Defenders Magazine

On the Ground: National Wildlife Refuges at Risk

© Jack Dykinga

Dawn breaks along the U.S.-Mexico border, signaling the end of a jaguar's night of hunting and the start of the big cat's search for shade in the mountains of Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge.

This federally protected, 118,000-acre tract of land in southern Arizona provides a pocket of hope for the endangered jaguar and other imperiled species: masked bobwhite quail, cactus ferruginous pygmy owls and southwestern willow flycatchers. But it's also a place where desperate migrants from Mexico and drug smugglers try to slip into the country—trampling sensitive habitat as they blaze new trails. An estimated 1.2 million migrants cross the southwestern border each year, and leave behind dozens of abandoned vehicles and thousands of tons of litter.

"This refuge is overrun with destruction every day and knee-deep in trash," says refuge manager Mitch Ellis. "You might think litter is just a benign eyesore, but it isn't. Ungulates—pronghorn and deer—on the refuge eat plastic bags and every time a milk jug ring is left behind, there's a chance a gila monster, snake or bird might get caught in it."

Ellis says his staff is constantly being pulled away from the job they were hired to do: protect wildlife, which is the primary objective on each of the 545 national wildlife refuges across the country. Instead, Ellis says, his staff is often fixing vandalized fences and gates, picking up litter and keeping an eye on U.S. Border Patrol agents as they set up helicopter landing pads or horse stables on the refuge. "If we don't watch over them while they do their job, the border patrol agents can cause more damage to the refuge than the immigrants," says Ellis.

That's one reason Defenders of Wildlife is including Buenos Aires in its second annual report on America's 10 most endangered national wildlife refuges. Each refuge faces its own unique mix of threats—from invasive species and water pollution to funding shortfalls and resource extraction. But there is one danger that unites them all: Many people don't even know the refuge system exists. "Unlike the national parks that often get too many visitors, refuges are certainly in no danger of being ‘overloved,'" Ellis says. "That's a problem because people can't fight for something they don't know about, and it always puts us at risk when budget cuts roll around."

President Theodore Roosevelt created the first refuge on Pelican Island in Florida in 1903, at a time when egrets, herons, pelicans and spoonbills—their feathers in hot demand for the fashion trade—were being slaughtered indiscriminately. Today there is at least one refuge in every state, many within an hour's drive of major cities. They encompass every type of habitat, from tropical island to desert, and provide safe havens for more than 170 imperiled species.

"Our National Wildlife Refuge System is both an ecological and economic treasure to this country," says Kyle Rabin, director of Friends of the Bay in Oyster Bay, New York—one of many volunteer groups that support individual wildlife refuges. "Unfortunately our refuges continue to be eroded by haphazard and uncoordinated development, polluted storm water runoff and other threats."

Besides Buenos Aires, those refuges deemed most at risk:

• Arctic, Alaska. Despite opposition to oil and gas development in the refuge by a majority of Americans, the Bush administration and congressional leaders continue to push for drilling in "America's Serengeti."

• Browns Park, Colorado. A winter feeding ground for elk and critical habitat for hundreds of thousands of migrating songbirds, this refuge is losing prime wildlife habitat to cattle grazing.

• Florida Panther, Florida. Black bears, wood storks and Florida panthers all find sanctuary here. But escalating development threatens to overwhelm the area.

• McFaddin, Texas. The state's largest freshwater marsh and essential winter habitat for tens of thousands of snow geese is threatened by energy development.

• Mingo, Missouri. This important link in the Mississippi River flyway fills with vireos and warblers as well as widgeons and wood ducks in spring and fall. But upwind of the refuge, construction may soon begin on a new soot-forming, coal-fired power plant.

• Moapa Valley, Nevada. A proposal to tap into groundwater throughout the state threatens to drain the aquifer that feeds springs within this refuge. It likely will spell the end for the critically endangered Moapa dace fish.

• Oyster Bay, New York. The bay waters attract harbor seals, sea turtles and diamondback terrapins. But outdated water-treatment facilities, development, sewage discharge from motorboats and pollutants from oil tanks are all putting this refuge at risk.

• Pocosin Lakes, North Carolina. One of the 50 most significant bird areas in the world and home to the endangered red wolf, this refuge might soon have a fighter-jet landing field just outside its borders—with a round-the-clock barrage of noise that might force wildlife to abandon the area.

• Sony Bono Salton Sea, California. This inland sea serves as a vital refueling point for birds migrating between hemispheres, but a water-transfer plan could cause the sea to turn too salty for the fish and birds that depend on it.

These threatened havens and the other places that make up our federal refuge system are crucial to the survival of endangered species, experts say. "The refuges are the only federal lands set aside for wildlife by law," notes Ellis. "It's where animals are supposed to come first. We need to ensure that happens."