May 21 - The artists never signed their names, and for centuries their
sandstone gallery remained hidden from all but their tribal descendants
who wandered these windy sagebrush steppes.
That obscurity is about to end, as one of the nation's richest oilmen,
who also is a major contributor to the Republican Party, has been given
permission to search for what he believes could be a pool of 10 million
barrels of oil buried here.
These bluffs 70 miles southwest of Billings, where enigmatic images of
animals and men have weathered as much as 1,000 years of prairie wind,
are quickly becoming the backdrop for the first battle over the
Bush-Cheney energy strategy.
Emboldened by the federal plan's emphasis on easing access to domestic
reserves on millions of acres of public land, the oil and gas industry is
eyeing areas like Weatherman Draw in hopes that protracted battles over
wildlife and archeology will be a thing of the past.
Just 12 days after the inauguration of President Bush, federal
authorities here granted an oil exploration permit to billionaire Philip
F. Anschutz, whose empire ranges from telecommunications and railroads to
part ownership of the Lakers and Staples Center, and who donated more
than $300,000 to Republican causes in the past four years.
Affecting an obscure and largely unpopulated 4,268 acres of
south-central Montana, the decision by the Bureau of Land Management
turned few heads. But 10 Native American tribes, the Sierra Club and the
National Trust for Historic Preservation are launching a nationwide
campaign to stop the drilling within a half-mile of indigenous art that
qualifies for the National Register of Historic Places.
They fear that easier access to Weatherman Draw will attract vandalism
and abuse. And losing this battle, they contend, could mark the beginning
of a wholesale rollback of gains achieved in the Clinton administration,
which removed vast stretches of public land from commercial exploitation
and human intrusion.
The opponents of drilling have appealed the decision by the BLM, which
is scheduled to issue a ruling today. Both sides have threatened to
continue the battle in the courts, where the case will be closely watched
by the industry and environmental movement.
"I think it really represents what Bush wants to do in the West," said
Kirk Koepsel, northern Plains regional representative for the Sierra
Club. "These are the things the [Vice President Dick] Cheney energy plan
has in mind to do. They both worked for oil companies, and oil companies
want to have access to every acre of federal land in the West."
Oil and gas interests in Montana and the rest of the West now openly
talk of persuading the administration to reverse decisions such as a 1997
Forest Service ruling that set thousands of acres of the northern Rocky
Mountains off-limits to exploration.
"I think it will help as far as bringing a more balanced approach,"
Gail Abercrombie, executive director of the Montana Petroleum Assn., said
of the Bush plan. "It's not going to be tomorrow. I wouldn't even say it
would be a year or two."
For Anschutz Exploration Corp., the BLM permit for Weatherman Draw
represents little more than long overdue relief. "We went through about
four years of permitting, which is about 3.9 years more than a permit
takes," said the company's land manager, Todd Kalstrom.
"We understood this was a sensitive area, and we wanted to work with
the people in the area." But, Kalstrom added, he found the Native
American response "vague and without any clarity."
Kalstrom, in fact, warned the BLM that "Anschutz's patience has ended"
in a letter he sent to the agency in August 1999. Calls to Anschutz
Exploration Corp.'s parent company for comment on the issue were not
returned last week.
Application Kept in Limbo
Anschutz acquired two existing leases to mineral rights in 1994, two
years after the BLM began procedures to protect rock art found on the
site. It would take five more years for the BLM to declare Weatherman
Draw an "Area of Critical Environmental Concern," a designation that
places substantial obstacles to drilling.
In the meantime, the BLM kept Anschutz's drilling application in
limbo--even while acknowledging that he had valid rights to drill because
his acquired leases predated the bureau's tighter regulations.
In the end, the BLM drilling permit imposed only minor conditions,
including a ban on disturbing Native American rituals still held in the
area and the protection of mating sage grouses, a prairie species whose
population is rapidly declining as a result of human disturbances.
But the BLM will allow drillers to reopen a long abandoned access
road. Motorized access is the bane of sacred sites and wilderness areas
because it opens them up to thieves, vandals and poachers.
Under the permit, the road could be open and drilling underway as
early as mid-June.
The Native Americans whose oral histories refer to the valley as a
place of peace are enraged. At first reluctant to attract attention to an
area they consider sacred, they have joined a national campaign to save
Weatherman Draw. Drilling here, they say, is like sinking a well in front
of the Vatican or in the midst of religious sites in Jerusalem.
"I was told a story by Yellowface," said Howard Boggess, a Crow oral
historian who showed the site to a reporter. "He said go up the
Yellowstone [River] and follow the Clark [Fork]. There's a valley there
that's the valley of peace. We have no war there."
Boggess is convinced Weatherman Draw is that valley.
It is not an easy place to find on a map, and once located, Weatherman
Draw does not give up its secrets readily. A small change in the light
angle can hide images--of shields, animals and human figures--that stand
out boldly in other conditions. Some images lie in the shadowed under
face of sandstone slabs that lean like scattered dominoes in the sandy
soil.
Archeologists--as well as Native American leaders themselves--are
largely baffled at the meaning of the symbols, which they count as some
of the best examples of indigenous rock art on the high Plains, and the
only polychromatic ones in Montana.
"We don't know exactly what it was for, but it was a special place,"
said Crow tribe member Burdick Two Leggins, who saw the site for the
first time with a reporter last week.
When the pioneer Weatherman family first passed through in the late
1800s, they scrawled their family name in several places close to
pictographs that were not revealed to the public until 1992.
But other emblems closer to a paved road have been more widely
familiar since the 1930s, and have suffered extensive damage from
gunshots and graffiti. As a result, enigmatic circles and wedges lie hard
by more prosaic scrawls that say "Bob," "Kikki" or "Lonnie Schwend, May
1963."
Crow and Comanche leaders who trekked to the site recently fumed that
the Anschutz project would open the more hidden sites to similar
vandalism. .
Anschutz agreed to keep workers from the art sites, but bristled at
BLM's suggestion to post a 24-hour guard during drilling, suggesting that
the cost be shared among the company, tribes and Sierra Club.
'This Is a Living Spiritual Center'
Tribal representatives, meanwhile, cringe at the image of guards and
fences around a sacred site. They say the obscurity afforded by
wilderness has protected the area better than any modern sentinel could.
"This isn't just some place on a hill; this is a living spiritual
center. The church is alive here," said Jimmy Arterberry, a Comanche
preservation leader who traveled to the site from Oklahoma. His tribe,
which branched off from local Shoshone groups, traces its heritage
through the valley as well.
For their part, environmentalists view the BLM permit restrictions as
weak concessions from a bureau eager to satisfy the new Washington
philosophy on public land.
"I think what was happening is the BLM sensed a shift in policy and
decided to move forward on this," Koepsel charged.
Tom Lonnie, the BLM's deputy state manager for Montana, who will issue
the appeal decision today, denied any such shift.
"It's a decision that takes a lot of review and a lot of
consideration," Lonnie said. "It wasn't being stalled by anyone as far as
I know. The change in administration had nothing to do with approval of
this well."
Still, the record on the Weatherman Draw case reveals a BLM divided
over its duty to promote profitable use of federal land while protecting
its cultural and wildlife heritage.
For instance, Kalstrom and others close to the decision acknowledged
that his company "worked closely with BLM officials" and "mutually
decided" to tailor the company's original proposal for exploration and
production in a way that would avoid a costly and time-consuming
environmental impact review.
As a result, the bureau undertook a less stringent environmental
assessment on a proposal that deliberately avoids the issue of what
happens if oil is found.
That segmentation of the long-term plan for Weatherman Draw means that
if Anschutz finds oil, the real battle may be just beginning.
At best, Anschutz geologists foresee pumping about 10 million barrels
over 20 years--an amount equal to about half a day of U.S. consumption,
according to the Department of Energy. If no oil is found, Kalstrom said,
"We walk away."
Opponents don't like the odds. "Once they get going, you can't stop
them," said Crow activist Two Leggins. "When you're dealing with the
sixth richest man in the country, the amount of influence and power he
has is enormous."
Two Leggins and others find it particularly ironic that Philip
Anschutz is an avid collector of Western paintings, currently exhibiting
his private collection of Western art on a nationwide tour. They have
appealed to him to recognize the value of their simple rock images and
walk away from Weatherman Draw. In the meantime, they plan to bring the
issue to the attention of people viewing the exhibits in Chicago, Omaha
and Washington, D.C.
"This is like a gallery out here, a natural museum," said Two Leggins.
"Michelangelo, they put his art in museums and put a price on it. These
things are priceless."
Copyright 2001 Los Angeles Times
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