California Coast & Ocean

Hawkins knows the chaparral and he appreciates it. Steering his truck north on Highway 78 through the San Pasqual Valley, passing whitethorns with purple blossoms, he explained how, with the deep-rooted shrubs gone, nothing holds the soil in place, and nothing catches rainwater or keeps pollutants from flowing downstream and into the ocean. Stormwater that would have filtered down into the ground begins to cascade over pavement, carrying spilled oil, detergents, solvents, pesticides, fertilizers, and pet excrement into storm drains.

After San Diego's October 2003 Cedar Fire, 49 percent of the tree canopy and 73 percent each of chaparral and coastal sage was lost, according to a study by the nonprofit organization American Forests. The researchers, who employed satellite imagery, calculated that stormwater runoff within the fire scar increased by 12.6 million cubic feet and estimated the value of retaining this additional stormwater at $25 million.

Yet despite the benefits it provides, Californians have long viewed the brush as their enemy, and they continue to blame it for wildfires. Early settlers and cattlemen used to torch it to clear the land for homesteads and grazing, until they came to realize that by doing so they were inviting erosion, flooding, and the drying up of springs and streams.

When the Forest Service launched an educational campaign to persuade people that deeply rooted shrubs were needed to preserve the watershed and a year-round water supply for the cities, many scoffed. "The Forest Service was the environmental ‘wacko' of that time," Hawkins said. Eventually, however, the Cleveland National Forest was established toward these ends, with homesteaders and ranchers' support. This national forest is 88 percent chaparral and related shrublands. Halsey suggests it be renamed the "Cleveland National Chaparral Recreation Area" so people will better understand their native habitat. The "forest" misnomer applies to Los Padres and Angeles National Forests as well. There too, shubs vastly outnumber the trees.

Who's to Blame?
Today the conflict over chaparral pits conservationists and resource agencies, who are trying to protect it, against homeowners and elected officials who demonize it.

Halsey and others are campaigning for more sensible land use practices to make life safer for homeowners and firefighters and also for natural communities. He publishes an e-mail newsletter, The Chaparralian, and teaches natural history to school and community groups. "My gig is trying to get people to appreciate the ecosystem," he said. But that's still a tough sell.

On July 27, 2008, after the Basin Complex Fire burned 220,000 acres and destroyed 27 houses in Monterey County, the Carmel Pine Cone opined: "Unfortunately, if the Coastal Commission persists in protecting maritime chaparral from being cleared, it also won't be long before a lot more homes go up in smoke." In response, Coastal Commission spokeswoman Sarah Christie observed that residents chose to buy and build homes in a fire-prone region adjacent to nature preserves, and that "maritime chaparral, like the San Diego coast sage scrub, are not just fire-prone, they are fire-dependent. They have evolved over a millennium to require fire to regenerate. They have to burn, they will burn."