The emergency room at Mercy Hospital in Williston, North Dakota
The Bakken oil boom in western North Dakota has put a tremendous strain on the rural region’s small hospitals. A declining, older population and a rapidly expanding younger, uninsured population; a major overload on emergency facilities, accompanied by skyrocketing bad debt; nurse and staff recruitment has become much more difficult due to high housing prices and high competitive wages in the oil patch; and physician recruitment, always a problem for rural areas, has gotten worse as needs soar.
By John McChesney
I met Randall Pederson, right, in his cramped office. As I start my interview, he yawns. He’s sitting behind a desk piled high with papers surrounded by shelves, and also piled high with papers. Pederson is President and CEO of the Tioga Medical Center, a 25-bed hospital in the town of Tioga, population around 2,000, although Pederson says it’s anybody’s guess how many people live here now. Several towns have more than doubled in size in the last couple of years. Pederson not only runs this hospital; he also serves on the town’s volunteer ambulance squad. Thus, the yawn. The squad is now making a lot more runs in the middle of the night. “They say New York City never sleeps,” Pederson says. “Well, I don’t know if western North Dakota ever sleeps.”
Like many small town hospitals around here, the Tioga Medical Center has seen a dramatic leap in ambulance runs and emergency room patients. “In 2007 we would see 600 patients in ER per year,” Pederson says. “In 2012, we anticipate seeing over 2,000. So in a five-year period, we have more than tripled our emergency room visits. We are seeing a lot more industrial accidents, major trauma, many of those involving car accidents, because there’s a lot more vehicles on the roads these days.”Many of those accidents involve a 40-ton tank truck colliding with a 5,000-pound passenger car. Those can bring several patients with horrible injuries into the small ER at the same time. The one doctor on call has to scramble to get some help. Read more »
Last modified Mon, 1 Oct, 2012 at 10:34
By John McChesney
So here's a problem you would think banks would love to have: more deposit money than ever before, coming in from people reaping the rewards of the oil boom in western North Dakota. Lease payments, royalties, and money from property sales are pouring in to the small independent banks of the many small towns in the region. Why is that a problem? Because banks make money from loans, not from deposits.
Gary Peterson, along with his family, owns the Lakeside Bank in New Town. I first interviewed him about a year ago, and didn’t notice the hint of gray showing along his temples. He’s smiling as he tells me, “The amount of liquidity in the system is amazing. We’re growing at 20% a year in deposit growth, which for rural North Dakota is unheard of. Before this happened, I think a lot of bankers would have told you that one their concerns is how we going to sustain the deposit side of our balance sheet. As the elderly would leave or die, those deposits would go to their kids who are usually elsewhere. Totally different story these days, we’re wondering what to do with it, frankly.”
The story of imbalance between money in the vault – so to speak – and money out on loan is common across the region. David Grubb is President of the Bank of Tioga, an unassuming, single story building on the town’s main drag. “We’ve seen a tremendous rise in deposits. The last couple of years we’ve grown at about a 26% clip. The growth rate has been very robust, and it also causes some concern.” Grubb adds that the fed has kept interest rates so low that that treasury yields are practically zero, so there’s no haven for new deposits there.
“Causes some concern” and “we’re wondering what to do with it” seem like odd sentiments in the booming economy of the oil patch. But until a few years ago, these banks were making mostly agricultural loans to farmers and ranchers, people with whom they had a personal relationship (Read More)
Last modified Tue, 23 Apr, 2013 at 19:40
By John McChesney
Note: A radio version of this story ran on NPR's Morning Edition today.
Theodore Roosevelt’s Elkhorn Ranch in North Dakota is often called the “Walden Pond of the West.” But Roosevelt’s ranch today is in the midst of an oil boom that is industrializing the local landscape. Critics say a proposed gravel pit and a bridge could destroy the very thing that made such a lasting impression on Roosevelt: the restorative power of wilderness.
It’s not easy to reach the place that Roosevelt said created the best memories of his life. Over 30 miles of dirt road, then and a mile-and-a-half hike, lie between a visitor and the ranch. Roosevelt National Park Superintendent Valerie Naylor drove me out on a Sunday. We didn’t see another person at the ranch site, which sits on the banks of the Little Missouri River.
Naylor showed me the old hand-dug well and the ranch house’s massive foundation stones, cut from granite. “That’s what’s so special about the Elkhorn ranch,” she told me, “We don’t have anything that’s reconstructed here – we just have a site and it’s the way that it was – for the most part – when Roosevelt first found it in summer of 1884. So it’s very special.”
The long drive out here takes you across the North Dakota Badlands, which are in fact beautiful, not bad. Because they made for hard travelling, early French trappers called them so. The area is crisscrossed with ravines (called coulees), meadows at bottom, tree-lined on the sides, and bordered by gray and red walls. Their fantastical formations fracture the horizon. Naylor said the site’s isolation is its charm. “You can see and hear things that many people have never seen or heard,” she explained, “That is, a landscape without any development, or minimal and all natural sounds, birds, wind in the cottonwood trees, and that’s exactly what Roosevelt heard and wrote about while he was here at the Elkhorn ranch.” (Read More)
Last modified Tue, 23 Apr, 2013 at 19:40
Dustin Bleizeffer is editor-in-chief of Wyofile, one of the best sources of information from the cowboy state. He is one of our contributing editors. From 2000 to 2010, he was energy reporter for the Casper Star-Tribune.
By Dustin Bleizeffer, Wyofile.com
Once again, the oil and gas industry’s bulldog lobbying group, Western Energy Alliance (formerly IPAMS, or Independent Petroleum Association of Mountain States), is grossly misleading the public and elected officials about the supposed suppression of jobs and revenue from proposed energy development in the West.
Western Energy Alliance (WEA) — whose supposedly mom-and-pop-sized members include Anadarko Petroleum Corp., EnCana Oil & Gas, Halliburton, Chesapeake Energy and Schlumberger — hired consulting firm SWCA Environmental Consultants to look at 22 proposed oil and gas projects in Wyoming and Utah that were subject to review under the National Environmental Policy Act.
WEA insists there are rigid timelines that federal regulators must abide by in any NEPA analysis, but remains silent on the industry’s tendency to oversize projects and change plans midway through analysis. Nonetheless, some projects were delayed by three years, which is “preventing the creation of 64,805 jobs, $4.3 billion in wages, and $14.9 billion in economic impact every year,” according to WEA. (Read on)
Water returns to Boulder Harbor on Lake Mead. But how long will it remain? (Photo: John Fleck)
By John Fleck
There’s five feet of snow now at Bison Lake, on Colorado’s west slope north of Glenwood Springs. Melted and measured by the folks who run the federal SNOTEL network, that translates to 15.6 inches of “snow water equivalent”, the metric that matters once spring and summer warmth start its trip down into the Colorado River.
The water nerds pronounce SWE as “swee”, a word that sounds vaguely like a ski move, but it’s really the most important number in western water right now, the measure of water supply for the year to come, sitting in the relatively small patch of high country that feeds the entire Colorado River Basin. Last year at this time, the SWE values at Bison Lake were nearly twice as high, and the bounty just kept building. This year things aren’t looking so good.
In December, I paid a visit to Boulder Harbor on the west shore of Lake Mead to see the results for myself. Boulder Harbor is one of those places where the dropping reservoir is made tangible. Two years ago, its boat ramp was closed, its shrinking harbor abandoned to an epic flock of American coots feasting on the critters left in the muck and an osprey that entertained me with a spectacular dive to pick off a stranded fish. Now, thanks to last year’s big snowpack, the water’s back, and boaters have displaced my osprey and coots.
But things appear to be headed back in the other direction. On its face, the effect is clear. After rising with last year’s big snowpack, Lake Mead and Lake Powell, the Colorado River’s two largest reservoirs, are forecast to drop a collective 42 feet in surface elevation over the next year, according to the latest forecast from the US Bureau of Reclamation.
But the while those results are in some sense obvious – reservoirs go up in a wet year and down in a dry one – there’s a subtler problem buried in the Bureau of Reclamation’s data. (Read more)
Last modified Fri, 3 Aug, 2012 at 12:36
Photographs from "Real Rural" by Lisa M. Hamilton
On Monday morning, many BART riders will look up from their newspapers, iPads, Kindles, and smartphones to see the faces of farmers, rodeo riders, young smalltown boxers, and country poets staring back at them, thanks to an innovative public information campaign designed to connect urban Californians with their rural compatriots.
"Real Rural" is the product of a collaboration between writer and photographer Lisa M. Hamilton, the nonprofit organization Roots of Change, the Bill Lane Center for the American West, and the Creative Work Fund, which supports artists working in the nine Bay Area counties. On a media fellowship from our Center, Hamilton spent much of 2011 criscrossing California, capturing offbeat portraits of the state's remarkable scenery and seeking out stories about the diverse residents of what she calls "the rest of California."
Real Rural is meant to start a new conversation, between two parts of California that are at best disconnected, and often at odds. Many people in our cities think they already know the story of rural California: who’s there and how they think, their values and their struggles. I have aimed to demonstrate that in fact this place and its people are far more diverse and dynamic than most of us from outside realize.
Working with Geoff McGhee, the Center's creative director of media and communications, and the San Francisco design firm MacFadden and Thorpe, Hamilton has crafted an elegant, interactive and multimedia rich website — realrural.org — that tells the stories of 20 rural Californians, as well as posters on BART. Later this year, the project will be featured on mass transit and billboards in Los Angeles and Sacramento, and in exhibition at the California Historical Society in San Francisco.
"Real Rural" is featured in the "Insight" section of the Sunday San Francisco Chroncle and will be featured in other media this week, including KQED Radio's "Forum" on Tuesday from 10 to 11am and public radio's "California Report" magazine on Friday afternoon.
We hope you can join us to celebrate "Real Rural" California at the California Historical Society in downtown San Francisco on Tuesday, January 31, from 5 to 7pm, where Lisa will talk about the journey she took to find these extraordinary stories from the rest of California. Please click here for more information and to RSVP.
Last modified Mon, 30 Jan, 2012 at 9:36
Building on the work of the Rural West Initiative, the Bill Lane Center for the American West will hold a conference titled "The Rural West: Toward a Regional Approach to Common Issues." Scholars, journalists, policymakers, and others are invited to propose papers for the conference, which will be held October 12-14, 2012 at the David Eccles Conference Center in Ogden, Utah.
Last modified Thu, 26 Jan, 2012 at 11:27
The Central Arizona Project carries Colorado River water to Phoenix. (Photo: John Fleck)
By John Fleck
As western water leaders converged on Las Vegas in December 2001, Southern California’s inability to contain its voracious appetite seemed finally to be bumping up against reality - there is only so much water in the Colorado River.
Shared among seven states and Mexico via a shifting, uncertain set of bargains, the river was running up against the era of limits.
For years, California had been living large off the surplus of others. It slurped Colorado River leftovers other states weren’t using, pumping it 250 miles to rapidly growing coastal cities. But as the rest of the southwest grew and began taking its rightful share of the Colorado, California faced an urgent deadline. It had to come up with a plan to cut its use or see a large share of its water supply simply cut off on Jan. 1, 2003.
Testifying at a Dec. 10 House field hearing, Larry Anderson, head of Utah’s Division of Water Resources, was blunt. If California did not tame its appetites, the other states dependent on the Colorado River expected the federal government to step in and enforce the “Law of the River”, the maze of laws that govern distribution of the river’s water. “Appropriate enforcement is critical to protecting our rights,” Anderson said. 1
In response, Southern California Congresswoman Grace Napolitano's question to the federal government’s top water official sounded more like a plea. If California is making a good faith effort, she asked, could the Golden State have more time? Coming from a representative of the region’s largest state and economic powerhouse, the plea also contained a hint of a threat: “California cannot afford the immediate reduction by that amount of water,” she said. “Our economy reaches out to the neighboring states so that if we suffer, so do the rest of the states around us.”
Sitting at the witness table, Interior Department’s assistant secretary Bennett Raley responded with what, in the coded language of western water law, amounted to an ultimatum. His boss, Interior Secretary Gale Norton, was ready to cut California’s share. If the state missed the deadline, “the Secretary will have to use all means at her disposal to ensure that she is in compliance with the Law of the River.” 2
The Colorado River carves a defining course through North American geography and history. Winter snow falling in the Rockies, mostly in Colorado and Wyoming, feeds it. The Colorado and its longest tributary, the Green, spend much of their lives in the deep, arid canyon country of the arid interior western United States.
The river and its tributaries pass through seven U.S. states – Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada and California – before making a short run between the Mexican states of Sonora and Baja California to the Gulf of California. (Read more)
Last modified Fri, 3 Aug, 2012 at 12:43
(Graphic: Geoff McGhee)
From High Country News
By Jon Christensen, Jenny Rempel, and Judee Burr
The Great Recession, it turns out, may have been good for one thing in the West: private land conservation. From the tiny Orient Land Trust in Colorado’s San Luis Valley, which has nearly doubled its holdings to 2,260 acres, to the 138,041 acres of ranchland protected by the California Rangeland Trust over the last five years, statewide and local land trusts in the West have done better than ever recently, even as many environmental advocacy groups continue to trim budgets and federal funding for conservation falters.
The federal Land and Water Conservation Fund, which agencies rely on to acquire valuable private lands, suffered a 38 percent cut and protected just over 500,000 acres over the last five years. During the same period, private nonprofit land trusts protected 20 times as much undeveloped land — 10 million acres nationwide, according to data in a new census of 1,700 land trusts in the national Land Trust Alliance.
Land trusts also grew in other ways, including a 19 percent increase in paid employees and contractors, a 36 percent increase in operating budgets, a 70 percent increase in volunteer numbers, and a near tripling of long-term endowments. Land trusts protect land by either buying it outright or paying for a conservation easement, which restricts or removes the landowner’s right to develop open land. Landowners can also donate property and easements and then receive a break on their income taxes from the federal government and some state governments. The latest gains bring the total area protected by the nation’s land trusts to 47 million acres — more than twice the area covered by all of the national parks in the Lower 48 states.
In fact, private land conservation is now shaping the future of much of the West as decisively as development.
Last modified Sun, 29 Jan, 2012 at 23:36