Cuyamaca : Park Plans Split Campers, Conservationists

Standing in a rolling meadow of sun-bleached grasses, Jack K. Shu reflected on the future of one of Southern California’s great natural resources--Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, a magnificent expanse of billowy meadows, pine-studded mountains and rushing streams just an hour’s drive from downtown San Diego.

“We could just put a fence around all this and not let anybody in,” said Shu, his arms reaching toward the bordering stands of black oak trees, their leaves now dappled in the burnt-yellow hues of fall. “On the other hand, we could put trails all over the place and have people running around everywhere. . . . We’ve got to strike some kind of balance.”

That sense of balance is the proclaimed goal of Shu and other state officials who are drafting a crucial, state-mandated plan that will dictate the future of the 25,000-acre park, a jewel in the state park system, for decades to come.

Preliminary plans have already prompted considerable criticism from environmentalists, equestrians, American Indians and other users of the 52-year-old park who say the proposals are distinctly unbalanced.

The heightening dispute pits conservationists against those who would like to see additional recreational development--notably equestrian groups. Getting criticism from both sides is Shu, state parks superintendent for the Cuyamaca region.

“The present park management is not sympathetic to horse riding use of the park,” warned Bernard J. Martin, a San Diego dentist and avid horseman, in a letter circulated among horse-riding groups.

But there are those who fear it might become more sympathetic to such uses. “It’s a very unique environment and we feel that the development that has already occurred is inconsistent with environmental and historic values,” said Byron Lindsley Jr., director of the Mountain Defense League, a conservation group. “Any further development is likely to further degrade those values.”

The dispute is akin to those occurring in many parks nationwide, where conservationists have squared off with horsemen and others seeking additional trails and recreational facilities. Last year, a bitter argument raged about the general plan for Henry W. Coe State Park near San Jose, again pitting equestrian interests against conservationists. At the core of such disagreements is a fundamental question: should more emphasis be placed on conservation of parks in their natural state or on development of recreational facilities for visitors?

The controversy over Cuyamaca’s future is likely to escalate until next April, when the State Park and Recreation Commission, an overseeing body appointed by the governor, is scheduled to vote on adopting the general plan for the park. In December, state officials expect to release a preliminary plan--including an important report on environmental effects--that will be circulated for public comments before the April meeting.

Although the general plan guarantees no financing and names no timetable, it is critical because it provides the basic park blueprint for decades to come, including guidelines on construction of trails and campsites, preservation of historic and wilderness areas, and prospective future land purchases. To date, only draft portions of the plan have

been made public.

It seems likely that positions will harden in coming months as the report nears final form.

The intensity of feeling about Cuyamaca is not surprising. San Diegans have long had a special vision of the park as a place apart from the urban fray, a place where city dwellers could escape to a cool, mountainous setting unlike almost any other in Southern California.

“Cuyamaca has always been San Diego’s special place,” said Lindsley, who, like many others, fondly recalls youthful excursions to the mountains. “In the middle of a basically arid, urban area, you have great forests, waterfalls, abundant wildlife . . . You just have something that’s unique.”

The record indicates just how deeply area residents feel about the Cuyamaca region. After the 1950 Conejos fire destroyed much of the park, San Diegans volunteered time and money to efforts to reseed the area. And in the early 1970s thousands of residents rose in opposition to development of nearby mountain property, a move that spawned bumper stickers and billboards and resulted in blocking development plans and the state’s eventual purchase of additional park acreage for preservation.

“We’ve never seen that kind of activism again,” noted Lindsley, one of the leaders of the “Save the Cuyamaca” movement.

This time, the threat to the park is not nearly as dramatic but conservationists maintain that the consequences could be just as severe.

“People go there in part to find solitude from the city,” noted Thomas Oberbauer, an environmental management specialist with San Diego County, which has expressed reservations about the state plans. “If there are too many campgrounds and too many people, the campgrounds just become mini-cities.”

The dispute centers on state plans to build additional campgrounds and trails in the park. Plans call for an increase in camping facilities to accommodate between 100 and 150 additional carloads of campers, according to preliminary estimates. Included are a prospective 20 to 30 campsites near Cuyamaca Lake, and 15 to 30 new equestrian campsites at the relatively uncluttered south end of the park. Also being contemplated are new trails--particularly connecting existing routes in the park’s southern tier.

Equestrian groups have been lobbying hard for additional campsites and trails. At a meeting last week, about 50 riding enthusiasts complained to state officials of unavailable campsites, a lack of facilities such as corrals and a shortage of trails to more remote areas. They and others described the park as by far the best horse-riding area available in San Diego County.

“We’ve got to disperse people off some of the heavily used trails and spread them out more,” said Carlton H. Williams, another equestrian advocate who spoke while riding horseback in the park on a recent morning. “We need more connecting trails.”

Others want fewer, not more, trails. Conservationists are particularly agitated the prospect of more equestrian camping and trails in the relatively undisturbed southern end of the park, providing access to heretofore unblemished wilderness areas such as East Mesa. Although horsemen assert that they are especially sensitive to the environment, some conservationists note that horse traffic can do damage to plant life, particularly since riders often veer off sanctioned trails and ride illegally on smaller side routes lined with heavy vegetation. The plans for horse-use expansion, Lindsley concluded, are “the product of intense political pressure from one interest group”--namely, horse riders.

Lindsley is not alone in his view. Thomas Oberbauer, the county planner, said park authorities “seem to be paying too much attention to equestrian people.”

If Shu and the other state officials can’t succeed in fashioning a successful compromise, there could be a rocky trail ahead. Said Lindsley: “If Cuyamaca was threatened with development that would . . . destroy the qualities that make it a special place, we would have to consider litigation.”

Shu is confident it won’t come to that. A Los Angeles native who came to Cuyamaca two years ago after five years of dealing with urban park issues in Los Angeles and two years as a planner in Sacramento, Shu rejected charges by some of the horsemen that at 33 he is too young and inexperienced for the job.

It’s just a question of park users adjusting to evolving views of resource preservation, he said.

“In the past, we were more lax in terms of many of these issues, resource protection and so forth,” said Shu. “We’re realizing more and more that parks in California and elsewhere are special places and they need protection.”

There is little doubt that Cuyamaca is a special place, both for its varied flora and wildlife and singular history. Its location high in the mountains between the desert to the east and the ocean to the west, creates a weather pattern that supports animal and plant life unusual in Southern California.

Growing within the park are 13 rare or endangered plants, according to state studies. Some examples: “Cuyamaca larkspur,” “San Diego tarweed,” “Hall’s monardella,” and “velvety false lupine.”

Animals wandering in the park include southern mule deer, mountain lion, coyote, gray fox and bobcat. A longtime park admirer recently recalled seeing a herd of more than 50 deer feeding. Birds include golden eagles, red-tailed hawk and several kinds of woodpeckers, whose rhythmic sounds resound in the quiet forests.

More than 250 prehistoric sites, including former villages, camps and crude drawings known as “petroglyphs,” attest to the area’s rich Indian history. Indeed, the name Cuyamaca is derived from a word used by area Indians, who traded information and goods with desert and coastal cultures.

The park, which was created in 1933, has other historical significance, serving as an early Spanish route for forays against Indian tribes. One tribal representative noted that many area Indians can still trace family origins to the park lands. In the mid-19th Century, the San Antonio-San Diego mail route ran briefly through the region, earning the nickname “The Jackass Mail” because of the necessity of using mules in the mountainous regions.

The park also includes the site of the Stonewall Mine and Cuyamaca City--a late 19th Century gold rush town where as many as 500 residents pursued the dream of gold. Today, very little remains of the one-time boom town.

On a recent morning a few miles south of the Stonewall site, Shu expressed hope for a successful compromise on the new state plan.

“We’ve got to come up with something between the various extremes,” said Shu, standing on one of the sloping meadows for which the park is justly famous. “All the sides have legitimate interests . . . I’d like to see the plan please everyone. And I think it probably will.”