to find yourself,
you must first lose yourself. What will become of the unspoiled corners of the Red Desert?
That depends on our priorities. Do we concede to short-term industrial profits
to satisfy our current energy demands? Or set aside a refuge not only for nature,
but a place to restore and rejuvenate one's soul and rekindle our sense of wonder.
Will it remain a place where the cycle of life and death can continue, uninterrupted by human
presence, witnessed only by the sky above? Where the only sounds will be the thump of hooves,
the boom of thunder, the yips of coyotes, and the howl of the restless wind.
Do we sacrifice an irreplaceable area for short-sighted needs, or nurture it
for future generations? Long after we're gone, our grandchildren and great-grandchildren
may wonder, why did we not do more to protect this special place when we had the chance?
The future of the Red Desert is in our hands.
