Construction Ahead

The nature vs. tourism debate no longer impedes a massive renovation project in Yosemite Valley.

by Mark Grossi
Fresno Bee - September 21, 2003

The perennial traffic jams in front of North America's tallest waterfall will be gone by 2006. In fact, the intersection near 2,425-foot Yosemite Falls will be a memory by then.

What a change from the current summertime drill: A National Park Service employee, wearing white gloves and blowing a whistle, playing big-city cop, directing lines of cars and buses. It's not quite a Yosemite postcard scene.

Yosemite officials want to see only pedestrians, bicyclists and photogenic wildlife intersecting near the thundering Sierra icon in the future.

But, before that happens, everyone will have to put up with construction dust over the next three years as the park service pours $140 million into perhaps the biggest remake of Yosemite Valley since the 1960s. Up to 300 workers will build everything from sewers to motel rooms.

The sunsets and the granite domes will remain, and the valley will be open to visitors throughout the construction process. But in a few years, you might not recognize the place.

"We're starting to shape what Yosemite Valley will look like many years from now," says Yosemite Superintendent Michael Tollefson. "This is very exciting."

The change is already in the wind, like the first chill of autumn on September mornings. Right now, workers around Yosemite Falls are completing construction of an eastern trail, renovating the western trail and erecting new bathrooms.

The hard hats and hammering might be the clearest signals that reconstruction finally is moving beyond a glacial timetable. The next three years have been two decades in the making.

What took so long? Aside from chronic funding problems, it all boils down to a dilemma as monumental as 7,569-foot El Capitan -- nature versus tourism. People disagree, argue and ultimately file lawsuits over the way park officials balance protection of the ecosystem with people's desire to experience nature.

There have been thousands of often-conflicting opinions filed with park officials over the $441 million Yosemite Valley Plan, the blueprint that guides the current projects. The opinions come from people who live as close as Oakhurst and as far as Florida.

Even among environmentalists, disagreements fester. While some groups think it's time to move forward on valley projects, the Sierra Club, which hasn't taken an official position on the valley plan, says things are moving too quickly.

"I consider this to be urban renewal," says George Whitmore, chairman of the Sierra Club's Yosemite Committee. "If you could show the public how much is going on here, there would be outrage over it."

Fremont resident Jeff McCraw, an independent researcher who gives his findings to the Sierra Club, accuses the Park Service of not releasing enough information about projects. He says the public cannot figure out the depth and breadth of key projects from planning documents describing them.

"They're fast-tracking to spend this money," he says.

But the Wilderness Society and the National Parks and Conservation Association say that while the plans aren't perfect, they work.

"There are a lot of positives in the plan," says regional director Courtney Cuff of the parks and conservation group. "We think there are net gains for visitors and for the Yosemite resources that people all over this country love."

How could a crown jewel of the federal park system become such a cankerous sore spot among even environmentalists?

Look beyond the valley vistas and wildlife. A city is nestled in this world-class tourist attraction. The city has fire and police departments as well as a post office, a jail, a courthouse, an elementary school, restaurants, motels and retail stores.

More than 70% of the 3.5 million annual park visitors come to this city and provide an economy for Yosemite Concession Services Inc., which runs the motels, stores and other services. Cities neighboring the park, such as Mariposa and Oakhurst, also rely on Yosemite tourism.

So if the lights go out and the toilets back up at Yosemite Valley, a lot of people notice. City amenities are important to business people and visitors.

Now, add many more people devoted to Yosemite's grandeur and tradition -- hiking, backpacking, ice skating, bicycling, camping, swimming and just sightseeing. Nature can get trampled. That's the rub.

"We have to take into account the visitor experience and the impact on the resources," says park planning official Michael Reynolds. "It's not simple."

The balancing act will become very visible as the leaves turn for fall. Crews will begin extensive repairs and realigning of antiquated water, sewage and electricity lines between Curry Village and Yosemite Lodge, traversing meadows, wetlands and riverbed.

Next year, many new dormitory buildings will be built at Curry Village for park concession employees. Around Curry Village, plans call for a 460-seat amphitheater north of Clark's Bridge.

And the far-reaching redevelopment of Yosemite Lodge, including a new Indian Cultural Center and some new rooms, is expected to kick off next year. By 2006, Northside Drive will be shifted south of Yosemite Lodge, and the busy intersection near Yosemite Falls will become part of a pedestrian promenade or trail.

All the while, workers will remove temporary employee housing in places such as Curry Village and Yosemite Lodge.

These kinds of hefty projects have been delayed by more than just disagreements among people who love the park. There hasn't been enough money or political will to make a serious stab at a $441 million plan.

But the Merced River ended the funding inertia in 1997. It filled the valley with a flood that wiped out buildings, swamped sewers and swept over campgrounds. Congress provided $176 million in repair money, and the valley's renovation moved off of square one.

Almost at the same time, the Yosemite entrance fee quadrupled from $5 to $20, and Congress passed a law allowing parks to keep 80% of the fees for improvements.

Officials estimate the park's pot of money from entrance fees collected between 1997 and 2004 will swell to more than $130 million.

This so-called fee demonstration project, which is temporary and could be revoked by Congress in the future, will supply more than $19 million for the current utility work as well as 70% of the $2.2 million construction of new shuttle bus stops and shelters.

But a large chunk of the money has not been spent, mostly because of delays created by legal action and politics in the past.

One high-profile example of politics emerged this year when Rep. George Radanovich, R-Mariposa, introduced legislation to rebuild 144 of 361 riverside campsites wrecked by the 1997 flood. The bill also would prevent the loss of current parking spaces in the valley.

Park officials intend to remove the remnants of the campsites and restore the riverside area to natural conditions at an estimated cost of $470,000. The park service plans to have no net loss of parking spaces in the next three years.

But if the Radanovich bill passes, park officials fear it might make significant changes that will force reopening the public discussions of valley plans and possibly add years to this process.

Those who support Radanovich's position say the campsites are a part of the valley's history. They say the loss of the campsites and reduction in parking spaces is an attempt to exclude the public.

"For some people, the only thing they can afford is camping," says Peggy Mosley, owner of the Gold Rush-era Groveland Hotel in nearby Tuolumne County. "There are other campsites, but there is nothing like waking up in the morning next to this river. We're going to win this thing."

Lawsuits can slow the plans as well. The American Alpine Club sued the federal government in 1998 over plans to develop Yosemite Lodge and employee dormitory buildings near Camp 4 or Sunnyside Campground, just west of the lodge. The Sierra Club filed another lawsuit against the lodge plan over other environmental issues.

A year later, officials abandoned the lodge plan and reworked it over the next few years, cutting down the number of units being built and shrinking the amount of land the construction would cover up. Officials say they want to have a smaller "human footprint" in the valley, while still being able to accommodate visitors.

"There's going to be a lot more greenery than there was pre-flood," says Superintendent Tollefson.

The wife of a Paiute tribal member thinks the Park Service's projects will bring greenery of another kind. She says development will just attract more people in Yosemite and make more money for everyone.

Vikki Rhoan and her husband, Joe, have been opposing the valley projects because they believe American Indian tradition is being violated.

Park Service officials, who say the entire valley is basically a historic site for American Indians, perform test digs to make certain that significant artifacts or burial grounds are discovered. A Native American representative from the local tribes also is supposed to be on-site whenever work requires digging.

But the Rhoans say the construction work is disturbing land that should be preserved intact.

"They claim the plan is designed to reduce the human footprint in the valley," says Vikki Rhoan. "Yet it will only bring more footprints into the valley. How much more can we develop? Does everything or anything beautiful and sacred have to fall victim to urbanization?"

But even in the midst of an undeniably urban scene -- midweek construction on bathrooms at Yosemite Falls -- visitors from all over the globe streamed past equipment and crews to see the granite cliffs.

"It's stunning," says Harry Miller, 62, of Scotland after he viewed the falls, which had gone dry for the season. "This is my first time here. I don't mind this work. You have to make it right for the tourists. They're the ones you need to satisfy."