Invaders on The Black River

By B. Russell Leavitt/Centerville

Villages on Missouri's Black River like Lesterville and Centerville used to be oases of tranquillity, the destination of weekend canoeists, tube floaters and fishermen. No longer. All too often the solitude of the Ozarks wilderness is shattered these days by the whine and rumble of powerful engines. The river's banks are littered with mountains of discarded beer cans, used Pampers and empty motor-oil cans. A steady stream of pickup trucks rolls through village streets hauling trailers loaded with all-terrain vehicles, heading for the river's edge. Locals call it "the Invasion."

On Memorial Day weekend the invaders descended with a vengeance. Each day some 250 ATVs gathered on a stretch of the Black River near Centerville, a wide-open area of gravel bars and shallow water. The weekend warriors jousted at one another with their three- and four-wheel vehicles, running up and down the riverbed with abandon. As some ATV riders sat chugging beer on the bank, cohorts roared past at breakneck speeds, narrowly missing other vehicles. Music blasted from portable radios and car stereos, commingling with the whoops of riders and the growl of unmuffled engines. The air stank of gasoline. Usually clear, the Black River in places ran the crayon green of a sewage ditch as algae were stirred up by the commotion.

For the ATV crowd, it was all just good fun. But for conservationists and others interested in keeping the river pristine, the Invasion is a nightmare. Many had thought a bill passed by the Missouri legislature in April would ban ATVs in the river; the new law requires riders to have a landowner's permission to ride the river. The catch is that much of the Black River is still unposted, and the law has failed to halt the nightmare. "These things destroy the ecology of the river," says Larry Koeler, a Centerville lawyer, of the ATVs. "Some drivers drain their crankcases in the water. And if you're running a machine with oil and gas through the water, some of that gets in the river."

Canoe Guide John Marlin of the nearby Twin Rivers Landing receives up to 16 complaints a day about ATVs. "The problems are from outsiders," he says. "When all those people get together with ATVs, and you combine that with alcohol, you have a real problem." Horror stories abound. Former River Guide Eric Dunn recalls an encounter in which an ATV jostled a canoe and knocked a little boy into the river. The child's father and the ATV driver "went at it for a while," recalls Dunn dryly. "Over three years ago, a young boy tried to run down me and my wife and son," Marlin relates. "The boy splashed us on the first pass. The next time he was going to bump the canoe. I held the paddle like a baseball bat and took a swing. He didn't take the second pass. I've seen these ATVs herd canoes like a dog herds sheep."

Such tales finally forced the Missouri legislature to take this spring's action. But the onslaught of ATVs continues to worry local officials in Reynolds County, where the population of 7,500 increases as much as fivefold on holiday weekends. Even with the new law, says County Sheriff Gary Barton, he and his two deputies can hardly make a dent in the rampant ATV challenge. On Memorial Day weekend they wrote scores of tickets to ATV riders who trespassed on private property or were intoxicated. "Sometimes," says Barton, "it gets pretty hairy. You'll get there, and there will be 20 to 30 people all potted up. My nearest help is 45 minutes away."

The sheriff, who owns three ATVs himself, takes no chances. "I don't equip my patrol car with a regular rifle," he says. "I have an M-16. I leave it in the patrol car where you can see it. You have to make a show of force." Although the state conservation commission sent five agents into Reynolds County to help Barton out, it was not enough of a show to make much difference. "The ATVs still go anywhere they want," says Carolyn Hewitt, owner of the Twin Rivers Landing in Lesterville. "Until they bring in the state troopers or the National Guard, it won't do any good."

Rivers are not the only ecosystems involved in the no-holds-barred battle between ATV users and environmentalists. In California some 500,000 acres of public land are open to use by the increasingly popular off-road vehicles. The Ocotillo Wells State Vehicular Recreation Area east of San Diego, for example, draws tens of thousands of visitors. Environmentalists are enraged. Says Bob Hattoy, Southern California director of the Sierra Club: "They have ample room to play, but they feel they have the cowboy's right to ride the range wherever they want, whenever they want and how far they want."

California environmentalists are marshaling their forces against the ATVs. In May the state parks and recreation commission renewed a ban on off-road vehicles in California state parks, except for those areas specifically designated for their use. And California conservationists are continuing to push for an even bigger crackdown. Desert legislation proposed by Senator Alan Cranston would create 3 million acres of new national parks, where access would be limited to existing roads, and 4.5 million acres of protected wilderness that would be closed to all motorized vehicles.

In addition, about 28 other states, including Maine and Wisconsin, have laws regulating the vehicles. Several bills now pending in Congress would restrict the sale of ATVs or provide refunds to customers who have purchased the three- wheel versions. Hundreds of product-liability cases and class actions have been brought against manufacturers. James Lacy, general counsel of the Consumer Product Safety Commission, says there have been 998 ATV-related deaths since the beginning of 1982.

The stakes in the battle are high. Sierra Club Director Hattoy charges that the ATVs permanently scar the land, kill wildlife and destroy vegetation, as well as cause noise, safety and pollution problems. Says he: "We recognize their right to use public lands, but no one has the right to chase jackrabbits until their hearts explode, or roar over desert turtles." ATV Enthusiast Buddy Bray sees it differently. "I don't believe riding ATVs destroys the desert," he says. "All you kill is the bushes."

For their part, ATV owners warn that they will fiercely oppose Johnny-come- lately attempts to tamper with their sport. "I spent a lot of money on this thing," says Mike Leutzinger of Ironton, Mo., as he stands astride his ATV on the Black River. "Where else can you ride 'em? You can't ride 'em on the highway. You can't ride 'em in the woods. They're closing off the trails. This," says Leutzinger, pointing at the churned-up Black River, "is it."

With reporting by Ted Gup/Washington and Nancy Seufert/Los Angeles