When the Alaska Legislature created Palmer Hay Flats State Game Refuge in 1975, its boundary encompassed most publicly owned wetlands between the upstream end of Rabbit Slough and the mouth of Cottonwood Creek.
Wetlands don't respect surveyed boundary lines. Although the wetlands on private property were part of the same complex and were just as valuable as those afforded protection, they were not included in the refuge.
Now 40 years old, the 45-square-mile refuge has grown into one of the Matanuska-Susitna Borough's most popular destinations for hunters, anglers and birdwatchers. The refuge is managed by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game.
Since the late 1980s the State of Alaska has acquired six once-private parcels in and adjacent to the refuge through purchases and donations. Several additional parcels were gained in trades with the Mat-Su Borough. A bill winding its way through the legislature seeks to add these additional parcels to the refuge. All told, House Bill 153 could add nearly 3,000 acres to the refuge.
Adding state-owned wetlands
The bill is the brainchild of Tom Rothe, a retired Fish and Game waterfowl biologist. He has been chomping at the bit for more than a decade, wanting to legally add these valuable parcels to the refuge. Past administrations either weren't friendly to the idea or were not willing to make the effort.
"The governors wouldn't support adding lands to wildlife refuges," Rothe says, "and proposed bills were just grist for the political mill. We couldn't find a sponsor in the legislature."
Several months ago Rothe pitched the idea to the Alaska Board of Game. They agreed it was a worthwhile endeavor and lent their support. However, changes to refuge boundaries require legislative action.
A bill expanding the refuge to include the acquired parcels was introduced by Rep. Jim Colver, R-Palmer, earlier this session. In his sponsor statement, Rep. Colver called Palmer Hay Flats "one of the most important year round wildlife and outdoor recreation areas in Alaska."
I recently met Rothe and another former Fish and Game wildlife biologist, Herman Griese, in the refuge to inspect the parcels they hoped to add. Griese is a board member with Alaskans for Palmer Hay Flats.
Griese brought a trash bag and was picking up litter when Rothe and I pulled in to the Cottonwood Creek parking area. He never really stopped.
Rothe brought his dog, a bewhiskered female Drahthaar named Atty. Atty, who knows a thing or two about ducks, was unable to lift her nose from the mud and khaki-colored sedges for more than a second. Her goal was the same as mine: to find some birds.
I've slogged through the refuge in fall, seldom in spring. Because it's spring, I was anticipating a cacophony of duck and goose voices rising from the wetlands and falling from the sky. Nothing. Griese pointed out a number of gulls on the horizon, as if that would suffice. He lives on the edge of the wetlands and predicted the waterfowl would arrive on or about April 12, "as usual."
Atty and I were a day early. Lending support to Griese's prognostication, a few snowflakes drifted to the ground and extinguished themselves in the mud.
Although the wetlands were wet and muddy, the larger lakes were still frozen, albeit not for many more days. Gazing south across miles of wet marsh, I could easily envision the vast flocks of birds beating their way north by west towards the refuge. Their refuge. Our refuge.
The Palmer Hay Flats were both a public and private resource for the colonists and homesteaders who settled in the Palmer area. There they grazed livestock and cut hay, but also hunted and fished for food they couldn't easily grow or buy.
During the Great Alaska Earthquake of 1964 the flats subsided several feet. Brackish water from Knik Arm flooded the flats, creating a huge expanse of estuarine and freshwater wetlands. These wetlands attract more than 100,000 ducks, 50,000 geese and 5,000 swans during spring migration, with fewer waterfowl dropping into the refuge in fall.
"The refuge serves as an ideal stopover in the migration corridor that connects western Alaska and Cook Inlet with Prince William Sound," Rothe says.
Many waterfowl and birds of other denominations remain all summer to nest and rear their young. The expansive wetlands and adjacent wooded areas support large numbers of moose – as many as 500 in some winters – and furbearers.
Providing access for humans
In Alaska, large numbers of salmon, waterfowl, moose and other animals attract hunters, anglers and wildlife viewers. One remarkable thing about Alaska's wildlife refuges is that, unlike other states, our state refuge system protects fish and wildlife from incompatible development, but not from hunters, trappers, and anglers. The idea is that as long as the habitat is protected – and everyone obeys the hunting and fishing laws –wild things will replenish themselves naturally.
One of the problems with the original refuge boundary was its lack of suitable human access. The most accessible trailheads for boats, all-terrain vehicles, and even walkers were situated on the east and west ends of the refuge, but they were on private property. Beginning in the late 1980s, Fish and Game worked with the Alaska Department of Natural Resources (DNR) to acquire a couple of parcels of borough land that extended into the wetlands through land trades. Even then, much of the best public access to the refuge remained blocked by private parcels.
Private lands became much less valuable after they were inundated by water – at least less valuable to anyone wanting to build a subdivision or shopping mall. But flooding the hay flats enhanced the habitat for birds and other wildlife. When you use the idiom "for the birds," you have to consider one's point of view.
As landowners gradually realized they were paying taxes for large parcels they were unlikely to develop, private non-profit conservation organizations stepped in to offer them fair value, tax incentives, and other reasons to sell. Organizations such as Great Land Trust and The Nature Conservancy raised more than $1.5 million, which was supplemented with conservation grants, state duck stamp money, and sport fish access funds, to purchase private inholdings from willing sellers. The properties were then donated to the state under the condition they be incorporated into the refuge.
The two most popular trailheads into the refuge – Cottonwood Creek and Rabbit Slough – were acquired by these means.
Ducks Unlimited, the national organization dedicated to purchasing and preserving waterfowl habitat, has also contributed substantial funds to purchase private parcels in and next to the refuge.
The newly acquired lands cannot be managed in accordance with a comprehensive refuge management plan until they are officially incorporated into the refuge by statute.
Great Land Trust
The most recent acquisition was the purchase, by Great Land Trust, of the Rex Turner property, 917 acres of wetlands and forested coastal bluff along the northern edge of the refuge. Great Land Trust raised $1.5 million from a variety of public and private grants and donations, including hundreds of individual supporters, to purchase the parcel in 2013. The property was immediately transferred to state ownership.
The former Turner property offers the single-best route into the refuge from the north side. Great Land Trust plans to stay involved, and is currently raising funds to build two new trailheads and a 4-mile-long rustic trail along the bluff.
The House of Representatives passed HB 153 and sent it to the Senate on April 8.
Through an administrative oversight, HB 153 omitted several areas, primarily a parcel of land managed jointly by the Department of Natural Resources and Fish and Game at the west end of the refuge, where the Cottonwood Creek parking lot and trailhead are located. The Senate Resources Committee has amended the bill by adding the Cottonwood Creek parcel.
Adding the parcels to the refuge costs nothing. It won't add to Fish and Game's workload, and it doesn't restrict any uses that aren't already affected by refuge regulations.
Every April Alaskans look and listen for the birds returning from their mysterious annual business trips to the south.
There is no surer sign of approaching spring than the sudden appearance of Canada geese that populate grassy athletic fields in Anchorage, the sandhill cranes that yodel and dance on agricultural fields in the Mat-Su Valley, or the myriad waterfowl that enliven wetlands across northern and western Alaska.
Most of Alaska's legislators also fly south for the winter – at least as far south as Juneau. When the legislature adjourns in mid-April, our senators and representatives won't be far behind the first waves of returning waterfowl.
I shouldn't speak for Atty – she's not my dog – but I'm pretty sure she's for the birds, and I'm for the birds, and I'd like to think our legislators are for the birds too.
Rick Sinnott is a former Alaska Department of Fish and Game wildlife biologist. The views expressed here are the writer's own and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News. Contact him at rickjsinnott@gmail.com