Freewheelin’ in Deer Grove

Can mountain bikers and conservationists find happiness on the same land? Only time will tell as they go...

by Robert Dolgan

Thirty miles northwest of Chicago, at Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Palatine, a creek tumbles from the uplands and spills past savannas and prairie and into a broad wooded ravine. Here a carpet of wildflowers emerges in spring. The song of the Louisiana waterthrush rings through the woods, and rare plant species cling to the banks, as they have since prehistoric times. Remnants of an ancient ecosystem have found refuge here, the undulating topography protecting against clearing and lumbering.

But that topography has encouraged another threat. The same ravine that enchants naturalists is a popular site for mountain biking. Its steep banks and winding course create a challenging terrain that is scarce around Chicago. Low areas are rutted with wheel marks, and downed trees are scarred from bicycle chains. Streamside sections that had been lined with native plants for centuries are completely barren. In places, the ravine now resembles a BMX terrain park more than a pristine natural area.

“I’m disappointed with the mountain bikers,” says Carl Birkelbach, who has one foot in each camp: board president of the Friends of the Forest Preserves, and a founder of the International Mountain Bicycling Association. “Unfortunately, it’s been going on for years.”

There is hope

The naturalists and the cyclists (and there is much overlap between the groups) have recently begun meeting regularly at Deer Grove. Still, it’s a complex problem that will require not only the collaboration of stewards and bikers, but significant involvement from the Forest Preserve District itself.

The issues at Deer Grove highlight the inherent challenges in the forest preserve’s dual mission: preservation and recreation. A 500-acre section of Deer Grove was the first purchase of the fledgling Forest Preserve District of Cook County in 1916. An inscription on a stone marker at Deer Grove mentions the district’s aim to “perpetuate the forest and streams,” and pays tribute to “the athletically inclined.”

Deer Grove is such an important remnant of Illinois wilderness that it is under consideration as a state nature preserve — a designation that would permanently preclude any further development. The Illinois Nature Preserve Commission gave preliminary approval for the western section of Deer Grove as a state nature preserve in August 2008. Trail use is an issue that must be sorted out before the land is dedicated and receives the additional protection.

“The district is trying to balance enough recreation, but we also have to protect the area,” says forest preserve trails coordinator Mike Hart. “We’re not against mountain biking, but we have to follow our mission statement.”

What’s at stake?

Deer Grove has long harbored a mosaic of ecologically rich habitats. The area is home to four state-threatened plant species, one state-endangered plant species, two state-endangered bird species, one state-threatened bird species, and one state-threatened turtle. But in the ravine, vegetation has been trampled by the bikes, and the trail use has eroded the slopes through the years. According to experts, the erosion sends silt into the watercourse and degrades water quality. Illicit trail building also helps invasive species spread.

“The banks are attractive to bikers and fragile plant species,” says Pete Jackson, Deer Grove’s volunteer steward.

At 1,096 acres, the western section of Deer Grove is a relatively large swath of forest amid the northwest suburbs. It supports plants that prefer dry gravel soils, such as the threatened pale vetchling. Threatened birds, including waterthrushes, red-shouldered hawks and cerulean warblers, find sanctuary there.

“Its sheer size is a unique factor — a large tract of land with a large closed forest canopy that provides a habitat for forest species that require large tracts of woodlands,” says Steven Byers of the Illinois Nature Preserves Commission. “The wetlands support an interesting array of reptiles and amphibians.”

Know where you’re going

A wide, crushed limestone path encircles Deer Grove’s western section. Biking, horseback riding, hiking and cross-country skiing are allowed on the four-mile trail. Other marked, but unpaved, spur trails are devoted to hiking or cross-country skiing.

Legitimate trails are indicated with signs and on a user map provided to patrons. Within the limestone path’s loop is the unmapped, illegal network of “singletrack,” the term cyclists use to describe narrow dirt paths. The “Mountain Bike Staging Area” on the map is near these spider trails, though no legal singletrack is in sight. Cyclists suggest that signage is the problem.

“There are issues with signage and the map,” says Rick Nowak, president of the Northwest chapter of Chicago Area Mountain Bikers (CAMBr). “If there was clear signage, they wouldn’t be tempted to stray.”

On a recent visit, most of the primary entrances to the ravine had signs that showed that biking was prohibited, except for one post that was pulled from the ground.

“The signage is more than adequate,” says trail coordinator Hart. “We have our illegal trail signs up. If a trail is not marked open, it is a closed trail. What’s happening now is signs are getting pulled out of the ground on purpose.”

Mountain biking is something like BMX for grown-ups. Negotiating squirrelly downhills, hopping logs and speeding through the forest provide a rush that road cycling or pedaling on the lakefront path can never achieve. The sport exploded in popularity in the 1980s, and trail access has been an issue ever since. Internet message boards were awash with posts about the issues at Deer Grove during much of 2008.

The limited public land in the Chicago area makes the competing usage issues all the more acute. The tension has extended to the trails of Deer Grove, where a few confrontations between cyclists and preservationists have taken place. The relatively crowded mixed-use trails of the Midwest don’t allow for the vast opportunities afforded by the untrammeled — and sometimes less-regulated — expanses of the West.

“A lot of these bikers pick up mountain bike magazines and think they can do anything they want,” says Ed Bartunek, a longtime mountain biker whose day job is on the forest preserve’s trails crew. “I’ve been to British Columbia and Moab (Utah) and have seen what real mountain biking is. You have to have appropriate use in appropriate areas. You can’t do this in [only] 68,000 acres.”

The tension isn’t unique to the Chicago area. In Marin County, California, illegal mountain biking has been an issue for three decades. One hiker started a blog to draw attention to illegal riding and received death threats last summer. In Washington D.C., officials confiscate bikes from cyclists in Rock Creek National Park.

“Ninety-nine percent of [bikers] are staying where they belong.”

— Ed Bartunek

Not a new problem

For years, the illegal biking at Deer Grove has bedeviled those charged with protecting the area. According to some longtime residents, biking has taken place in the preserve since at least the 1980s. Some say that even motorbikes plied the trails in those wild west days. One section of ravine was fenced off in 2004 and has remained off-limits since. The illegal riding then became concentrated where it now takes place, upstream of the fence. Mountain bikers insist that it’s a few rogue riders who are causing the damage at Deer Grove — some adults, but also teens who ride in from the surrounding neighborhoods.

“Deer Grove is a natural area first and foremost,” Jackson says. “That is why it was designated for protection by the Forest Preserve District in 1916. The [illegal] trail system diminishes the value of Deer Grove as a large macrosite that provides habitat for rare birds and other organisms.”

“Ninety-nine percent of [bikers] are staying where they belong,” Bartunek says. “It’s like when you’re on the Eisenhower Expressway. There’s one or two people out there who are passing on the right, cutting people off or going too slow. There are always some people who will break the rules.”

Furthermore, “People don’t know what these plants are,” adds CAMBr’s Nowak.

Leaving a trail

Internet chatter on message boards and in cycling circles, though, indicates that many bikers know the trails are off-limits, but continue to ride anyway. The allure of singletrack is too much to pass up. The myriad wheel ruts, log jumps and evidence of trail maintenance seem to support that view. A forest preserve picnic table has been converted into a bike ramp. And a YouTube video appears to show a father and son attempting to jump the creek from a long downhill.

In addition to promoting responsible trail use, mountain biker organizations like CAMBr aim to open more trails to cycling, a goal often at odds with the goals of conservationists. The limestone path is a point of contention for bikers, says Nowak. The path had been a de-facto mountain bike singletrack trail before the forest preserve laid the gravel a few years ago. Bikes now share the trail with horseback riders and hikers.

“It’s a lot of neglect and a lot of mismanagement on the county’s part,” Nowak says. “The Yellow Loop used to be fun to ride, but it’s basically destroyed. They’ve made a trail system that really nobody likes.”

Nowak and his group have installed a few miles of mountain bike trails on the more flat east side of Deer Grove, across Quentin Road. Nowak, who began serious mountain biking a few years ago, admits that he rode the ravine trails back then. These days, he drives to the Palos Forest Preserve for a serious ride.

“If nature isn’t accessible, it may as well not be there,” he says.

Bartunek, Jackson and other conservation advocates think that education and enforcement are the keys to solving the problems at Deer Grove. The mountain bikers might understand the fragility of the ravine ecosystem if they only knew about it, says Hart. He suggests installing detailed signs explaining the situation. Experts say it would take more than a decade for the biked-over areas to recover if the cycling ended.

“They’ve made a trail system that really nobody likes.”

— Rick Nowak

“A lot don’t realize why it’s closed and what the impact is,” Hart says.

Even while the site is under review as a nature preserve, Nowak insists that the area surrounding the Deer Grove ravine can be converted into a bicycling mecca. “I know we could do something to protect the area and enjoy the ride,” he says.

The county and habitat volunteers disagree. “Right now, because it’s such a high-quality area, we can’t offer any more singletrack up there,” Hart says. “We can’t put in any more trails that would impact a high-quality area.”

A matter of enforcement

The forest preserve police department issues tickets to those riding in illegal areas, and it says it has stepped up patrols of the trails at Deer Grove in the past 18 months. But a judge threw out two recent citations when the defendants stated that signs were not posted. The actions have frustrated Jackson and his volunteers. The forest preserve police suggest that anyone who sees a rogue biker call 911 immediately. Others have suggested that bikes be confiscated from the cyclists.

“There are people out there abusing trails, and we’re trying to get them to stop,” says forest preserve police chief Richard Waszak. “Our guys have been out there on the trail, on foot and on bicycles, and we have issued tickets. We can’t be everywhere, and we need people to help us.”

The schism between the bike and nature factions isn’t always a clear one. All sides think the Forest Preserve District can do more about the illegal biking. Many cyclists are nature lovers, too. After all, what would mountain biking be without the mountain, or in Illinois, without an upland forest? Bartunek is the former head of CAMBr and now is employed as a part-time trail aide by the forest preserve. As an avid mountain biker and a certified master steward, he straddles the line between cyclist and restorationist.

“Last January [2008], I stepped back at CAMBr because of the conflict,” Bartunek says. “I was arguing with myself a lot. You look to the left and want more trails, and you look to the right and don’t want more trails. I was able to see the perspective of how we can work together.”

Common ground

In speaking with mountain bikers and restorationists, one finds more consensus than contentiousness. For the first time, the groups are now meeting regularly to discuss creating a sustainable trail system. The sensitive areas would be closed to cycling, improved signage would be installed, and better mountain biking trails would become available.

Birkelbach, the mountain biker who also heads the Friends of the Forest Preserves, thinks a partnership makes sense. “We care about exercise and recreation in natural settings,” he says. “We want to be part of a coalition that protects the environment.”

CAMBr’s Nowak, who goes by the screen name Renegade Rick, says he gets off his bike to photograph flowers every now and then.

“We build a trail and remove invasive species,” he says. “We aren’t just in it for mountain biking, but also for enjoying nature. Getting out in nature and enjoying that solitude — that’s what a lot of people are into.”

“We don’t like to be anti-mountain biker—we like to work with them. I’d like to see a meeting where we sit down with the forest preserve. We need some top-down acknowledgement,” adds Jackson, the Deer Grove steward.

Given all the common sentiments, there is hope that Deer Grove ravine will receive the protection it deserves. And the whirr of bike wheels will no longer interrupt the song of the Louisiana waterthrush.

“We need to stress what we have in common — everybody’s heart is in the right place,” adds Birkelbach. “We just need to solve our problems together.”

Related Articles:

Deer Grove, CW, Fall 2006