A Legal Victory for ‘Rails to Trails’

  • Bicyclists enjoy Minnesota's Cannon Valley Trail. (Photo by Patricia Schmid, courtesy of the Rails-to-Trails Conservancy)

Private landowners say their rights are being trampled on by hikers when the state implements “Rails to Trails” programs. The landowners claim the property should be theirs now that the railroad is finished with the right-of-way. One state recently won the court’s approval to keep its trail intact, including pieces that cross through private property. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Katherine Glover reports:

Transcript

Private landowners say their rights are being trampled on by hikers when the state
implements “Rails to Trails” programs. The landowners claim the property should be
theirs now that the railroad is finished with the right-of-way. One state recently won the
court’s approval to keep its trail intact, including pieces that cross through private
property. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Katherine Glover reports:


Mike Sandberg doesn’t want a public trail going through his backyard.


“Every time anybody goes down it the dogs are barking and I didn’t move out in the
country to hear all the stuff going on with everybody’s, you know, it’s kind of a pain.”


Sandberg bought the land he lives on from his brother a couple years ago. One thing he
liked about the property was that it had a dirt trail running through it, and he thought he
could pave it and use it as a driveway.


The trail used to be a railroad bed. The railroad company laid the tracks in the 1890’s,
after getting the rights to go through hundreds of different properties. Usually they only
had an easement to use the property, but every deed was a little different. There was no
standardized legal form, and most of the deeds were written by hand.


Of course, over the next hundred years, people stopped using the train so much. In
Minnesota, the railroad company sold a lot of its land rights to the Department of Natural
Resources in 1991. Similar deals were passed all across the country, and many states, like
Minnesota, used this land to build public trails.


The path that passes through Sandberg’s property is one of these trails, the Paul Bunyan
Trail. It’s popular with bikers, dog-walkers, in-line skaters, and in the winter,
snowmobilers.


Terry McGawhee is Executive Director of the Paul Bunyan Trail
Association, and he’s constantly lobbying the state legislature to expand the trail or pave
parts of it that are still dirt.


“Not every community embraces the trail, but those that have, have seen significant
economic influence on their communities. And the majority of the people along the 100
miles of the trail are eager to see the trail development.”


The state had held off on further work on the trail because of a lawsuit filed by Sandberg’s
brother and several other landowners. Sandberg said the railroad company didn’t own the
trail on his property, so they couldn’t have sold it to the state.


“The abstract states clearly in layman’s terms it was an easement that the railroad had and
when they quit using it for railroad purposes it should go back to the landowner.”


That’s the reasoning Sandberg’s brother and other landowners used when they blockaded
parts of the trail back in 1998. The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources sued
them, and was initially successful. The landowners appealed, however, and the Appeals
Court overturned the decision. The state agency then appealed to the Minnesota Supreme
Court. On July 29th, the Court ruled in favor of the state trail.


Trail advocates across the country watched the case closely. Lawyers in trail land
disputes in every state could bring up this case as an example. For more than twenty
years, lawyers fighting for public trails have relied heavily on another case, also in
Minnesota. Dorian Grilley is the executive director of the Parks and Trails Council of
Minnesota. He says the Minnesota Supreme Court made the decision in 1983.


“In that case, the Minnesota Supreme Court decided that it was legal for that easement to
be transferred to a public agency for use as a trail because in the early 1900’s or late
1800’s, ‘railway purposes’ really meant public transportation, and that a trail qualified as
public transportation.”


In its recent decision, the court upheld the idea that a public trail serves the same kind of
purpose as a railway, moving people from place to place.


Now that the court has ruled in favor of the state, Mike Sandberg will be forced to
abandon plans to build a driveway along the old railroad bed. His brother is not sure
whether he’ll build his retirement home there as he’d planned, since bicyclists and hikers
will have access to the trail cutting across his property. But trail users can look forward to
seeing another section of the trail completed and paved.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Katherine Glover.

Related Links

Low-Impact Trekking With Llamas

  • "Streak" heads to the trail.

For over 4,000 years, llamas have been used to carry loads through rough mountain terrain. Out West, it’s not uncommon to see llamas carrying tents, sleeping bags, and food for hikers. In the Great Lakes region, llamas are still an unusual sight on the trail, but an increasing number of people are starting to go trekking with them. They’re agile, surefooted, and tread lightly on the earth. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Tamar Charney reports:

Transcript

For over 4,000 years llamas have been used to carry loads through rough mountain
terrain. Out West it’s not uncommon to see llamas carrying tents, sleeping bags, and food
for hikers. In the Great Lakes region, llamas are still an unusual sight on the trail, but an
increasing number of people are starting to go trekking with them. They’re agile,
surefooted, and tread lightly on the earth. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Tamar
Charney reports:


(leaf noise) (walking)


“This is pretty, the lake out here.”


Cheryl Topliff is leading her llama named Streak through the woods at Seven Lakes State
Park in Michigan. Streak is mostly black except for his feet, his face, and the front of his
neck


“And he’s got curly locks on the top of his head – he’s cute.”


And he’s a bit unusual; he’s a talker.


(llama noises)


“I’m getting a fully narrated tour.”


Cheryl Topliff originally got Streak because of his long wooly hair. She’s a fiber artist
and weaves with llama fur. But recently she and her husband got interested in hiking
with their llamas.


“For me personally, it is just getting outdoors on a nice fall day and getting some exercise and
walking, plus the comradery of the other llama people.”


Streak sets the pace for a group of hikers and their llamas. They wander through
meadows full of flowers. They find their way through deep wooded groves. And
trudge up and down hills.


He does like to walk and he likes to be out in front of the whole group.


But today’s trek isn’t for fun. Streak is working on getting certified as
a pack llama – that’s a llama that has been tested to make sure it’s trained
to carry loads and behave well in the backcountry. That means they go
where they’re led and don’t spit or kick.


Dave Foy is with the Pack Llama Association. It’s his job to make sure Streak and the
rest of the llamas are properly tested.


“Not every llama is a pack llama and people have a tendency to think so because that’s
what they’ve really been bred for but some of them don’t like it so a pack trial will put
through a regime of obstacles and trials.”


Such as jumping logs, crossing bridges, and walking through muddy streams.


“Now try to enter that water as close to the flag as possible. We want to make sure he
gets his feet wet.”


Cheryl Topliff’s husband, Don, goes first with a llama named Standing Ovation.


“It’s very shallow. Step over.”


But Standing Ovation wants nothing to do with the water. He hesitates, (“come on”)
(squish), slowly walks in (splash), and then suddenly lunges and jumps to the bank
(splash).


“That’s enough.”


It cost him. Standing Ovation loses points for bad behavior.


(splash)


Streak goes next. He crosses the water with out a hitch, and continues on down
the trail.


(amb of hiking)


(woof woof)


“Wow, I’ve never seen a llama up close.”


(woof)


“Hey, hey, quiet, nice guys.”


Streak and the rest of the llamas are an unusual site in the woods, so people out trekking
with llamas often have to stop to answer questions about what they’re doing. Margaret
Van Camp organized today’s pack trials. She says llamas seem to have gotten a bad
reputation.


“People who don’t have llamas don’t have a positive impression of llamas. They always
think they spit and they think you can’t ride them. What are they good for? But then they
see you doing this and they realize you can have a lot of fun with them.”


“Wow! Look at the pretty llamas.”


(woof woof)


Margaret Van Camp says the nice thing about llamas is that they find their own food,
don’t need much water since they are related to camels, and they don’t damage trails like
horses, mules, and bicycles.


“So that’s why llamas are so nice – because they’re so enviro-friendly they make it easy
to carry more with no more impact on the environment than you – probably less than you
with your hiking boots.”


That’s because llama’s have padded feet like a dog, not hooves which is why on federal
land, llamas are allowed on trails that are closed to horses. And that’s one reason llama
trekking is growing in popularity.


“All right, if you can come one at a time. This is a kicker hill. Next llama. He’s rearing
to go. He’s revving his engines.”


(llama noises)


“We’re going mountain climbing. You ready for this big boy? (llama noises) Good.”


By the end of the hike, Streak has negotiated all the obstacles and passed all his tests.


(amb: trailer door)


Cheryl Topliff loads him in the trailer and heads for home with damp feet, a muddy
husband, and a couple llamas ready for their next adventure in the woods.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Tamar Charney.

Hikers Bare It All

Most of us remember going barefoot as a kid. The feel of warm sand, hot
pavement and early morning dew stays with us. But now that we’re older,
our feet seem more sensitive. We worry about stepping on something. Or
at least most people do. A growing number of hikers are trading in
their boots for bare feet. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Karen
Kelly recently caught up with one of these so-called "barefooters" in
New York’s Adirondack mountains:

Summit Stewards Promote Balance

Each year, tens of thousand of tourists flock to New York’s
Adirondack State Park… most of them heading straight for the High
Peaks, a rugged chain of mountains just west of Lake Champlain. More
visitors than ever before are climbing above the timberline and
environmental groups are concerned about rare alpine species that are
being crushed underfoot, damaged by campfires and tent sites. As the
Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Brian Mann reports, a group called
Summit Stewards is working to protect this rarest part of the
Adirondacks
in a way that still welcomes hikers from around the country:

Adirondack Man

As in so many rural areas, the culture of the Adirondack Mountains is
in decline. The days of hunting and trapping have given way to
condominiums and convenience stores. At one time, the Adirondack
pack-basket was a emblem of this culture. But the number of people who
make them has dwindled. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Karen Kelly
visited one of the few residents keeping this tradition alive: