Neighbors Working to Save Dunes From Mining

Political activism was the last thing on Charles and Jana Davis’ minds seven years ago when they choose the spot for their Lake Michigan vacation house.

But that hasn’t kept them out of a decades-old fray over mining the majestic dunes along the lake’s eastern shoreline. Nowadays, their weekend visits are devoted more to strategy sessions than sailing. Maps, aerial photos and legal documents cover their dining room table.

“This is such a beautiful area, and the way it’s being desecrated by this classic strip-mining is just criminal,” said Charles Davis, a Chicago architect.

He is president of Preserve the Dunes, which is battling TechniSand Inc. of nearby Bridgman. The 375-member group claims the mining company is violating terms of operating permits issued under a state law meant to protect the dunes--and is creating a nuisance besides.

TechniSand says it is obeying the law, and the Michigan Department of Environmental Quality agrees.

“I wonder if this isn’t a NIMBY thing--they like the products that come from sand but just want it done somewhere else,” said Jeffrey Fallon, vice president of TechniSand’s parent company, Fairmont Minerals of Chardon, Ohio.

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The dunes, formed over thousands of years as glaciers receded and winds blew sand from the basin that would form Lake Michigan, rise intermittently from the Indiana border to the eastern Upper Peninsula.

The most spectacular are hundreds of feet high and a mile or more wide. Topsoil and trees cover some; others are bare except for patches of dune grass.

“There’s no other freshwater dune system like this in the entire world,” said Tanya Cabala of the Muskegon-based Lake Michigan Federation.

Environmentalists see the dunes as geological wonders, home to richly diverse populations of birds and plants, that shouldn’t be mined--period.

From the industry’s perspective, mining dune sand is essential for the Michigan economy--particularly the auto industry--and does the environment relatively little harm.

“An amazingly small percentage of the dunes is open to mining, and there are some very clearly defined laws that limit what we can do,” Fallon said.

Most of the sand goes into molds that shape foundry products such as vehicle engine blocks. The rest is used in a variety of goods, from glass to toothpaste.

There’s plenty of sand elsewhere, but foundries prefer dune sand because of its uniform grain size. Also, it has fewer impurities than inland sand and high silica content, enabling it to withstand the intense heat of molten metals.

Dune mining was unregulated in Michigan until 1976, when a law was passed to minimize environmental damage without destroying the industry. It requires companies to obtain DEQ permits to remove the sand.

A 1989 law designated the most fragile and ecologically valuable dunes as “critical,” putting them off-limits to mining with a few exceptions.

Preserve the Dunes, which Davis founded last fall, has peppered the DEQ with complaints of alleged permit violations at a 194-acre TechniSand mine.

Among them: that the company is digging in areas not allowed under its permit; that its cleanup projects, fencing and signs to keep off-road vehicles away from the dunes are inadequate; and that one required permit has lapsed.

In a February letter, agency officials differed with the group on nearly every point. They acknowledged the permit had expired but blamed their own staffing shortage. A public hearing has been held on the company’s application to renew the permit, but the DEQ has not yet ruled.

Preserve the Dunes also claims the DEQ wrongly issued a permit for TechniSand to expand into a 126-acre site that is part of the “critical” dune network. DEQ officials say the project is permissible under exceptions in the 1989 law.

The critics say sand mining damages not just the environment but their quality of life as well.

They complain that mining trucks rumble along the two-lane Blue Star Highway day and night, creating a noisy nuisance and damaging the road. They grumble about sand from mining pits blowing into their houses and wells running dry because company dredging supposedly lowers water levels.

Fallon says he’s willing to seek compromise. But he draws the line at ending dune mining--which Davis acknowledges is his ultimate goal.

“He’s telling us to close down, pack our tents and jump in the welfare lines,” Fallon said.

Fallon acknowledges mining alters dune topography. But he says it’s less harmful than the houses and commercial buildings springing up.

And in contrast to bygone days when mining companies “just came in and scarred the earth,” they now must repair sites after finishing with them, Fallon said. He contends the wildlife habitat they create by building wetlands, digging ponds and planting native vegetation is as valuable as what’s lost.

Critics say the industry’s reclamation projects are a poor substitute for what nature took millenniums to produce.

“We had the largest, most spectacular coastal dune resource on any freshwater bodies in the entire world, and it has been systematically chipped away,” said Dave Dempsey, policy director for the Michigan Environmental Council.

How much sand has been removed is unknown. The state didn’t keep records until after the 1976 law took effect, said Rodger Whitener of the DEQ’s Geological Survey Division.

But he said the pace has slowed because foundries increasingly are recycling sand. About 2.5 million tons of dune sand are processed each year, down from perhaps 6 million a year before the 1976 law took effect.

Mining companies own or lease about 4,300 of the 285,000 acres of dune land covered by state regulations. Thirteen companies hold permits for about 2,000 of those acres, but only about 800 are being mined, Whitener said.

“It’s not a significant impact, if you consider the entire coastline,” he said. “However, if you live right next to [a mining site], it’s very emotional for you.”

It certainly is for Preserve the Dunes, the latest in a series of anti-mining organizations formed through the years. Whitener said it’s the only active group, although he sometimes gets complaints from individuals.

“We don’t benefit from sand mining,” said Deborah Kelley, a member of Preserve the Dunes and clerk of Hagar Township, where the mining company wants to open a new pit.

“It doesn’t provide any local jobs. This is a tourist area; lots of Chicago people come here. But they won’t if we have sand trucks running up and down every four minutes.”

Fallon said TechniSand has invested heavily in the Hagar site and has a right to profit from it.

Davis accuses the DEQ of pro-industry bias in issuing permits and lax enforcement of mining regulations. He’s asking state Atty. Gen. Frank Kelley to intervene and said Preserve the Dunes will sue if Kelley declines.

Whitener denies coddling the miners, saying his agency regularly inspects the sites and orders companies to remedy any violations.

“We tried to give a factual and rational answer to their concerns, but their minds were made up,” he said. “They don’t want the mining to continue and are looking for any way to shut it down.”