Looking at a map of large fires in the Sierra Nevada reveals a “green island” amidst the burn scars: Nevada County. We often hear it’s not if, but when a large fire will fill this gap. How we protect the land and our homes depends on who you ask – or does it?
(click the – button to zoom out and see the statewide map)
In late October, the Resilience Project of Western Nevada County launched to answer that question. The goal: move beyond language and get to work.
“We sat down and thought about how can we all be from different areas and come up with solutions,” said District 4 Supervisor Sue Hoek, a member of a multi-generational ranching family. “I think it takes a huge village to make something happen. Because I don’t think there’s anybody in here that doesn’t love where we live.”
District 5 Supervisor Hardy Bullock added that while he and Sue Hoek often disagree, that friction is useful. “We drew a Venn diagram about the things we agreed on and we focused on that,” Bullock said. “When you get in a room of this size with people like us… I find that we have more in common than we do have differences.”
Translation
These two supervisors appear to embody traditional vs technocratic, yet once you strip away buzzwords like stewardship, pasture management, ecosystem services and fuel load modification, the work being done strives for the same outcome: a landscape that can survive where people thrive.
When a rancher rotates cattle through different pastures to prevent overgrazing, they call it “good management” because they want grass to come back next year and the soil to stay fertile. When a conservation group prescribes the exact same action, they might call it “disturbance regimes” to ensure the watershed is or becomes more drought-resistant and native plants are not crowded out by invasive species.
The motivation feels different, one driven by heritage, the other by data, but the result is identical: deep roots, healthy soil, and water that stays in the ground rather than evaporating.
The landscape does not care what words we use. Oak trees don’t distinguish between a “conservation easement” and a “family heritage.” “Resiliency” is just the scientific measurement of successful “stewardship.” And stewardship is just the human labor required to build resiliency.
The 1.8 Billion Dollar Question
However, shared philosophy doesn’t pay for fuel clearing.
Supervisor Bullock stated during the October meeting, “Let’s talk about things that our community character is really dependent on. That’s clean water, clean air, the ability to farm, the ability to ranch, the ability to ski, the ability to mountain bike, the ability to go to the river, the ability to build a community that’s resilient, can defend itself against wildfire, and when it does have a fire, can recover quickly.”
The math is daunting. Nevada County covers roughly 613,000 acres. Federal agencies (Forest Service and BLM) own about 200,000 acres; the State owns a negligible amount (90 acres, the Fairgrounds.)
Restoring the landscape while navigating steep canyons, invasive broom, our love of trees and private property rights is a monumental task. No grant will ever cover it. A back-of-the-envelope calculation, at $3,000 per acre for initial clearing, adds up to a staggering $1.83 billion. That’s roughly $18,390 per resident.
And as we all know, vegetation grows back fast.
The solution lies in personal responsibility and collaborative action. Firewise communities, collaboration between agencies, public/private partnerships, and individual efforts must be bolstered by land use and building regulations that make our homes more fire-resistant and our backyard less flammable.
Every action we take helps: replacing vent screens, joining a neighborhood cleanup, using prescribed fire, taxing ourselves to fund landscape-level projects.
Will it be fast? No. Will it be expensive? Yes. Can we afford not to plan for our future? No.