Dedicated to advancing scholarly and public understanding of the past, present, and future of western North America, the Center supports research, teaching, and reporting about western land and life in the United States, Canada, and Mexico.

Living History

Image: Tyler McIntosh and Sean Baumgarten get excited during an archival research trip to the U.C. Berkeley Earth Sciences Library.

By Tyler McIntosh
B.S. Earth Systems, 2016
Summer Intern at the San Francisco Estuary Institute

Read about our summer interns on the Out West student blog. Throughout the summer, the Center's interns and Research Assistants will be sending in virtual postcards, snapshots and reports on their summer work.

The day comes to a close with the furious ‘click-click’ of the camera and desperate yet muted riffling of yellowed archive pages. It’s 5 o’clock at the California Historical Society and our team of archival researchers from the San Francisco Estuary Institute is being booted out the door.

The San Francisco Estuary Institute (SFEI) is composed of three different programs: Clean Water, Environmental Informatics, and Resilient Landscapes. I am the intern for the Resilient Landscapes program, which works to create ecologically diverse landscapes that are resilient to climate change and human disturbance. Historical Ecology is perhaps the largest component of the program—the process of studying landscapes as they used to exist, intersect, and interact. The study of historical ecology, at least in the case of SFEI, involves the use of hundreds of first- and second-hand documents, compiled and cross-referenced in order to compose a vision of the historical landscape. Vision components include habitat, land use change, hydrology, geomorphology, and native species.

It is for one such study that I find myself suddenly standing outside the California Historical Society’s doors, blinking against the sunlight and San Francisco’s bubbling flow.

The society is but one of many treasure-troves of information that SFEI digs through for information on the numerous projects that the organization constantly juggles. An NGO known throughout the Bay Area for quality science at a landscape scale, SFEI works to define environmental problems, provide sound scientific research and analysis, and connect information with those in planning, management, and policy-making positions.

Just like SFEI itself, over the past few weeks I’ve juggled work on a number of different projects. From GIS data entry and copy editing reports to researching the Pacific pocket mouse (an endangered species historically found in the lower Tijuana Valley in San Diego County) and continued historical ecology database searches and archive visits, I’ve gotten a chance to experience many of SFEI’s modes of communication and research. It’s been fascinating to see the massive scale of research outside of a strictly academic context.

I’ve also greatly appreciated the opportunities I’ve been given to learn about NGO functioning, project coordination, and the work that different organizations are doing in the Bay Area; between brown-bag lunches from partner organizations, sitting in on meetings, and being involved in and around the office, it’s nearly impossible NOT to learn something new.

Although my heart, lungs, and legs yearn for the open air of the mountains where I grew up, I’ve taken it upon myself to explore the Bay Area as best I can with what free time I’ve been able to squeeze from my busy days. My few short weeks of living in Berkeley have already shown me parts of California that I hadn’t seen before: the mirror of the bay cradled between golden-grassed hillsides, Mt. Diablo’s skin-frying sunbeams and sweeping vistas, San Francisco’s delights, Berkeley’s many hidden nooks and crannies, and so much more.

I look forward to continuing my summer with SFEI, learning more about the company’s internal workings and analysis process, and getting a chance to work on a variety of projects; in particular, historical ecology research on the Walnut Creek watershed and Mission Bay in Southern California.

A Demographic Portrait of State Legislators

Image: Image: one of the products of our study will be an interactive map with current state-by-state legislator demographics

By Michael Gioia
Intern, the National Conference of State Legislatures

Read about our summer interns on the Out West student blog. Throughout the summer, the Center's interns and Research Assistants will be sending in virtual postcards, snapshots and reports on their summer work.

In the last month, I have taken the plunge into a deep study of legislative demographics. While this is a long-term project that still won’t be completed when I leave NCSL, the ultimate product is still quite exciting: we are producing a comprehensive study that will not only longitudinally track changes in the demographics of state legislators, but also compares those demographics to those of the U.S. Congress and the national population as a whole.

I’ve been analyzing a wide variety of data, as we’re interested in everything from race and gender to the occupations and religion of state legislators. Of course, with such an ambitious project, there can be some bumps along the road. For instance, the U.S. Census and State Legislatures often use difference demographic categories, so we have spent a good deal of time deciding how to bridge those differences.

Despite the occasional challenge, working on this research project has been a very illuminating experience for me. My big goal for this summer was to get a better sense of the differences between doing research in university and non-university environments. While I have worked on similar subjects as a Research Assistant in Stanford’s Political Science Department, my project at NCSL has still proven to be a novel experience for me, just given the different culture and expectations. To begin with, much of our work has very clear stakeholders, who are paying dues in exchange for the research we provide. This being the case, projects at NCSL often require a quicker turnaround, along with a concise and direct report of findings. For me, this has produced a noticeable contrast with my time doing research at Stanford, where projects have a less strict schedule for deadlines, and consequentially are able to delve deeper into issues for the sake of intellectual curiosity. Given that I’m contemplating a career in research, understanding this difference in environments is enormously useful for me.

Another goal of mine for the summer was to better understand Colorado’s history and culture. I had never been to Colorado prior to my arrival this summer, and I hoped to use my ten weeks here to learn about and appreciate this part of the country. At this point, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve succeeded. In addition to exploring Denver, along with other parts of the state, I’ve learned a great deal about the history of the area, from its early growth dating back to an extension of the transcontinental railroad, to its contemporary challenges as Denver confronts unprecedented population growth. This history is not only interesting – it has helped me feel more connected to my home for the summer. I’m looking forward to my last few weeks here. I’m excited to see the product of all of my work grow closer towards completion, but I’m also getting ready to head home. With all of my work and adventures, I’ll need some time to rest!

A Trail Takes Shape in the Pacific Northwest

Pictures from the Pacific Northwest Trail Association's Instagram account

In the wilds of the Northwest, a trail is taking shape. Designated by an act of Congress in 2009, the Pacific Northwest Scenic Trail winds 1,200 miles from Glacier National Park in Montana to Cape Alava on Washington's Pacific coast. Along the way, the trail passes through the Rocky Mountains, Eastern Washington, the North Cascades, and the Olympic Mountains. It crosses three national parks and seven national forests. Like such well-known western routes as the Pacific Crest Trail, it passes largely through public lands managed by states, tribes, and agencies of the federal government. Some of the trail also crosses private lands, predominantly owned by timber companies.

Route of the Pacific Northwest Scenic Trail; click to enlarge.

But while the general route of the trail is largely set, many decisions will need to be made to refine the trail's scenic, historical, and environmental impact. For this reason, the trail's managing agency, the U.S. Forest Service, has decided to convene an advisory council to oversee its development.

We are pleased to announce that Bill Lane Center for the American West's founding former director David M. Kennedy was selected to join the trail's advisory council by Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack. Kennedy, a son of the Pacific Northwest and avid outdoorsman, says that he is thrilled to be involved with the committee, which will meet regularly starting in October 2015.

"I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and have back‐packed and horse‐packed much of the proposed route," says Kennedy. "I was honored to be asked to join the advisory committee, and hope to contribute some historical perspective to its development – and to be a voice for accessibility for all users, given my long‐time association with Environmental Traveling Companions (ETC), a San Francisco‐based service organization for people with disabilities."

David M. Kennedy

The Pacific Northwest Trail is the newest of 11 nationally designated scenic trails. The first was the Appalachian Trail, completed in 1937. Other western scenic trails include the Pacific Crest Trail (1968), Continental Divide Trail (1978), and the Arizona Trail (2009). Additionally, the federal government has designated national historical trails like the Oregon, California, Nez Perce, Pony Express, Santa Fe, El Camino, and Mormon Pioneer Trails. The historical trails are so designated because they "closely follow a historic trail or route of travel of national significance," according to the Bureau of Land Management, which stipulates that "their designation identifies and protects historic routes, historic remnants, and artifacts for public use and enjoyment."

The scenic trails, by comparison, "are extended trails that provide maximum outdoor recreation potential and for the conservation and enjoyment of the various qualities." It is these qualities that trail managers at the Forest Service and the trail's advisory council will need to assess and balance these with right-of-way and accessibiliity questions, community interests and impacts, and other concerns. 

For more information on the Pacific Northwest Scenic Trail, please see the U.S. Forest Service and the Pacific Northwest Trail Association.

Kathy Zonana Moves Into News

Photograph: L.A. Cicero, Stanford News Service

We're both sad to say goodbye to our Associate Director, Kathy Zonana, and pleased to see her move on to an editing position at Stanford Medicine magazine. For three years, Kathy has kept the Center running, from working with the Advisory Council, coordinating our 10-year review and handling some major gifts, to hiring staff and postdocs, to helping launch our first full-term undergraduate course, The American West. Not to mention putting on her sneakers and keeping our spirits up through several 20-mile hikes from Stanford to the Sea.

But above all, from my perspective, was Kathy's steady hand on public outreach work like our film series, guest speakers, book publications, and journalism projects. Her judgment and editing skills were a valuable backstop to our media projects, and she was an excellent ambassador for the Center at public events. Trained as a lawyer but with years of editorial experience, Kathy is a fine writer and a wonderful colleague, so while we will miss her dearly, we are glad to know that she is, to borrow a phrase from a 2012 Stanford News Service article featuring Kathy, "moving into news." We look forward to seeing her work in Stanford Medicine and seeing her around the Farm.

We will be posting more information about our staffing in the coming weeks, but in the meantime, please join us in wishing Kathy the very best for her next steps.

An 'Ambitiously Multidisciplinary Course' on the West

Frederic Remington's "Aiding a Comrade" from 1890 (Museum of Fine Arts, Houston/Public Domain)

The July/August issue of Stanford Magazine features the Center's undergraduate course The American West, which was offered for the second time during the spring quarter. The course, co-taught by professors from five different departments,"may be the most ambitiously multidisciplinary course on this or any other campus," says David M. Kennedy.

If you pick classes as if you're choosing from menus, The American West is where you go for fusion. Besides blending history, geography and politics with art and culture, the spring course brings together five noted professors in what amounts to an interdisciplinary banquet.

Bruce Cain is from political science, Shelley Fisher Fishkin from English, David Freyberg from civil and environmental engineering, David M. Kennedy from history, and Alexander Nemerov from art and art history. Each lecture session is usually apportioned among three of the professors, but there are periodic discussion segments in which they all participate.

The course will be offered again in the spring of 2016. More information is available on our website

Back Issues: Finding Unexpected Currency in the Pages of an Iconic Western Magazine

Sunset magazine covers from June 1978, July 1976 and July 1979. (Images via Stanford University Library)

Bill MarkenBill Marken is the former editor-in-chief of Sunset magazine, and other print and digital publications. He spent a year at the Bill Lane Center for the American West as a visiting scholar, researching a book on Sunset's influence on the West's postwar boom period. Here, Bill reflects on his time at Stanford and how it shaped his research.

When I first came to the Bill Lane Center for the American West for what turned out to be an eye-opening year, I wrote that I was developing a “narrative history of Sunset Magazine’s great success and influence in the West following World War II.” I was intending a book that focused on the groundbreaking period of the magazine’s two chief editors who preceded me: Walter Doty and Proctor Mellquist. They, along with Laurence and sons L.W. “Bill” and Mel Lane of course, were there for the 1940s-1960s when Sunset vividly reflected and also powerfully shaped the distinctive lifestyle emerging during a time of unprecedented western population growth, prosperity, and creativity.  

My year at the Center helped turned that thinking around. True enough, Sunset’s postwar Doty/Mellquist period was extremely fertile, and the pages of the magazine were full of the new: midcentury modernism, leafy suburbs, back yard pools and barbecues, road trips with the station wagon, early ancestors of nachos. But the feedback and inspiration I got from the Center’s workshops, a public seminar, and discussions with colleagues gave me a deeper appreciation and understanding of the time I was at Sunset.

From the late 1960s and well into the 1980s, the pages of the magazine reflected the changing West. Sunset also dived deeply into two especially critical subjects that are getting considerable attention at the Center today: the California Coast and water.

During my 32 years on the magazine (1964-1996, the last 15 years as editor in chief), Sunset also ventured into new ground – the threats to the West’s precious natural resources and the pressures of escalating population growth and development. At the Bill Lane Center last year, I was struck with how much of Sunset’s early environmental efforts overlapped with the Center’s current activities and how relevant some of those same complex issues are today.

From the late 1960s and well into the 1980s, the pages of the magazine reflected the changing West: the battle over Redwood National Park, alternatives to DDT in home gardens, UC Santa Cruz’s organic garden, threats to Tahoe, and much more. Sunset also dived deeply into two especially critical subjects that are getting considerable attention at the Center today: the California Coast and water.

The California Coastal Plan was triggered by a grass-roots storm that put an initiative on the 1972 ballot to protect the length of the coast. Mel Lane became the first coastal commissioner in 1976. At the time Mel was running Sunset’s book division (with Bill in charge of the magazine), and around the magazine we welcomed his involvement. Mel was extremely well liked and universally trusted, and his role on the commission didn’t affect what we did in the magazine. We approached the subject with a business-as-usual attitude (the last thing Mel would want would be articles that compromised his position or glorified it), mainly with articles advising readers on where and how to appreciate the coastal areas that were at stake.

Redwood National Park on California's northwest coast, established in 1968. (Image: Tim Parkinson via Flickr)

The plan and commission were groundbreaking in their scope and became a model used throughout the nation – even today.

These days at the Bill Lane Center for the American West, a team including Bruce Cain, Todd Holmes, and Iris Hui are unearthing the California Coastal Plan’s origin, impact, and ongoing lessons for the future. I will follow their work closely.

Another large issue of that same period has even more relevance today. The drought of 1976-77 – short by today’s standards, extremely severe by any standard – shocked all Californians. On the magazine, we responded in the way we knew would offer readers the most help around their homes: with how-to articles on drip irrigation, mulching, new plumbing solutions, and other practical solutions for conserving water. Probably Sunset’s main contribution was offering readers a new palette of drought-tolerant plants to work with. These plant lists were reprinted by the hundreds of thousands for East Bay Municipal Utility District customers; they were updated during the next drought in the late 1980s. As publisher of Sunset magazine, Bill Lane himself helped the editors give readers a heads-up on the water crises ahead. Through his service on the board of California Water Service, he learned early on about the University of Arizona’s tree-ring research that demonstrated historic patterns of long-term, repeated droughts. A 1970s Sunset article about the research warned of even more droughts looming in the future. In hindsight, though, I have to say that we could have done more to explain the larger forces at work: that California’s water supplies and policies were reaching their limits, not prepared for a future of water crises that loomed ahead.

Those larger forces are just what the Center and its Water in the West project – a collaboration with the Stanford Woods Institute  – are facing head-on with initiatives such as “Understanding California’s Groundwater” and “Ensuring Water for Nature & People.”

As I chip away at my own book project, I now envision it stretching beyond the postwar boom into the era when we began to recognize and address environmental limits. 

Thanks to the Bill Lane Center – Bruce Cain, Kathy Zonana, Geoff McGhee, Todd Holmes, Nick Bauch, Iris Hui, Janny Choy, Kathy Montgomery, and Minh Chau Ho – for so kindly welcoming me and expanding my perspective.

Chau Ho Heads East – At Least for Now

We’re proud to announce that Minh Chau Ho, the Center’s program associate, is headed to the University of Michigan later this month to begin the fully funded Frontiers master’s program in ecology and evolutionary biology.

In her nearly two years at the Center, Chau has coordinated our undergraduate offerings: research assistantships, summer internships, the American West interdisciplinary survey course and (last but not least) our Sophomore College field course, where she wrangled 12 sophomores as they traversed Wyoming to study energy issues.

Most of all, though, we will remember Chau as the intrepid leader, clad in a purple knit cap, whom we followed for 20 miles from Stanford to the Sea. We will miss her substantial contributions, but we are always excited when a member of our community gets a great opportunity to pursue a field she loves. Please join us in wishing happy trails to Chau.

Understanding California’s Wilderness Landscape

First protected in 1864, Yosemite was California’s First National Park. 100 years later, part of the park was designated as a wilderness under the Wilderness Act of 1964. (Photo: Kira Minehart)

Kira MinehartKira Minehart will graduate from Stanford in the spring of 2016 with a B.S. in earth systems and a notation in science communication from the Program in Writing in Rhetoric. She is interested in land use, ecology, and environmental communication. Her independent research through the Bill Lane Center for the American West attempts to measure the ecology of Californian wilderness areas using geospatial analysis.

The wilderness act of 1964 states that wilderness is “an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammelled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.” This legislation set aside 9.1 million acres of wilderness that has grown to over 104 million acres, with the majority located in the western U.S. These protected areas are devoid of roads, buildings, and motorized vehicles. Aside from these stipulations, the definition of wilderness is as fluid as a flowing river.

Figure 1. (click to enlarge)
1. Coast Range
4. Cascades
5. Sierra Nevada
6. Central California Foothills and Coastal Mountains
7. Central California Valley
8. Southern California Mountains
9. Eastern Cascades Slopes and Foothills
13. Central Basin and Range
14. Mojave Basin and Range
78. Klamath Mountains/California High North Coast Range
80. Northern Basin and Range
81. Sonoran Basin and Range
85. Southern California/Northern Baja Coast

For my research project, I attempted to define California’s wilderness areas through an academic approach integrating geospatial analysis and ecological data. My questions were: Which landscapes are most and least protected as federally designated wilderness areas? Which environmental factors do we deem congruent with the wilderness ideal?

I gathered data from two main sources for this project. The Wilderness Institute at the University of Montana’s College of Forestry and Conservation created the first dataset, which depicts the boundaries of federally protected wilderness areas in California. The second dataset contains “ecoregions,” which divide California into regions on the basis of biotic and abiotic features, including elevation, vegetation, geology, soils, climate, and more. James Omernik created this data in 1987 and has since collaborated with the EPA and other federal agencies to improve the results. For this analysis, I overlaid these two datasets, called shapefiles, in order to determine what ecoregions wilderness areas represented.

My preliminary results differed from my expectations based on the stereotypical perceptions of wilderness. I expected most of the protected wilderness to be in forest ecoregions, like the Sierra Nevada, Klamath Mountains, or Coast Range. Instead, I found that 42% of wilderness areas in California represented the Mojave Basin and Range ecoregion. This ecoregion is home to iconic National Parks like Joshua Tree and Death Valley. The Sierra Nevada ecoregion came in second place, including places like Yosemite and Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park. The Northern Basin and Range, which harbors only one wilderness area (South Warner Wilderness), and the Coast Range ecoregions were the least protected by wilderness areas.

Table 1. Representation of ecoregions in California’s wilderness areas. Nearly 14% of California’s area is protected as wilderness.

In order to provide one possible explanation for my findings, I decided to compare population data with my preliminary results. I overlaid my wilderness data with a shapefile of 2014 census data depicting population by county. My results show that population density and wilderness areas are generally inversely located. As urban sprawl continues to push the limits of human civilization further and further, population density will likely play a key role in determining which areas can be set aside as wilderness.

Figures 2-4. (click to enlarge) Map of California’s wilderness landscape including population density data. Colored polygons represent wilderness areas, where each color corresponds to a particular ecoregion. Shades of grey indicate population density. Darkest shades are high-density population, where lighter to white shades are low-density population centers.

I would love to continue this project by combining my results with existing datasets of socioeconomic, political, or biological features to learn more. For example, land price data could provide meaningful results about wilderness placement, as it would demonstrate whether or not the wilderness areas were designated based on economic concerns. Since California is an agricultural hotspot, I would also like to examine wilderness in relation to agricultural suitability. In both cases, I hypothesize that lands with high land rents or opportunity costs for alternate land uses wouldn’t be designated as wilderness areas.

These landscapes provide aesthetic, educational, and recreational benefits that are unique to their untrammeled boundaries. Aside from land cover, wilderness areas represent an invaluable land use demonstrated by ecosystem services and American culture. Henry David Thoreau once said, “In wildness is the preservation of the world.” I think wilderness areas have benefits still unknown to us, particularly regarding the ecosystem services they offer. A wilderness can never be re-established once destroyed, which is why I support further research of these areas. Through increasing our understanding of wilderness areas, we may predict and control the trajectory of land protection (or destruction) in the future. I simply hope that we can protect these places so future generations may enjoy and benefit from them.

Dynamics of Change in the 20th-Century Pacific Northwest

Treaty fishermen spearing salmon on rapids of the Columbia River near Celilo Falls, Oregon. Photograph taken by Arthur M. Prentiss before March 1957, when The Dalles Dam inundated the historic fishing site. (Public domain via University of Oregon Digital Collection)

John DoughertyJohn J. Dougherty joined the Center as a Postdoctoral Scholar after receiving his PhD in Ethnic Studies from the University of California-Berkeley. He is working on a book manuscript entitled "Flooded by Progress," a history of hydropower's transformation of the Columbia River Basin. An abbreviated book chapter was recently featured in Western Legal History.

In 1941, the United State Department of the Interior hired Woody Guthrie, the renowned American folksinger, to author a series of songs about the hydroelectric development of the Columbia River. Guthrie’s collection, known as the Columbia River Songs, sought to garner regional support for a new and unprecedented era of industrial development in the Pacific Northwest.

In his most famous ballad about the Columbia River, Guthrie sings: “Roll on Columbia, roll on/Your power is turning our darkness to dawn/So roll on, Columbia, roll on.” Guthrie’s ballad proved prophetic, as hydropower began to dramatically transform the region like never before. But by the 1970s the story had changed. Over thirty years of extensive industrial development had exacted a significant price on the region’s once abundant natural resources, and new policies of environmental protection and preservation emerged. In 1976, Joe Frazier, a columnist for The Associated Press, commented that the region’s once abundant natural resources had been sacrificed to the “god of cheap hydroelectric power.” It was obvious that the same technologies that made harvest possible in the first place now began to threaten it. 

As a postdoctoral scholar at the Bill Lane Center, I’m working on a book manuscript about this period of Pacific Northwest history, titled "Flooded by Progress." This project expands our understanding of this period in a too-often-overlooked way, by asking the question: what role did federal Indian tribes of the Pacific Northwest play in the demographic, economic and environmental transformation of the region in the second half of the 20th century?

The changing legal status of Native lands and resources was instrumental in both the industrial expansion of the region and the environmental changes associated with the increased development of natural resources.

This project examines the politics of federal Indian law and the changing environmental landscape in the Pacific Northwest from the 1940s to present. It argues that the changing legal status of Native lands and resources was instrumental in both the industrial expansion of the region and the environmental changes associated with the increased development of natural resources. This project directly utilizes Western environmental history to help narrate Native American and Pacific Northwest history. From the era of resource abundance of the late 1940s to the era of resource scarcity by the 1970s, environmental history provides a direct response to explaining shifts in Indian policy and natural resource management trends. And while this project is geographically and temporally located in the 20th-century Pacific Northwest, it reflects broader trends of demographic growth, environmental decline, and indigenous displacement that have characterized the American West. An abbreviated book chapter was recently featured in Western Legal History

I began my position with the Bill Lane Center for the American West in August 2014, and in my short time on campus, this project, as well as my scholarly trajectory in general, has taken both important and necessary directions. The overwhelming strength of the Center is their dedication to a multifaceted and interdisciplinary understanding of the American West, but in a way that extends beyond academia and promotes public engagement. The Center accomplishes this by bringing together scholars, journalists, policymakers, students, teachers, and most importantly, stakeholders in particular issues. Because of this mission, I have redirected key parts of my own work. The Center’s bi-weekly working group as well as its collaborations with Stanford’s Water in the West program and Woods Institute for the Environment has contributed a more nuanced and dynamic understanding of environmental policy, natural resource management, and regional politics to my current work. Additionally, the Center’s sophisticated use of data visualization and digital humanities has forced me to reconsider how my own scholarly work can be presented and disseminated to a broader nonscholarly audience. I look forward to another year of fruitful collaborations. 

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