Morris K. Udall’s contributions to the environment are unquestionably impressive. I am most intrigued and inspired however, by the times in his legislative career when Representative Udall engaged in contentious debates and difficult decisions. Alongside the creation of national parks, wilderness areas, and strip-mining legislation, lies the Central Arizona Project bill. This bill secured important water rights for Arizona to a portion of the Colorado River’s water, but it wasn’t the bill that Udall hoped it would be. It forced him into the difficult position of meeting the needs of Arizona residents and the concerns of conservationists.
Applying today’s understanding of wilderness, it’s hard to believe that Representative Udall advocated building a dam within the geologic Grand Canyon, but this was part of the original design behind his proposed legislation. Pressured by constituents, Udall downplayed the environmental impact of the proposed dam and touted the recreational benefits of its resultant reservoir. In 1965, Udall told the House of Representatives that the “reservoirs themselves would provide access to remote areas, now totally beyond the view of ordinary visitors . . . forming a river highway to scenes of hidden splendor.” (Udall, 1966)
Udall found opposition in a strong wilderness movement, emboldened by the Wilderness Act of 1964. The Sierra Club famously published ads in national newspapers that questioned the impact of the proposed dams and set off a firestorm of public response, effectively killing Udall’s proposed legislation. (Carson & Johnson, 2001).
What emerged as the Central Arizona Project bill was a plan proposed by Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall that left out the Grand Canyon dams. Mo Udall expressed pleasure with the outcome of the bill, saying that it let Arizona “have its cake and eat it too – build [the Central Arizona Project] and have the Grand Canyon left as it is.” (Carson & Johnson, 2001, p. 128) Much later though, Udall wrote, “In hindsight, what amazes me most about the dams we nearly built . . . was how cavalier the process was. Here were congressmen nonchalantly contemplating the drowning of hundreds of miles of free-flowing rivers – rivers that most of us had never seen, except perhaps from a plane.” (Carson & Johnson, 2001, p. 124)
This conflict, between the needs of individuals and the need to preserve wild spaces, has been a major focus of courses I’ve taken. In the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, as in Central Arizona, there are a variety of users, including foresters, homeowners, and recreation enthusiasts. Our Wilderness Philosophy class learned to treat these user-groups with respect and gain perspective through their viewpoints. I learned that the familiarity with outdoor spaces that Mo Udall lacked through the Central Arizona Project are experiences I can promote in my future career.
After obtaining a degree in Outdoor Education, my goal is to direct a college outdoor program. In this capacity, I will educate young people about the environment and inspire them to seek outdoor experiences and protect the environment. This will help them avoid being ‘cavalier’ with our natural resources, as Udall felt he had been at one point, and inspire them to protect our natural world. Coursework in Field Interpretive Techniques will help me educate them about the land and my Outdoor Skills experiences will help them travel while leaving no trace.
Mo Udall’s musings on one river reminded me of a moment I had standing on a sandbar on the Wisconsin River. I had led a group of freshmen from the University of Wisconsin canoeing here, as part of an outdoor orientation program I helped start. I looked out on the group and the river as they prepared dinner and had an important realization: I was miserable.
I had been working as a web developer for the previous six years at the University, in a job that didn’t inspire my best work or personal fulfillment. I was also in the midst of a stressful separation and divorce, an experience that Mo Udall also had to live through. That experience on the river inspired me to quit my job and come back to school. My subsequent life journey has included my first visits to a Wilderness Area and the Grand Canyon.
Thinking about my own life-changing moments on the Wisconsin River, the Chicago River, the Grand Canyon, and other amazing and inspiring places, I wonder how often Mo Udall might have looked out on similar natural treasures and considered balancing the needs of individuals with those of our natural environment. Learning of Mo Udall’s contributions to our environmental heritage, but also of his dilemma with the Central Arizona Project, will impact my career as an environmental educator as I help students make decisions about our natural world and how we use it.