It's time for Idaho's political muscle to step in behind the state's new wilderness bill that passed the U.S. House of Representatives Monday.
The bill, crafted by Republican Congressman Mike Simpson, would protect 312,000 acres of wilderness in the Boulder and White Cloud mountains. Yet, despite passage in the House, the support of Idaho Sen. Mike Crapo, and the support of the Democrat candidate for governor, Jerry Brady, the bill is otherwise surrounded by silence.
Idaho Republican Sen. Larry Craig, chairman of the Senate Energy Committee's subcommittee on public lands and forest health, hasn't taken a position on the bill that has been tagged with the unwieldy moniker "Central Idaho Economic Development and Recreation Act."
Idaho Republican Congressman Butch Otter, another candidate for governor, was absent for the vote and hasn't taken a position. Also silent are Gov. Jim Risch, Secretary of the Interior and former Gov. Dirk Kempthorne, and the Idaho Legislature.
Congressman Simpson kept his campaign promise to craft a Central Idaho wilderness bill and guide it through Washington, D.C.'s political hoops. He created an unlikely alliance that included wilderness advocates, conservative county commissioners, ranchers and motorized recreation groups—people more likely to be combatants than allies. They helped him shape the bill.
No one is thrilled with it. The Sierra Club hates the bill—but that's a political plus in Idaho.
It's full of tradeoffs.
Custer County wants more private land in its sea of public ground. Motorized recreationists want a motorized corridor with wilderness on both sides. Conservationists' want most of the area protected before motorized recreation, growth and industry chew it up. Ranchers want to keep ranching with little interference.
The bill is uniquely Idaho—independent and aggravating. It's far from pure.
It reflects the daily struggle of ordinary Idahoans who worry about putting food on the table. Yet, it embodies their true desire to protect the alpine heart of the state for future generations.
For all these reasons, Idaho leaders ought to love this bill. So should the Idaho Legislature, which ought to consider a resolution of support in an upcoming special session.
It's time for an end to the silence—unless of course Idaho's leaders are part of the knee-jerk, don't-lock-it-up minority that's against any wilderness, any time, anywhere.
Central Idaho's newest wilderness bill needs the flex of some political muscle if it is not to die in the Senate.
