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Home , Appalachian Trail, Chauncey Peak, Farmington Mountain, Hanging Hills, Metacomet, Metacomet Ridge

Outline

I Introduction – The Page 2

II The Value of Natural Landscape Page 5

Our Attraction to Nature Page 6 Habitat Theory Page 9 Measuring Scenic Beauty Page 11

III Preserving Ridgeline Page 15

Landowner Agreement Page 16 Local Conservation Plans Page 16 The Metacomet Compact Page 18 The Ridgeline Protection Act Page 19 Planning and Development Controls Page 21 Conservation Easements Page 23 Buying Land for Open Space Preservation Page 25

IV Conclusions – At the Frontier for Ridgeline Protection Page 26

References Page 28

Appendix A: Conservation Compact Appendix B: Taconic Mountain Compact Appendix C: Ridgeline Protection Act Appendix D: Subdivision Regulations, Simsbury, Connecticut

1 Since its discovery centuries ago, the mostly developed along natural landscape features – rivers, coastlines and valleys. Rocky outcrops and mountain ranges often divided and defined our communities. High ridges also served as inspiration to a region’s people.

The emerging greenway movement has reminded us of the importance of natural and cultural connections. Miles of linear trails are being established along rivers and canals. Abandoned railroads have made ideal linkages between cities and towns.

Although originally conceived as a means to control population sprawl along the eastern seaboard, the extends some 2,050 miles along a mountain chain from

Maine to .

While the Appalachian Trail serves a good example of what a grand vision and dollars from the federal government can accomplish, there are many opportunities to preserve and develop smaller, regional ridgeline trails such . This paper will describe the trail’s unique features, the importance of its natural landscape to a region’s inhabitants and examine some of the tools used to preserve hiking trails.

I. The Metacomet Trail

The Metacomet Trail in Connecticut follows a traprock ridge 51 miles from the

Hanging Hills of Meriden to the border. South of Meriden the ridge continues to East Haven but the trail there is named the Mattabesset Trail. North of

Meriden the ridgeline trail continues on to Northampton, Massachusetts, where it is known as the Metacomet/Monadnock Trail and ends at in Southern

New Hampshire.

2 In Connecticut the Metacomet Trail was developed and is managed by the

Connecticut Forest and Park Association, the state’s oldest conservation group, founded in 1895. The Association maintains this trail with a cadre of volunteers as part of its 700- mile blue-blazed hiking trail system.

Like most of the blue-blaze trails, the Metacomet traverses a wide assortment of landscapes. Private land ownership and roads do not allow for a scenic hiking path in all places. Sometimes the trail crosses busy roads, or follows the streets of subdivision where the distinctive blue trail markings are painted on telephone poles.

Yet, the trail has been designed to follow the Metacomet Ridge as much as possible, with spectacular views from its highest peaks. Many miles of trail are on state park property and public water supply land. Good views are possible at elevations of 500 feet and above. Its highest peak is in Meriden at 1,024 feet. An even higher, 360-degree view is possible at 1,040 elevation from the Hueblein Tower in Simsbury (CT Walk

Book, 1997, p.8-59).

Although the , or traprock, foundation of the Metacomet Ridge is the most common in the world, the ridgeline is very significant to the region. It defines the landscape horizon of the Valley. The Metacomet Ridge rises parallel to the valley, with a distinctly reddish orange hue. The western side is steep, with exposed columnar rock layers and little vegetation. The eastern side of the ridge always tilts downward and is gently sloping and forested.

Geologists who have studied the Connecticut landscape for over a century believe they know the origins of the traprock ridges. They explain the earth’s crust is made up of huge plates of bedrock floating on a layer of molten magna. The plates continually move

3 and occasionally crash into each other forming mountains. Just as the plates bump into each other, they can move away as well. The central Connecticut River Valley was formed as part of the split when the North American and African plates pulled apart some

200 million years ago (Lee, 1985, p.12-13).

Since then the land has been constantly changing from , deposition of sediments and shifting climate, ranging from equatorial temperatures to the glaciating conditions of the Ice Age. The traprock ridges formed when hot magma from the earth’s interior erupted, flowed and cooled into rock when it reached the earth’s surface. Its distinct orange color on its surface is a form of rust that occurs from exposure to air (Bell,

1985, p.24).

Although traprock is very hard and dense, it easily splinters. Long, columnar joints formed when the basalt shrank as it cooled. The joints are perpendicular to the ground and can be several yards wide. Frost gets into the joints and causes the exposed rock to break off, making a step-like pile of rocks, or talus, below. The name “traprock” came from the Swedish word for step, “trappa” (Lee, 1985, p.18).

If the cracks and color are a trademark of Connecticut’s traprock ridges, its vegetation is harder to characterize. The ridge habitat can be cool, moist and protected as well as hot, dry and exposed. The falcate orange-tip butterfly (Anthocharis midea), common to the southeastern United States has only been spotted in Connecticut on traprock ridges. In contrast, species only found in the northern woods of and

New Hampshire, such as American yew (Taxus candensis), thrive in the cool microclimate of the bottom talus. One side of the ridge may support ferns and other

4 moisture loving plants while the other side is desert-like, providing a home for patches of prickly pear cactus (Opuntia humifosa) (Lee, 1985, p.20-1,24).

While the Metacomet Trail has special significance to Connecticut – culturally, ecologically, and geologically – the importance of a ridgeline trail to the region and measures taken to preserve it can be applied elsewhere.

II. The Value of Natural Landscape

The original settlers that came to America could not have imagined the vastness and richness of resources of the new land. Survival was their utmost concern. Cultivating the land, harnessing the rivers and later on building factories and industries enabled

America to grow and prosper.

By the 1800’s, as cities bulged with throngs of immigrants who came for a better life, a longing for the country became a common theme in art and literature. Writers like

Henry David Thoreau and extolled the virtues of nature. Hudson

River School of artists Frederick Church and painted romantic scenes of waterfalls, mountains and natural vistas. At mid-century led a movement to build parks in many American cities. As the population exploded and moved westward, a desire to preserve the country’s diminishing sparked the formation of the in 1872, with Yellowstone National Park as its first acquisition.

So as a nation, Americans both exploited and revered nature.

5 Our Attraction to Nature

In recent history there has been much research on how we prefer nature to a built environment. Environmental psychologists Rachel Kaplan found that people who were shown photos of intentionally ordinary natural scenes and scenes with mostly man-made features overwhelmingly chose nature scenes to urban views. (R. Kaplan, 1975, p.126).

Even within the range of urban scenes, the most highly rated photos had the presence of small trees.

The positive effect of nature has been illustrated in numerous studies. In the book,

With People in Mind, the authors cite studies that conclude people returning from wilderness trips are more capable than others at a task that requires concentration.

Hospital patients who had a window view had higher recovery rates. Office workers with a view of nature have higher job satisfaction, were less frustrated and had better health.

Recovering cancer patients who were involved in nature activities three times a week made greater gains than a comparison group College students with views of natural settings from their dorm window did better on tasks demanding attention to detail

(Kaplan et al, 1999, p.99). While these studies measure the positive affect of nature on people’s lives, they provide little explanation as to why that may be true or how we can assess the differences in quality from one natural scene to another.

Our knowledge of whether humans shared common perceptions of the environment and, if they existed, could these perceptions be identified and measured became the focus of study by psychologists, landscape architects and planners. Ervin H.

Zube, Robert O. Brush and Julius Gy. Fabos edited a publication in 1975 with 20 separate chapters, Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions and Resources. Multiple authors

6 offered theories and perspectives in a volume that could be considered a classic, as its depth has not been matched in 25 years.

There has been evidence presented by neurological studies that our brain has neural patterns programmed within its cell structure that produce the same response to stimuli, regardless of nationality or culture. Human response to emotions and colors produce characteristic shapes when brain activity is measured (Greenbie,1975, p.69).

While this may suggest that quality is a perceptual state that evokes common human response, Barrie Greenbie also illustrated how people can have diverse responses to the same environment.

Greenbie participated in an experiment in which five different groups were asked to draw boundaries of perceived neighborhoods in Springfield, Massachusetts. The groups consisted of people unfamiliar with the city, taxicab drivers, and public health nurses, residents and city planners. Although there was consistency among the groups in identifying particular types of landscape features, such as highways and railroads, the particular features singled out for attention by the groups varied. How an individual related to or used the environment had an impact on how it was perceived.

Noted ecologist Aldo Leopold took issue with how we perceive the land mostly in human economic terms. He developed the concept of a land-use ethic that took into account what was “esthetically right” (Leopold, 1949, p.224). Leopold believed our view of the environment was too centered on humans, or anthropocentric. More current environmental ethicists argue that all forms of life have a good of their own regardless of the value placed on them by humans (Beatley, 1994, p.27).

7 The intrinsic value of nature is a concept that has been discovered in surprising places. Beginning in the 1970’s the utility company that powered City,

Consolidated Edison, attempted to build a power plant on top of Storm King, a ridge-top above the Valley. Opposition began among organized hikers who wanted to keep industrial intrusion out of this rugged area. The fight to preserve the land dragged on for many years. High-powered public relations, people of influence, a parade of experts with dubious scientific findings and protracted legal maneuverings marked the

Storm King controversy. Astonishingly, in the middle of the fray were poor, inner-city

New York city residents who wanted to stop the project, even though their utility bills would rise, to preserve a place they would never visit. Just knowing a site of natural beauty like Storm King exists had more value than cheaper electricity (Tucker, 1977, p.76).

It has been suggested that our attraction to scenic landscapes is due to an aesthetic experience we have with the landscape. In an article, The Nature and Ecology of

Aesthetic Experiences in the Landscape, Richard Chenoweth and Paul Gobster explain:

“aesthetic experiences have a completeness and coherence, a unity that makes them stand out from the experiences and flow of everyday life. The experience is said to be intrinsically gratifying in that the percipient derives a satisfying pleasure from merely beholding the object (the landscape)…. (p.2)

So, whether a real experience or imagined, as in the Storm King example, humans are strongly attracted to the natural landscape.

8

Habitat Theory

Jay Appleton contends that humans have a common response to the environment based on a survival instinct. He claims that our response to our surroundings is deeply rooted in our need to identify physical conditions that would allow us to live. Known as habitat theory, Appleton claims aesthetic satisfaction “arises from a spontaneous reaction to …environment as habitat, that is to say as a place which affords the opportunity for achieving our simple biological needs,” (Appleton, 1975, p.69).

Even though our civilization has advanced to where we are no longer dependent on intimately knowing our environment for survival, humans still innately respond to the stimuli crucial for physical survival. Appleton theorizes we have a “perception of a biologically favorable environment” and will avoid dangerous landscapes. (Appleton,

1975, p.70).

Determination of what is a favorable landscape goes back to our history as hunters. To be successful a hunter needed to see without being seen and a place to hide.

Landscape architects would refer to these components as prospects and refuges. A prospect is a place that offers us a clear place to view, or a vista.

However, prospects and refuges, have no meaning without a sense of hazard.

Without danger there would be no biological need for good views and hiding places.

Geologist David Leveson contends that hazards need not be a physical threat, such as cliffs, streams, snakes or crevices. Instead it may “involve a feeling on the part of the observer that he or she is exposed to the power of nature, a sense of the infinite,

9 something far larger, older than oneself, or indeed the human race” (Leveson, 1988, p.86).

A further implication of Appleton’s theory is that people need to understand their environment to protect themselves from harm. The ability to orient oneself is closely linked to the concepts of refuge and prospect. Humans avoid environments where they cannot see their way out, where they can be hunted and trapped.

Habitat theory provides a useful explanation of how people perceive landscapes and why some settings are more desirable than others. Ridgeline hiking trails offer a striking vista of the valley below, the thrill of a hazard at the cliff’s edge as well as vegetation to be used as a retreat from danger. These trails also suggest security.

Following a generally straight path along a ridgeline, these trails typically offer good visibility to see and be seen by others because they are relatively straight. Many of these trails, like the Metacomet Trail, are located near population areas and are heavily used as local trails. Besides the feeling there is safety where others are nearby, they also sit above valleys where human activity can be viewed, reducing fear that might occur if located in a more isolated area.

Psychologists Rachel and Stephen Kaplan have studied how people relate to landscapes and have come to remarkably similar conclusions as Appleton. They have developed a preference matrix that evaluates outdoor space on how well it meets our need for understanding and exploration. (Kaplan et al, 1999, p.13). Coherent natural scenes are preferred. Large expanses of space that appear the same or dense vegetation with poor views are consistently rated poorly. In both instances it is hard to orient oneself – either

10 because the space is too large to have a focus or too hard to see in any direction. Both situations lead to discomfort.

A more inviting natural scene accordingly to the Kaplans is one in which there is some complexity and mystery. They claim landscape that invites exploration is more satisfying. A straight path is less enticing than a walk that bends. Yet, the curving path must be in an overall environment that feels safe.

Preference for complexity or variety in the landscape seems to be supported in studies. For example, one study gave hikers cameras to record their outdoor experience.

When reviewing the pictures they took, researches found more pictures of complex scenes indicating more appeal to the hikers (Arthur et al., 1977, p.112).

As interesting as habitat theory might be to explain human attraction to particular natural landscapes, it doesn’t fully account for what makes a landscape appealing. Vistas, refuges and hazards are only elements of a scene. What are the factors that make the whole landscape attractive? And, can such a landscape be characterized as one with

“scenic beauty?”

Measuring Scenic Beauty

While beauty is a concept that has been studied through the ages, people who assess landscapes rarely use it. The adage “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” suggests that beauty is open to subjective interpretation. For those seeking to objectify the value of a landscape, terms like “aesthetic value” or “visual quality” are preferred.

British lecturer Ian C. Laurie developed a list of general qualities to assess landscapes. He believed that artists and designers were more capable than the public in

11 perceiving the quality of beauty in landscapes. Laurie said that beauty is based on “an intuitive response to complex relationships in phenomena” (Laurie, 1975, p.111). Among twenty elements Laurie used to define the quality landscape were:

Richness of natural features Absence of incongruities and conflicts of materials, scale and color Lack of visually disturbing detractors Absorption of buildings into the landscape Regularity of field and woodland patterns Spatial interest and spatial diversity The condition and character of buildings, bridges, fences, walls, gates…

Other studies do not agree with Laurie’s conclusion that it takes trained professionals to recognize pleasing aesthetic qualities in the landscape. (Zube, Pitt and

Anderson, 1975, p.156). For example, observers trained in forestry and a group of landowners were asked to rate the attractiveness of forest stands in Massachusetts. The study concluded that there was little difference in the ratings between the two groups.

Each preferred large, enclosed spaces especially those created by thinning. Unbounded openings and dense overstocked stands were less desirable. The highest ranked settings were old hemlock groves, hayfields, thinned white pines, red pine stands, pastures and ferns (Brush, 1979). These preferences affirm some of the qualities Laurie used to define good aesthetics such as “spatial diversity, regularity of field and woodland patterns.”

Brush’s findings also describe much of the views from a ridgeline trail such as the

Metacomet Trail. Hikers on the trail will encounter hemlocks and ferns while views from the overlooks will present farm and fields below.

Not surprisingly, much research has been done to identify landscape characteristics that are highly related to scenic quality. Ervin Zube and others developed

6 categories with 23 dimensions to describe the landscape (Zube, Pitt and Anderson,

12 1975, p.165). Landform, land use, edges, contrast, water and views were the major groupings. Height, grain, spacing, evenness and naturalism were dimensions used evaluate contrast. Topographic texture and ruggedness were elements of landform description. These and the other dimensions were measured quantitatively by gauging the response to pictures and scenery by people in the lower Connecticut River Valley.

The results of the study were predictable. People prefer landscapes with water, compatible land use, natural features, views and elevation changes.

A simpler approach to evaluating landscape features had been proposed a few years earlier by Luna B. Leopold (Hamill, 1975, p.16). He devised a system of using uniqueness ratios for measuring landscape value. Leopold’s method was based on the idea that less common landscapes have more significance to society. A weakness in this approach was that sites selected are evaluated in relation to each other so the size and nature of the sample selected limit the results. Also, uniqueness is not necessarily good.

The most unique site might be the “least desirable from the aesthetic point of view”

(Hamill, 1975, p.21).

Much of the work in developing methods of scenic assessment during the 1960’s and 1970’s was stimulated by changing land use and government policy. The visual impact of housing and retail development in small towns and suburbs was startling. The federal government added the word “esthetics” to its management program of the national forests in the Environmental Policy Act of 1962. The foundation of knowledge for evaluating scenic resources has not been significantly enhanced since then, as journal articles on this topic are relatively small.

13 A scan of the literature from that earlier period shows that the most techniques for assessing scenic resources were developed through descriptive inventories, both qualitative and quantitative (Arthur et al., 1977, p.110). Models for evaluating landscape were also designed. However, they were more complex than a simple evaluation of the scenic elements of a landscape. For example, models typically included both the attributes of nature such as mountains and rivers, as well as our human imprint on the landscape through farms, villages and cities (Riotte, Fabos and Zube, 1975, p.255).

The development of visual-cultural resources as an integral part of landscape assessment has been especially useful for planning. A model developed by Julius Gy.

Fabos of the visual-cultural resources of the Southeastern New Region had three components: “classification and identification of the natural components of landscapes; evaluation or assessment of the relative quality of each of the identified landscape types and areas; proposals or development of recommendations for landscape planning and management related to landscape use and quality (Riotte, Fabos and Zube, 1975, p.258).

This model drew upon various studies and knowledge about landscape quality.

Components such as elevation, diversity, and distribution of edges in a landscape were key variables for evaluation. Historical, cultural and ecological qualities were considered as well. The ability to use a location, either visually or physically, was another indicator to assess value. These components were then compiled into a unique-site index to be used by towns for planning, protection, development or rehabilitation of their resources.

The value of this kind of landscape assessment model for proponents of ridgeline hiking trails is that it provides a rationale for protecting ridgelines for aesthetic, cultural and biological reasons. The elevation of the landform, with its special plant and species

14 habitat; its edge quality and visual accessibility are factors that make a ridgeline a significant site within a community.

III Preserving Ridgeline Hiking Trails

By the close of the twentieth century much progress had been made in this country in increasing awareness and protection of our environment. Americans began to realize that, as land was limited, it was not a good idea to foul it up. There was a growing understanding of the interconnections of our natural systems. We began to see how land use changes have impacts, both near and far.

Yet, even though we realized the need for controls and responded by enacting zoning restrictions and easements, attempts to regulate land use are often confronted by the challenge of property rights. This country has had several hundred years of laws and traditions upholding a person’s right to use their land as they desire as long as the use doesn’t harm others. In some cases we can readily agree on what constitutes harm, like creating excess noise or waste. In other instances it’s not so easy.

Does a community have the right to stop the building of homes or the erecting of communication towers on top of ridgelines? Can the public successfully object on the basis that building on prominent ridges interferes with the public right to a scenic view?

Further, if floodplains and streams are afforded special protection by law, can ridgelines also be considered special environmental zones in which land use is limited?

In Connecticut there has been a movement to limit development on ridgelines at the state level and within communities. Some local efforts at control have been successful while a state ridgeline protection enabling law and voluntary preservation compact are

15 unproven as yet. The remainder of this paper will look at various tools to preserve land on Connecticut’s Metacomet Trail. The techniques are arranged in a continuum, beginning with approaches that provide the least protection of trails and ending with the means to keep hiking trails open forever.

Landowner Agreement

About 75% of the hiking trails in Connecticut’s Blue Blaze Trail system are on private land by permission. Most agreements to allow hikers cross the land were made by handshake, some at least a half century ago. Trails on privately owned lands are always in peril when land is transferred to new owners or divided in subdivisions. This is especially true in Connecticut where many of the larger landowners are elderly. The only sections of the Metacomet Trail that are relatively secure are those segments that pass through public water supply areas and state parks and forests.

Landowner agreements provide no long-term protection to hiking trails.

Local Conservation Plans

Most communities in Connecticut have a written plan of conservation and development that is often revised every 5 years. The plan identifies how land is currently used and how the community would like it used in the future. Industrial, commercial and residential zones are identified. Parks, open space, greenways and other natural resources are designated as well.

Conservation land use planner Randall Arendt recommends a Map of Potential

Conservation Lands as a technique for preserving key areas within a community. Unlike

16 an Official Map, which requires a municipality to purchase land designated as open space within 12 months if the owner wishes to develop it, this approach helps officials see how development proposals will affect critical natural resources. It encourages flexible zoning to maintain interconnected networks of open space (Arendt, 1999, p.24).

While some of the hiking trails within towns are unofficially delineated on maps, most are not recorded. When proposals for development are brought forward, town planners are often not aware of a trail that crosses the land. If each trail was mapped and parcel ownership along the route known before the surveying and engineering expenses of laying out the subdivision are incurred, then it is more possible a deal could be reached with the developer to keep the trail within the new development. Developers are more likely to be cooperative about preserving a community asset when they are looking for approvals from town officials than after the building lots are drawn and the permits have been granted. This too is a voluntary agreement, with no legal weight. However, it offers a no cost opportunity for continuing trail segments that would have been closed.

Still, a town’s knowledge of the route of local hiking trails will not guarantee trails will be saved. Presently a portion of the Metacomet Trail is facing permanent closure in Farmington, Connecticut, breaking the continuity of a trail that runs from

Connecticut to New Hampshire.

Farmington is a community with an excellent record of preserving open space and is aware of the Metacomet Trail’s 5.8-mile route through town. The problem developed when a new subdivision was built on top of . Once a rugged cliffside trail, a tiny portion now meanders through a residential yard, some 20 feet from the home’s deck. The new owner has asked that the trail be removed from his property

17 and the other abutting property owner, a private museum, has not granted permission to move the trail onto its land. If the trail can’t be moved a few dozen feet, then the only way to keep the continuity of this multi-state trail is to move it off the ridgeline along a busy town road and under Interstate 84.

The Metacomet Compact

Recognizing the need to preserve the Metacomet Ridge, 17 of 19 Conservation

Commissions in central Connecticut signed a pact pledging to protect the mountain ridge in their communities in April 1998. This was the first regional statement for ridge preservation. While the compact offered no plan or penalties to those who disrupt the ridge, it represented an opportunity for communities to affirm a commitment to protect the natural resources of the Metacomet Ridge and the spirit of inter-town cooperation

(See appendix A).

The leader of the effort, Norm Zimmer of Meriden, believes the compact has already shown it has more than ceremonial value. Zimmer, an avid hiker, cited how the communities of Meriden, Middlefield and Durham have passed ridgeline protection measures since the signing of the compact. Besides passing zoning regulations limiting building on ridgetops, the city of Meriden took even more drastic action against a landowner who shut down the Metacomet Trail on his property near .

Eminent domain was used by the city to claim a 150-foot by 1000-foot strip of land so the trail could be re-opened.

A few years earlier, in 1993, a ridgeline protection compact was signed by the states of New York and Massachusetts to preserve the that borders

18 the two states (See appendix B). Similar to the Metacomet Compact, this document has helped land preservation efforts in . Leslie Reed Evans, director of the Williamstown Rural Lands Foundation, a privately funded land trust, said the compact has been a good thing and has “dragged it out a lot.” She said it’s particularly useful to have a written document affirming ridgeline protection when public officials change and are being briefed on existing policy.

The value of a preservation compact is in its power of persuasion, not of law. This kind of agreement expresses community values that can later be translated into norms or regulations. The sentiments in a compact can be the foundation from which a community builds a preservation program.

The Ridgeline Protection Act

In 1995 Connecticut’s legislature passed a law to protect traprock ridges in the state, that was later amended in 1998 (See appendix C). The intent of the law was to prevent alteration of the ridgeline of some 50 named peaks, about half of them comprising the Metacomet Ridge. The law enables communities to establish limits on new building construction and expansion by defining a setback area. Restrictions may be applied to quarrying and clear-cutting, within the setback area as well.

State Geologist Ralph Lewis has said the law is too difficult to interpret because the state’s geological mapping is not adequately detailed. According to the law, alteration of the ridgeline is prohibited on the steep side of the traprock ridge, 50 horizontal feet perpendicular to the slope’s highest point. On the wooded, more gently sloped eastern side of the ridge, the setback is 150 feet. The map used to measure distance is Stone’s

19 Surficial Materials Map of Connecticut. However, this map is drawn to a scale where close measurement is impossible. Since the law was passed, Lewis has received only a few inquiries about its application. While he believes the intent of the law is good, a more effective way to deal with ridgeline preservation is through land-use controls, not geology.

Unlike Connecticut, Vermont took a more aggressive position in 1970 to protect its high elevations from development. It passed a law, Chapter 250, which required all construction above 2,500 feet to undergo a rigorous permitting process as well as develop a land use plan. Communities did not have the option of choosing whether they wanted to use the law and each development proposal was subjected to close scrutiny for environmental impact.

A decade later Massachusetts adopted a Scenic Mountain Act that enabled the towns to restrict building on high elevations. The law allows a town to prohibit structures above 1300 feet and also be subject to restrictions at 1100 feet and higher. Williamstown is one of the few towns in Massachusetts with an elevation over 1100 feet that has taken advantage of the law.

If Connecticut decided to regulate development of its ridgelines, then the elevation to restrict development would need to be set at a much lower point than

Vermont. Connecticut’s terrain is much closer to sea level. In fact, the highest point on the Metacomet Ridge is under just over 1,000 feet. Yet, even at that level the ridgeline is the most striking landmark of the Connecticut River Valley.

While ridgeline protection is generally viewed as a move to stop physical development, like upscale homes and communication towers, people can also leave a

20 damaging footprint on the land. Overuse from visitors can undermine the quality and biodiversity of natural resources. Presently the Massachusetts Department of

Environmental Management is drafting a policy to protect the summits and ridges within the boundaries of properties it owns and manages. The department will attempt to balance recreational use and public access needs with the preservation of the fragile ecosystems of the ridge tops. The Metacomet-Monadnock Trail is one of 5 long distance hiking trail that has been identified as needing resource protection.

Planning and Development Controls

In the early 1980’s Simsbury, Connecticut was concerned about losing the natural appearance of the Metacomet Ridge, which defined the eastern boarder of town, if homes were built along its crest as had happened in neighboring Avon. The 1984 Plan of

Development identified the town’s highest elevation areas as zones to be protected. This mandate was then enforced through new subdivision regulations that placed conservation easements and building restrictions on all lots developed above a 250-foot elevation. (See appendix D). Simsbury’s regulations required aerial photography with the lot layout, the location of the highest point on the roofline and all significant vegetation. The town could determine the size and variety of vegetation for each site, restrict the building’s height, color of the structure and roof, as well as the ratio and location of glass (Simsbury, 1995, p.15-17).

The legal foundation for a community’s right to protect its scenic landscape through using its police power was laid in the 1954 Supreme Court decision in Berman v.

Parker. In this landmark case the court said,

21

“The concept of the public welfare is broad and inclusive. The values it represents are spiritual as well as physical, aesthetic as well as monetary. It is within the power of the legislature to determine that the community should be beautiful as well as healthy, spacious as well as clean, well balanced as well as carefully patrolled” (Bobrowski, 1995, p.697).

Before Berman v Parker land use controls had to be linked to the public’s health and safety, critical natural resource protection or the protection of property values or the tourism economy. Aesthetic considerations were secondary. Since the 1954 ruling aesthetic goals are now acceptable as the primary rationale in the application of zoning regulations.

Seen from an historical perspective Mark Bobrowski suggests that protection of visual landscape is “one of the last frontiers in local land regulation of the environment”

(Bobrowski, 1995, p.698). Starting in the 1960’s, the government’s first environmental laws protected wetlands. This was followed by the protection of floodplains and later on aquifers, watersheds, dunes and barrier beaches. Concerns about the loss of agricultural lands and its related visual impact on communities, led to farmland preservation programs. Currently, with tourism as a leading industry in the United States, the value of preserving scenic landscapes have prompted communities to regulate land use for economic reasons.

Planning and development controls can be a very effective way to preserve open areas like ridgelines in a community. Zoning and building laws can regulate community aesthetics. In addition, a community can tailor land use controls to meet its special needs.

Another big advantage is they do not cost money as do land purchases or easements.

However, these controls are not permanent. Local politicians can change them at any

22 time. And, that’s exactly what happened along a scenic stretch of the 470-mile Blue

Ridge Parkway, a few miles south of Roanoke, (Fordney, 1994, p.26).

Farmland bordering the parkway was rezoned to residential use, allowing an influential developer to build up to six houses an acre. This action spurred formation the of a citizen coalition to preserve the . However, their task is daunting as only 2 of 29 counties along the parkway had any form of zoning when the development was proposed (Fordney, 1994, p.28).

Conservation Easements

A conservation easement is a widely used technique that permanently restricts the development of land. An easement can be obtained either by purchase or donation. A property owner can sell the value of what the land would be worth if developed and then place a restriction on the deed prohibiting development. The owner can also agree to donate the value of the land through a conservation easement to a public entity or non- profit land trust. In either case the owner retains title to the property, can remain on the property, sell it or pass it on to heirs.

Besides the desire to keep land from being developed in perpetuity, a major reason people decide to place conservation easements on their property is for tax benefits.

Section 170(h)(4)(A) of the Internal Revenue Code allows for tax deductions for donations in any of five areas: public recreation and/or education, significant natural habitat, scenic enjoyment, farm and forest land and historic preservation (Diehl, 1988, p.13-21). Ridgeline trails could potentially qualify in nearly all these categories.

23 Tax benefits for conservation easements are possible in four areas: federal and state income taxes, capital gains tax, property tax and estate taxes. However, the amount of the tax savings depends on the appraised value of the land covered by the easement. If the parcel has little market value, then the savings will be minimal. Sometimes the placing of an easement on property reduces the value of other surrounding land.

Appraisers describe this occurrence as casting a shadow of implicit land use (Vicary,

1994, p.138). For example, the presence of an easement might discourage permissible, yet socially undesirable land use activities, such as mining or clear-cut forestry, on neighboring land, thus reducing other land values.

Conservation easements are a good way to protect land without having to buy or manage it. And, unlike land use regulations that can be modified, conservation easements are a permanent land control vehicle.

Still, the experts warn that the donation of an easement carries perpetual costs to the entity that accepts the gift for monitoring and legal enforcement if court action is needed (Wright, 1994, p.491). Land trust professionals suggest asking the individual donating the easement to set aside funds for monitoring when the land is given. They reason that these individuals probably are good candidates for contributing to such as fund as a means to ensure that their wishes will be carried out.

Keeping track of easements over time can be difficult. The director of the

Connecticut Forest and Park Association, John Hibbard, told a story of a property owner who had the Blue Blaze trail moved off his land. When the land was to be sold it was discovered there had been an easement on the property all along, making the trail relocation unnecessary.

24 Buying Land for Open Space Preservation

The ultimate protection for preserving land is to buy it.

However, buying land is very expensive. Even the most aggressive land purchase programs underway in many states can not adequately fund acquisition of large amounts of open space.

In 1998 Connecticut Governor John Rowland pledged support for a bipartisan effort to buy land for open space preservation. His goal was to have 21% of the state’s land preserved within 25 years. Though accurate figures on how much is already preserved are unavailable, environmentalists say less than 10% of Connecticut’s land is protected.

Among the land bought as part of the state’s program, have been parcels with traprock ridge trails in 5 communities – Southington, Meriden, Durham, Wallingford and

East Granby. Ironically two of those towns, Southington and East Granby, were the only two towns that refused to sign the Metacomet Compact, a voluntary commitment to preserve the Metacomet Ridge.

In the 1999-2000 fiscal year $32 million has been earmarked for land purchases either by the state or by municipalities and land trusts with state support. Recently, the state legislature set aside another $10 million in state surplus funds to buy land.

Despite this level of financial support and the likelihood government will spend many millions more on land acquisition in the future, purchase of land for preservation won’t increase the percentage of protected land by more than a few points.

Public land trusts funded by private donations have also been very active in buying up land for open space conservation in Connecticut. A Land Trust Alliance survey

25 found that had the most acreage held by land trusts. This region also had

372 individual trusts, or 42% of the country’s total (Wright, 1994, p.384).

IV Conclusion: At the Frontier for Ridgeline Protection

There has been much written about the value of the natural landscape to our sense of well being. Numerous studies have indicated the restorative power of nature. Jay

Appleton has given us a plausible explanation of how our attraction to particular landscape features, prospects and refuges, are instinctive reactions to a biological need for survival. Landscape architects, geographers, psychologists and planners have greatly contributed to our knowledge of what we consider desirable landscapes. Numerous assessment tools and models have been developed to classify and evaluate landscapes so we can propose how best to use them.

As we have learned how to identify and measure unique sites, it is possible to preserve what is special in our landscape. Environmental laws, zoning restrictions and public sentiment make significant land preservation achievable. There are numerous strategies to follow to preserve land, offering varying levels of permanency. A range of techniques has been discussed here.

If ridgeline preservation truly is the last frontier of environmental protection, then the message of its value to the region must be clearly communicated and put on our collective radar screen. The Metacomet Compact is a terrific vehicle for this. Its power is not in law but rather in the vision it offers. We have seen by the examples of accomplishment in communities along the Metacomet Trail that ridgeline trails can be protected.

26 Unlike abandoned railroad beds that are singularly owned by a company or green strips along the banks of a river that must be left open by environmental law, mountain ridges are a more difficult setting for a public access greenway. Much of the land is privately owned, more physically difficult to traverse, passing through many political jurisdictions. In Connecticut it’s sometimes difficult to see at ground level how the rising landform of the Metacomet ridge is connected, as there are breaks in the topography.

Major roads and highways bisect it as well.

Yet the Metacomet Trail, mostly known as a local hiking trail, has cultural and physical links well beyond the towns it passes through. Most people who hike it have no idea it’s a tri-state regional trail. Local officials, who make land-use decisions that have the most impact on the future direction of the trail, do not always know how their actions affect the Metacomet Trail. Effective preservation of lengthy ridgeline trails must therefore be approached at the community level with support from those who advocate for a larger vision.

27 References

Appleton, Jay. 1975. “The Experience of Landscape.” John Wiley & Sons. New York.

Arendt, Randall. 1999. “Growing Greener: Putting Conservation into Local Plans and Ordinances.” Island Press. Washington, D.C.

Arthur, Louise M., Terry C. Daniel and Ron S. Boster.1977. “Scenic Assessment: An Overview.” Landscape Planning. V4:109-129.

Bell, Michael. 1985. “The Face of Connecticut: People, Geology, and the Land.” Bulletin 110. Connecticut Geological and Natural History Survey. Hartford, Connecticut.

Beatley, Timothy. 1994. “Ethical Land Use: Principles of Planning and Policy.” The Johns Hopkins University Press. Baltimore, .

Bobrowski, Mark. 1995. “Scenic Landscape Protection Under the Police Power.” College Environmental Affairs Law Review. 22(4): 697-746.

Brush, Robert O. 1979. The attractiveness of woodlands: Perceptions of forest landowners in Massachusetts. Forest Science. 25(3):495-506.

Connecticut Forest and Park Association. 1997. Connecticut Walk Book. 18th edition. Connecticut Forest and Park Association, Meriden, CT.

Connecticut State Legislature. “Public Act No. 98-105: An Act Concerning A Model River Protection Ordinance and Protection of Ridgelines.” 22 May, 1998.

Conservation Commission (17 Connecticut Communities). “Metacomet Ridge Conservation Compact.” 22 April, 1998.

Diehl, Janet and Thomas Barrett. 1988. Conservation Easement Handbook. Trust for Public Land and Land Trust Exchange. Alexandria, Virginia.

Evans, Leslie Reed, Executive Director, Williamstown Rural Land Foundation. Interview with author. April, 2000.

Fordney, Chris. 1994. “Blue Ridge Blues: Preserving Scenic Views Along Blue Ridge Parkway.” National Parks. v68(3)-10: 26-31.

Greenbie, Barrie B. 1975. “Problems of Scale and Context in Assessing a Generalized Landscape for Particular Persons.” in “Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions, and Resources.” Dowden, Hutchinson & Ross, Inc. Stroudsburg, . p. 65-91.

28 Hamill, Louis. 1975. “Analysis of Leopold’s Quantitative Comparisons of Landscape Esthetics.” Journal of Leisure Research. V7(1):16-28.

Hibbard, John E., Executive Director of Connecticut Forest and Park Association. Interview by author. 29 March 2000.

Kaplan, Rachel. 1975. “Some Methods and Strategies in the Prediction of Preference.” in “Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions, and Resources.” Dowden, Hutchinson & Ross, Inc., Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. p. 118-29.

Kaplan, Rachel, Stephen Kaplan and Robert L. Ryan. 1999. “With People in Mind.” Island Press.Washington, D.C.

Lee, Cara. 1985. “West Rock to the Barndoor Hills: The Traprock Ridges of Connecticut.” State Geological and Natural History Survey of Connecticut and Department of Environmental Protection. Vegetation of Natural Areas No. 4.

Leopold, Aldo. 1949. “A Sand County Almanac.” Oxford University Press. New York.

Leveson, David. 1988. “Geologic Clarity: A Geologist’s Perspective on Landscape Aesthetics.” Landscape Journal. Fall: 85-93.

New York, State of and Commonwealth of Massachusetts. “Compact () between the State of New York and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.” 25 May 1993.

Riotte, R. Jeffrey, Julius Gy. Fabos and Ervin H. Zube. 1975. “Model for Evaluation of the Visual-Cultural Resources of the Southeastern New England Region.” in “Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions and Resources.” Dowden, Hutchinson & Ross, Inc. Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. p.254-73.

Simsbury, Connecticut. 1991. “Subdivision Regulations.” p. 15-17.

Tucker, William. 1977. “Environmentalism and the Leisure Class.” Harper’s Magazine. V255(1530):49-56,73-80.

Vicary, Bret P. 1994. “Trends In Appraising Conservation Easements.” Appraisal Journal. Jan v62(1):138-43.

Wright, John B. 1993.“Conservation Easements: An Analysis of Donated Development Rights.” Journal of the American Planning Association. Autumn v59(4): 487-84.

______. 1994. “Designing and Applying Conservation Easements.” Journal of the American Planning Association. Summer v60(3): 380-88.

29 Zimmer, Norman. Former Member of Meriden, Connecticut Conservation Commission. Interview with author. April, 2000.

Zube, Ervin H., Robert O. Brush and Julius Gy. Fabos. 1975. “Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions and Resources.” Dowden, Hutchinson & Ross, Inc. Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania.

Zube, Ervin H., David G. Pitt and Thomas W. Anderson. 1975. “Perception and Prediction of Scenic Resource Values of the Northeast.” in “Landscape Assessment: Values, Perceptions and Resources.” Dowden, Hutchinson & Ross, Inc. Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. p. 151-67.

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