Gold was responsible for Baker County’s birth, but beef is truly the place’s most lasting economic legacy.
It’s wholly appropriate, then, that the Oregon Cattlemen’s Association was founded here, and most fitting that the organization will celebrate its centennial here this weekend.
The miners arrived in 1861, and, given the prodigious appetites miners tend to work up, and the utter absence of supermarkets, cattle herds soon followed.
Raising beef has been a mainstay of the county’s, and the region’s, economy every since.
Which is hardly surprising, because this is good cattle country.
There’s ample water, flat ground suitable for growing hay and alfalfa for winter feed, and hundreds of thousands of acres of rangeland for spring, summer and fall grazing.
Baker County, with an inventory of 123,700 head in 2012, has the fourth-largest cattle herd among Oregon’s 36 counties, trailing Malheur (276,000), Klamath (187,000) and Harney (161,000).
Gross sales of beef cattle from the county totaled $53.6 million in 2012.
Ranching is, as always, a tough and tenuous business. But the past few years have been good ones, in general, and Oregon ranchers picked the right place to have their big celebratory bash.
Compromise is a necessary ingredient in the messy business of making laws, but too often, it seems, legislators act as though that word is a synonym for capitulation.
This misses the reality of a true compromise, which is that each side gives up something, in exchange for gaining something else.
The Oregon Legislature has a chance to forge just such a compromise, but the opportunity seems to be slipping away in Salem.
This deal, which Gov. John Kitzhaber proposed this month, has the potential to achieve two goals vital to the state’s future.
Oregon and federal officials need to respond quickly to the Baker County Board of Commissioners’ June 5 declaration of a drought emergency.
The need for state and federal aid, which the county’s declaration is intended to summon, becomes more likely with the passage of each dry day.
On Wednesday evening a range fire near Huntington forced the temporary closure of the westbound lanes of Interstate 84.
The blaze indicates how dry the county’s rangelands already are, a week before the solstice.
Those rangelands are a vital source of summer forage for the county’s beef cattle herd — a $53 million business in 2012 — but even places that don’t burn might be useless for grazing.
The county’s only commercial fruit-grower, Eagle Valley Orchard near Richland, has already suffered a major loss due to a hard freeze in April.
And a looming shortage of irrigation water could cause big problems for farmers and ranchers throughout the county.
It could well be, of course, that Baker County will get by without any assistance — we’ve certainly done so before during difficult circumstances.
But the commissioners were wise to take action before the situation turns into a crisis.
Now their counterparts at the state and federal levels need to do the same.
If the federal government thinks groups that toss around words such as “liberty” deserve extra scrutiny as to their tax-exempt status, just imagine what that gargantuan enterprise might do with a detailed map of you, at the sub-cellular level.
Recently, with nearly daily revelations about the feds’ efforts to find out what you’re saying, and to prevent you from finding out what they’re up to, even a staunch defender of the benevolence of an omnipotent government must wonder whether his trust has been misplaced.
Last week’s U.S. Supreme Court ruling, which validates the practice of having police take DNA samples from people who have been arrested, but not convicted, only thickens the Orwellian clouds of concern about our lack of privacy.
Justice Antonin Scalia, the renowned conservative who was joined in his dissent by the High Court’s most liberal justices, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan, neatly summarized the possible, and troubling, ramifications:
“Make no mistake about it: Because of today’s decision, your DNA can be taken and entered into a national database if you are ever arrested, rightly or wrongly, and for whatever reason,” Scalia wrote in his dissent.
But happily, this prospect is not a certainty in Oregon.
The portrait of Grant County sketched in a story in The Oregonian last week was far from a flattering portrayal of our neighbor to the southwest.
We’re skeptical, though, that that portrait, as outlined in the story about the possible release from prison of convicted murderer Sidney Dean Porter, is anything close to accurate, for Grant County or the many other places in Eastern Oregon with similar demographics.
On April 7, 1992, Porter used a piece of firewood to beat to death John Day Police officer Frank Ward.
We’ll start with the obvious: Smoking inside a car when kids are there is dumb.
Among confined spaces, where secondhand smoke poses a health risk, few are more confined than a car.
Oregon legislators, as the makers of law are wont to do, believe this is an issue which requires government intervention.
The proposed update to Baker City’s Transportation System Plan has some residents concerned, and we understand why.
Designed as a guide for how the city’s system of streets, sidewalks and paths develops over the next 20 years or so, the plan, not surprisingly, covers quite a lot of ground.
And although none of the myriad projects in the plan is set in stone (or, rather, in asphalt or concrete), any of them could become reality.
This could have major effects not only on residents’ property, but also on their pocketbooks.
We probably won’t know for some years whether the agreement announced last week resolving a lawsuit about killing wolves in Oregon is a milestone or merely a footnote.
We hope for the former.
There are reasons to be optimistic.
The deal is a rare example of collaboration between pro-wolf groups, which sued the state in 2011 to prevent officials from killing wolves that had attacked livestock, and cattle ranchers who worry that a burgeoning wolf population will decimate their herds.
The discovery of genetically modified wheat in an Eastern Oregon field this spring poses a major threat, not to our health but to our economy.
In terms of quantity, the discovery was minor.
A wheat farmer found the plants in a field that is fallow this year, meaning it was not seeded to produce a crop to harvest.
Six years have passed since Wallowa-Whitman National Forest officials announced they were planning to ban motor vehicles on some forest roads.
And for almost the whole of that time, officials have urged forest users who have an interest in the Travel Management Plan (TMP) to be as specific as possible in commenting on the proposal.
Some critics of the TMP have been reluctant to do so, citing the reasonable concern that to list the roads they want to remain open is tantamount to sacrificing all the other roads when, in truth, they don’t want motor vehicles prohibited on any road where such vehicles can go now.
In 2007, more than 6,000 people signed a petition opposed to any road closures.
No doubt that remains a popular idea among local residents.
But it’s also clear, thanks to the Wallowa-Whitman’s recent release of a detailed study of written comments about the TMP that the forest received last spring, that many people who oppose road closures in general also heeded the advice to be specific in advocating for their position.
People who support restrictions on motor vehicles, by contrast, were, with relatively few exceptions, content to sign one of two form letters, both of which read rather like a press release from an environmental group.
Those two letters accounted for 76 percent of the 3,340 comments the Wallowa-Whitman received between March 16, 2012, when a version of the TMP was released to the public, and June 14, 2012.
That TMP, which would have banned motor vehicles from more than 3,000 miles of roads — roughly half the mileage open now — was withdrawn a month after it was unveiled.
Letters from opponents of the TMP, though small in numbers compared with proponents’ form letters, were rich both in passion for the topic and in detailed knowledge about the role roads play in the public’s use of the Wallowa-Whitman.
TMP opponents wrote about gathering firewood, picking huckleberries, exploring on ATVs, hunting with elderly companions who can no longer hike long distances over rough terrain but still like to go after a buck.
To put it simply, these letters constitute perhaps the most vivid description we’re likely to ever read about how this 2-million-acre swath of public property is actually used by the people who go there most often.
Of course the Wallowa-Whitman is not their exclusive domain. Public land belongs to every American. We’re not suggesting that a form letter advocating for road closures, signed by someone who’s never visited the Wallowa-Whitman, should be ignored.
Still and all, we hope forest officials, as they work on a new version of the TMP over the next few years, understand that a proposal which might seem like a reasonable compromise, based on road mileages and percentages laid out in a chart, doesn’t necessarily address how people are actually using the forest.
Forest officials have said repeatedly over the years that they want people to submit specific comments about the TMP. The people who worry about the effects of restrictions on motor vehicle access have done precisely that. The next TMP won’t fully satisfy all of those people, but it should at least show that forest officials were as diligent in reading the comments as forest users were in writing them.