Go Green

By John Sutter

The Los Angeles Times has a story this morning on the 1,000 acre switchgrass field in the Oklahoma Panhandle. A reporter talked with the gentleman who’s growing the biofuels crop, which is native to this state and the Great Plains, and can be grown on marginal land:

Curtis Raines describes himself as “just a dumb old farmer” who’s not afraid to ask an obvious question: Why grow corn for fuel when it could be used to feed hungry people?

“That just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me,” Raines said.

State leaders are banking on that kind of common sense, and have invested in grass-based biofuels research. As I reported in The Oklahoman, the issue rests on the ability of industry to transform the grasses into fuel. That hasn’t been done on commercial scales, and is the focus of much of the state-funded research:

About one-fifth of the corn crop in the United States is converted into ethanol, a fuel that can be mixed with gasoline and then used in standard automobile engines.

Ethanol once was seen as a silver bullet in the nation’s battle for energy independence, and, to some extent, the battle against global warming.

But corn ethanol started drawing heated criticism late last year as food prices jumped around the world, putting basic nutrition out of the hands of many of the world’s poor. Jean Ziegler, the U.N.’s independent expert on the right to food, called food-to-fuel schemes a “crime against humanity.”

Officials say Oklahoma is free from any of that blame because it is not much of a corn-producing state. The 2008 corn crop here is expected to cover 330,000 acres, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. That’s about 5 percent of the state’s total crop acreage.

Researchers and officials say switchgrass, which is native to the state and the Great Plains, will do better here. It will grow on marginal land not suitable for food crops. If managed properly, it wouldn’t contribute to food shortages.

Nathanael Greene, a senior policy analyst at the Natural Resources Defense Council, warned against taking the concept too far.

“It’s important that we not latch onto a crop like switchgrass as a panacea, because we could start harvesting corn fields and planting them with switchgrass and cause the same amount of complications — and reduce the amount of food available — as we do now,” Greene said.

“I don’t think any technology is inherently evil, or inherently the solution,” he added.

By John Sutter

The Boise City News today printed a monster headline announcing — kind of — the governor’s visit to the drought-stricken area of the Oklahoma Panhandle.

“He Finally Made It!?! July 16 2008 It’s G-Day,” the headline reads.

The paper still seems to question whether or not a drought that’s been compared to the 1930s Dust Bowl will be enough to get Gov. Brad Henry to visit. The governor allegedly has never visited distant Cimarron County, with a sparse population of 2,664.

According to C.F. David, the paper’s publisher, owner and editor, the lead story begins: “If Oklahoma Gov. Brad Henry shows up in Cimarron County today as he’s promised, it will have taken him 2011 days, or 5 years 6 months and three days to travel the 350 odd miles form the state capital to Boise City. But to make the trip the governor will have flown rather than driven. So he will still be in the dark about how much the entire Panhandle needs highway dollars. Maybe next time.”

By phone at about 11 a.m., an hour before the governor’s scheduled visit, David said he had written the governor two massive $50 checks — one for show, and one to answer a bounty he’s had out on Henry since 2006. In print, David has offered $50 up to anyone who could prove Henry has visited Cimarron County since he took office as governor.

When the meet this afternoon, David plans to hand over the check. Henry plans to donate the money to charity, according to the Associated Press.

At about 11 a.m., David said by phone that he still was delivering newspapers. Then he planned to go home, change into a t-shirt that promotes Cimarron County, and get ready to meet the governor.

The purpose of the visit is to talk about the drought, but David said he hopes the governor takes home a broader message.

“Even though there are less than 3,000 voters up here, we are part of Oklahoma and we need to be respected and heard,” he said.

He hopes that message resonates with future political candidates also, he said.

By John Sutter

After being petitioned by the governor, the state agriculture secretary, two U.S. senators and a U.S. congressman, the U.S. Department of Agriculture announced on Thursday that it will send drought relief to two Oklahoma Panhandle counties hit with a drought that’s been compared to the devastating 1930s Dust Bowl.

The disaster declaration comes after state Agriculture Secretary Terry Peach said that drought relief likely wouldn’t come until September. The drought has plagued Cimarron and Texas counties–at the western end of the Panhandle–for more than a year. Climatologists and officials didn’t take notice until the spring, after a Cimarron County commissioner sent a letter to state government.

Conservation officials prompted that letter, and, in effect, it led to the area being given the government’s most severe drought rating– “exceptional” — and to recent visits by Peach and Assistant State Climatologist Gary McManus.

Read more about the people of the Panhandle and the lead-up to Thursday’s disaster declaration in previous blog posts.

By John Sutter

For this morning’s paper, I wrote a story about scattered rain that’s fallen recently on the drought-ridden Oklahoma Panhandle — nourishing one couple’s hope that they’ll be able to keep their cattle, and their ranch.

I left out a fun detail, though.

There’s a newsman in Boise City named C.F. David. He’s the publisher/owner/editor of The Boise City News, a weekly paper that’s been prodding Gov. Brad Henry for two years to visit Cimarron County, at the western end of the Panhandle.

David has a $50 “bounty” out for anyone who can prove the governor has been to Cimarron County before. The governor’s spokesman says Henry’s never visited. You’d think the newsman would be thrilled that the governor now says he’ll visit the Panhandle soon (although he’s yet to set a date), to take a look at drought conditions that locals are comparing to the 30s Dust Bowl.

But David’s got his doubts.

If the governor comes, David said he will hand him a $50 check: an answer to his bounty. But until that happens — and this is the part I left out — David is telling locals to send the governor Oklahoma maps. He asked them to circle Boise City on the map, and trace the 6-hour route from Oklahoma City to the Panhandle for him.

Maybe he just doesn’t know the way.

By John Sutter

When I was up in the Oklahoma Panhandle a couple of weeks ago covering the drought, I decided to drop by Kenton, an out-of-the-way place that sits at the foot of Black Mesa, and is the only place in Oklahoma that goes by Mountain Time.

In Kenton, they call it “slow time.” This has all sorts of quirky implications for an independent-minded place like Kenton. It’s especially interesting, though, that Kenton isn’t technically on Mountain Time. According to the U.S. Department of Transportation, which keeps track of such things, the town is on Central Time, just like the rest of Oklahoma.

For some reason, long before anyone can remember, Kenton decided to switch. The change has stuck, and even the postmaster in town goes by “slow time.”

I bring this up on the environment blog because there’s much ecotourism to be done in Kenton. It’s supposedly a birder’s paradise — with entirely different species from the rest of Oklahoma. And you can hike local canyons and to the top of Black Mesa, which is the highest point in Oklahoma. The land is volcanic, and so there’s a creek bed where dinosaur tracks are frozen in time.

When you drive west from Boise City to Kenton, the land seems to instantly change — prairie to canyon-land in a snap. It’s little-known, but Oklahoma has some of the greatest ecological diversity of any state in the nation. Depending on how you slice it, there are 8 to 12 distinct ecosystems in the state. They’re worth seeing for yourself.

(PS: I got the idea to drop by Kenton when I stumbled onto a blog at okaycity.com.)