STRAWBERRY - Dexter Allen, the Wild and Scenic Rivers ranger for Coconino National Forest, wheeled
his truck into Fossil Creek Canyon.
A raven perched on a dumpster, pecking at trash.
Dozens of people splashed in swimming holes.
A parking area overflowed, so visitors left their cars next to "No Parking" signs, clogging the narrow road.
slideshow Public affection destroys parks like Fossil Creek
Carlos Mundo, 23, of Mesa, pulled up beside the ranger. "Which way to the waterfall?" he asked.
Allen began giving directions to a downstream pool, but Mundo shook his head. "No, not that one. I'm
trying to get to the one pictured on the Internet."
Allen pointed him to a trail leading upriver.
"That waterfall up there about a mile has become one of the most popular spots," Allen muttered. "A few
years ago, nobody even knew about it."
Down the road, Allen stopped at a campsite filled with gear. Embers glowed in an untended circle of
rocks less than 100 feet from a "No Campfires" sign. Allen found the campers nearby, in turquoise water
beneath a cottonwood tree with a rope swing, and asked them to extinguish the coals.
"It kinda sucks, ya know? A campfire makes everything," Victor Valenzuela, 22, of Phoenix, said as he
doused the embers. "When it's cold, you can sit around drinking and roasting marshmallows."
Driving away, Allen shook his head. "There's a phrase about Fossil Creek. A lot of people say it's being
loved to death."
'No magic bullet'
Fossil Creek is the story of a river that was killed by civilization, brought back to life in the new
millennium and now faces destruction by affection.
The storyline probably predates even the ancient Sinagua people who settled here: Humans discover
natural splendor. They tell friends, who tell friends. Eventually, to paraphrase Yogi Berra, a place gets so
popular that nobody wants to go there.
Since John Muir founded America's conservation movement and helped persuade President Theodore
Roosevelt to create a national parks system, public lands have been caught between recreation and
preservation.
What rules should be imposed to protect a place? Does ecology trump pleasure? Is there room for
compromise?
"The question is one that virtually every manager of a wilderness, backcountry or even a park is
confronted with," said Steve McCool, a professor of wildland recreation at the University of Montana.
"How many people are too many?"
The more popular and sensitive a destination, McCool said, the greater the conflict. And the more
pressure exerted on administrators.
Consider the Grand Canyon: Today, a permit system limits the number of backpackers and bans them
from making fires.
From the redwood forests to Niagara Falls, popular natural wonders almost inevitably need protection.
"Fossil Creek is a microcosm of this larger, global issue," McCool said. "We're making a selection of
trade-offs. There's no rule, no magic bullet. You have to work through a very dramatic collision of
values."
A rising attraction
In the early 1900s, the wild creek was civilized when engineers arrived at a remote spring in the Rim
Country 20 miles northwest of Payson.
Fossil Creek was dammed. Flumes diverted the water to a pair of hydropower plants, providing electricity
to nearby towns and mines. A 14-mile stream of cascading falls and travertine pools was transformed
into a lugubrious trickle, a gulch.
Nearly a century later, environmentalists began pressuring Arizona Public Service Co. to let the river run
free. In 2000, an agreement was reached. Five years later, the dam was removed.
Today, restoration is nearly complete: Spring water follows its natural course. Native fish have replaced
exotics.
Robin Silver, co-founder of the Center for Biological Diversity, said Fossil Creek is one of the
Southwest's greatest river resurrections.
You will be seeing a few changes to our Calendar in the next few weeks. We are putting in the
UTM coordinates along with the other info. Hopefully this will help those that wish to practice
more with their GPS.
But, as the waters gushed, so did visitors. Word spread to the Web. Newspapers published alluring
pictures. Actor Ted Danson narrated the PBS film "A River Reborn."
Campers, kayakers, swimmers, hikers and anglers swarmed, according to a Northern Arizona University
study last year. In 2006, about 175 people were at the creek during any given time on weekends. Three
years later, that number tripled to 539.
Visitors dumped garbage, chopped trees, painted graffiti, abandoned campfires and used bushes as
bathrooms.
"It got horrible," Silver said. "There was trash and toilet paper everywhere. Just a mess. And it was
disintegrating."
Conservationists pressed the Forest Service to increase patrols and restrictions, hinting at a lawsuit.
As of March 8, fires were banned along Fossil Creek. Camping was prohibited in sensitive areas. Strict
parking regulations were established, though many people still ignore them.
The Forest Service more than doubled its staffing. Portable toilets were brought in. Volunteers tore out
fire rings. Cleanup crews with llamas hauled away trash. Signs were posted everywhere, listing rules.
How to save it
A year ago, Congress designated Fossil Creek one of the nation's Wild and Scenic Rivers.
The designation requires that a plan to manage the area and its resources be adopted by 2011.
Government officials and environmentalists are working on it, but Silver said negotiations have been
contentious.
Jennifer Burns, recreation staff officer for the Red Rock Ranger District in Coconino National Forest, said
the Fossil Creek planners are mostly scientists and activists with a passion for ecology. Because no one
represents the visitors, Forest Service personnel try to keep them in mind.
"I know there is a huge population out there that likes to recreate at Fossil Creek, and if we come up with
something that doesn't allow them access, they're not going to be happy," Burns said. "They are
stakeholders, too. They just don't sit at the meetings."
Silver advocates a fee program, issuing a limited number of visitor permits per day. It would be more
radical than the Red Rock Pass required of hikers near Sedona or the permit limits that restrict
backpacking in the Grand Canyon. Burns said that would present staffing and other issues for the Forest
Service.
Even Fossil Creek visitors agree that they're wrecking the place. They hate the idea of banning
campfires, according to the NAU study, but would welcome a permit system.
Allen, the Wild and Scenic Rivers ranger, said that sentiment might be a key to saving the place: Most
campers view an evening fire as essential to the outdoor experience. As word of the prohibition spreads,
he said, folks are likely to go somewhere else with their hatchets and trash.
McCool said the phenomenon is known as "problem displacement": When strict rules are enforced to
protect one beautiful area, crowds find another one. And the problem begins anew.