Sunday, June 04, 2006
Volusia's wilderness faces human stampede
Development pressures imperil conservation corridor plans
DINAH VOYLES PULVER
The Daytona Beach News-Journal
ENVIRONMENT WRITER
Taking a drive along Pell Road is an adventure in wilderness Florida.
Steering is a challenge in the deep sandy road and there’s not a convenience store in sight. Motorists share the road with horseback riders and pass ancient oak hammocks draped in Spanish moss. Swallow-tailed kites soar in aerial acrobatics and the sand is criss-crossed with tracks of deer and turkey.
Here are the last pieces of an 80,000-acre land puzzle officials hoped to put together through the center of Volusia County and part of southern Flagler County, north more than 50 miles from the St. Johns River.
More than half the puzzle is complete. But key pieces in the bottom half are in jeopardy.
It’s like losing the last pieces of a cardboard puzzle in a jumbled toy box — only in this case, a lost piece may be gone forever. Not only would that damage chances for a wildlife corridor and cross-county trails, it would punch a hole in a possible 240-mile corridor between Lake Okeechobee and the Okefenokee.
This last expanse of undeveloped land between downtown Orlando and Daytona Beach is a hot spot for new housing. At least three big landowners have asked about annexing into Deltona, a move viewed by some as a way to allow more intense development on the land. And an Orlando developer has pieced together 3,000 acres just south of Lake Ashby.
“If we don’t do something now, and we have a window of opportunity right now, we’re going to end up like our sister counties,” said Glenn Storch, a land use attorney and member of a county committee pushing for a ballot measure this fall to limit development in the area.
The chance of preserving the corridor is dwindling as land prices skyrocket. Developers and investors are paying up to five times the appraised value. Government agencies, limited by law to paying appraised value, are left standing in the dust.
For example, the county and the St. Johns River Water Management District wanted the 4,700-acre Leffler Ranch between Osteen and Samsula for the corridor. Appraisals came in at nearly $10 million. But then the Lefflers annexed the land into Deltona and have it under contract to a South Florida developer for a reported $60 million to $70 million.
Corridor advocates fear time is running out. They worry: Can the Volusia Conservation Corridor still be saved?
Maybe, say those involved. But, admits Doug Weaver, director of land acquisition for the county: "It's going to be a challenge."
Those efforts shouldn't penalize the families who have remained in farming or forestry the longest, said the attorney for the Leffler family, C. Allen Watts. "They are expected by the public, without any compensation, to keep their lands in a museum status of what the whole county used to look like."
VISION FOR THE FUTURE
County officials long have recognized the center of the county is environmentally sensitive, better suited for wildlife and protecting underground water supplies than subdivisions and golf courses. It's covered with cypress swamps, pine flatwoods that flood during parts of the year, and scrub lands that capture and store rain water. And it's like a huge retention pond, holding water that might otherwise flood into people's homes. For decades, it was listed on county maps as a natural resources management area, with development limited to a few scattered houses.
That's what caught the eye of Reid Hughes, a Daytona Beach environmental activist, and Robert Christianson, director of land acquisition for the water district. Christianson said he and Hughes, a district board member at the time, were looking at possible land conservation projects in 1998 and noticed a natural corridor through the center of Volusia and Flagler counties that could "connect the dots" with other public land.
Such corridors were a worldwide trend, with groups from Colorado to the Congo trying to piece together tracts of protected lands. Scientists say such corridors are the best way to preserve natural communities. They may boost genetic diversity among plants and animals by letting them move freely over great distances.
The idea took hold here, as well. In 2000, Hughes helped lead the charge for a county land-buying program, called Volusia Forever, funded through a voter-approved property tax. The corridor was immediately placed at the top of the priority list. Any parcels within the corridor, with willing sellers, automatically go on an "A" list.
In the next five years, 26,436 acres were preserved by the county and its partnering agencies, such as the state Department of Transportation. Include other lands protected by the county and state agencies, and the number climbs to some 43,000 acres, most of it north of State Road 44.
There's still money left , including $28 million the county could borrow and repay through bonds. Plus, the land-buying tax brings in about $5 million a year and the water management district budgets millions more each year.
Even flush with cash, the agencies have a hard time keeping up with private investors. South of S.R. 44, some 10,000 acres within the proposed corridor has been sold or put under contract to developers in the past two years.
Last year, for example, investors snapped up seven square miles , between S.R. 44 and the Leffler Ranch, paying the owners, a retired teacher's pension fund, $13 million for 4,583 acres. County officials say the investors approached them but rejected a $16 million offer based on county appraisals, saying their own appraisers valued the land at $42 million.
Corridor advocates say perhaps governments should be allowed to pay more than the appraised price for land, given the current market. And appraisals should consider the land's long-term value as preserved green space, they say. It's one of the biggest problems in trying to conserve land, said Walt Thomson, regional director for The Nature Conservancy.
"Land is valued more for its real estate value than its conservation value," Thomson said. "In general, the problem is the current system doesn't work well in a very competitive market."
Corridor advocates see the proposed development of the Leffler timber farm as the biggest potential blow.
But, if the county truly wanted to steer development in the corridor, said Watts, the Leffler's attorney, it should have started a long time ago. Instead, it created the expectation that landowners would be able to use their land for some kind of development and their entire estate plans rest on that, he said.
The county is disputing the Leffler's annexation into Deltona in court. If county officials win, they say they intend to limit the commercial development and number of houses. A state appellate court ruled in the county's favor earlier this year and sent the case back to circuit court. Both sides are awaiting further orders from a judge.
The developers of the Leffler ranch, led by Sy Vogel of Boca Raton, are talking with city and county officials about their plans, which reportedly call for about 9,000 units. A whopping half of the land would be set aside for conservation.
County Chairman Frank Bruno said it's a great plan, just in the wrong place.
"He kind of incorporated everything we felt needed to be in a development of that size, with conservation areas and even wildlife bridges," Bruno said. "But my biggest problem with the whole thing is it's just too dense for the rural heart of this county."
Deltona leaders have a different view. They say they want to protect the corridor, but also need to expand the city's commercial and residential base. North is the only possible direction.
Deltona Mayor Dennis Mulder has said Vogel's plan balances preservation and growth.
The city's former development director, Bob Nix, an architect of the proposed northward move, said it's unrealistic to try to stop the city's expansion. Deltona already plans to expand its utilities to S.R. 44, which would service homes and stores in parts of the corridor.
"Quite frankly you have your head buried in the sand if you think it (development) is not going to happen," Nix said.
But corridor advocates are determined to block the move, however they can.
They hope elected officials vote down any plans for large developments and instead limit development in the corridor. Otherwise, the corridor may not be as large or as effective as originally hoped and may wind up squeezed around subdivisions and shopping centers.
Meanwhile, the county and water district stay in touch with the farming families who own the remaining large tracts of land.
"They (farmers) have an emotional attachment to the land," Weaver said. "They often want to see it protected for future generations."
Buying development rights to the farms allows families who've worked the land for generations to continue. That's what happened in Osteen with the LeFils and Fore families, who sold a total of 4,000 acres to the county for $11 million. As long as the land doesn't become rooftops and pavement, it has value as a home for wildlife, experts say.Weaver hopes a corridor can be pieced together, even if it means buying land adjacent to, but outside, the original boundaries. "We have the ability to go beyond that, thank God."
The water district's Christianson is resigned to that.
"It's unlikely that we would accomplish the corridor as it's originally set out, just due to market conditions," he said. "We just have to keep plugging along and take them one by one and see where we are at the end."
Critter and Plant Communities of the Corridor
The Volusia Conservation Corridor contains a diverse mix of habitats for plants and animals. Here are a few of the ecosystems:
MESIC FLATWOODS
*What is it? Several types of well-drained ecosystems, such as a dry prairie. It's home to pine trees, palmettos, sandhill cranes, diamondback rattlesnakes, bobcat, deer and the Bachman's sparrow, listed by the state as a species of special concern.
*Is it rare? The most widespread community in Florida, but very few undisturbed areas are left. It's resilient and can be restored.
*Did you know? Rattlesnakes are considered vulnerable worldwide.
BAYGALL
*What is it? A wetland with loblolly bay trees, dahoon holly, black bear and wood storks.
*Is it rare? It's considered uncommon.
*Did you know? The dark green leaves of the loblolly bay are a stunning backdrop for its milky white flowers. The cracked bark looks like the top of baked brownies.
BASIN AND DOME SWAMPS
*What is it? Bowl-shaped wetlands with still water, cypress and sweet gum trees, water moccasins, barred owls, pileated woodpeckers, alligators and swallow-tailed kites.
*Is it rare? Basin swamps are rare, found in fewer than half the counties in the state.
*Did you know? You can spot the “dome” from a distance, huge clumps of cypress trees, tallest in the center where it’s wettest.
WET PRAIRIE
*What is it? Seasonally wet, with wire grass, maidencane, St. Johns wort and hooded pitcher plants, cricket frogs and red-winged blackbirds.
*Is it rare? Imperiled, found in fewer than a third of the state’s 67 counties.
*Did you know? Pitcher plants are carnivorous, luring insects to their death with an attractive appearance and aroma.
SCRUB
*What is it? Ancient sand dunes sparsely covered with hardy plants and animals such as scrub oaks, rosemary, the Florida scrub jay and gopher tortoises.
*Is it rare? Yes, it’s considered globally imperiled.
*Did you know? Scrub plants are uniquely adapted to hold water, some leaves roll under to prevent the air from drying them out while others turn one direction or another to avoid direct sun.
Serial story: THE MOUSE AND THE MOTORCYCLE