The man who saves the National Park vistas
Chain saw in hand, Ranger Bill Wolverton is a one-man force against invasive species.
from the June 28, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 3
The Russian olive was never native to Utah or the West. But like many invasive species, it was introduced for a reason: In the 1930s and '40s, farmers planted seedlings as windbreaks. The seeds spread, dropped by birds and carried by waterways. The drought-resistant tree took off, crowding out native vegetation like the cottonwood and willow, and clogging canyons from here to Idaho and Arizona.
"They have ruined thousands of acres of good land, and are still spreading like wildfire. No one is doing anything about it," wrote Lorell E. Roberts in a letter to Wolverton two years ago. Mr. Roberts speaks from experience: In high school in 1934, he was one of the unwitting propagators of the "weed" in question, planting Russian olive as a Future Farmer of America. When he heard of Wolverton's mission, he wanted to know what could be done in his own northeastern corner of Utah.
Unfortunately it's an era of dwindling Park Service resources. Priorities favor crowd control at busy areas over resource management in the remote backcountry. Even the $80 million "Salt Cedar and Russian Olive Control Demonstration Act," passed by Congress in October to fund "demonstration programs" to rid Western lands of the two species, is no guarantee that money will flow to Glen Canyon's wild areas.
Despite Wolverton's dedication and success, no one associated with the legislation has asked him about his methods, which he modestly claims are nothing innovative. "I would not be bothered if no one consulted me."
But Wolverton's unsung accomplishment is "extraordinary," according to Spence. "In four to five years he's controlled 70 percent of the Russian olive in the Glen Canyon portion of the Escalante River corridor," he says. "This is unheard of for anything in the Park Service."
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A former railroad mechanical engineer, Wolverton began a second career with the Park Service, first in 1986 as a volunteer, then as a paid seasonal ranger. But the avid rock climber, rafter, canyoner, and former emergency medical technician, fell hard for the Glen Canyon wilderness in the early 1980s. Which made the onslaught by the "weed" all the more heartbreaking.
"I went back through some color slides that I'd taken. In 1980, there was not a Russian olive to be seen," he remembers. "Today it is nothing but Russian olive." He also recalls the first time he rafted down the Escalante, the trees blocked the river. Their thorny branches, he says, "wanted to suck you under."
That was enough to persuade Wolverton to begin the battle. "I saw the disaster coming and just started whittling away at it, and showed progress could be made and was being made."
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