Tennessee's parks are getting a big boost in maintenance money. But critics say state administrators have their priorities wrong, favoring the man-made over the natural attractions.

by Joe Tarr

When the heat of Shreveport, La., got to be too much for Jerry Grigsby and his wife this summer, they loaded up their camper and headed to Tennessee's Fall Creek Falls State Park. They had never been here, but their 4-year-old granddaughter wanted to ride horses and the travel brochure said this was a good place. Grigsby raves about the park's beauty as their stay nears its end. "The only thing we have in Shreveport is casino boats," he says.

Farther north in the park, Pat and Dick Dannhardt meander past the soaking rhododendrons and hardwoods, up above the Cane Creek Falls. The Dannhardts—whose home is in Bristol, Va.—read about Fall Creek Falls in a National Geographic story about hidden treasures. Intrigued, they decided to have a look for themselves, and were impressed.

Just below the falls, a mother sits on the creek edge, watching and giggling at her two pudgy boys floating in bright yellow inner tubes. After awhile they crawl up a relatively gradual part of the falls then slide down with the water over the slick, black rocks. Their screeches echo through the valley, just before they plunk fanny-first into the cool water.

Meanwhile, Mike Stanifer is enjoying the park, too, but not by hiking through the forest or gazing at the falls. He's spending the day whacking a ball around the park's 18-hole golf course in spite of the day's gloomy sky and sporadic drizzle. Just 25 minutes from his home in Pikeville, Stanifer spends a lot of time tooling around the fairways and greens here.

He also once rented one of the park's luxury waterfront villas and spent a week here with his family. "I'd be hard pressed to find any park better cared for," Stanifer says. "I'd put this one up against any of them."

The gem of Tennessee's state park system, Fall Creek Falls tries to be all things to all people. But this approach has touched off a growing debate among park advocates over what state parks should be.

As state administrators see it, they are giving the public a wonderland of activities to pick and chose from: wilderness areas for the rugged, posh retreats for those who merely want to relax and can pay for it, and everything in between.

But conservationists—and even some within the Department of Environment and Conservation, which oversees the parks—say the state is promoting the extravagant, hard-to-manage frills: golf courses, luxury cabins, conference centers, restaurants, et al. In the process, they may be neglecting and sometimes threatening what they have been entrusted to protect—Tennessee's natural, recreational, and historical treasures.

A year ago, the state government was taking heat for its neglect of the 53-park system—cabins were rotting, trails eroding, a cracked pool sat empty. With at least $19.5 million in new funding on the way over the next three years, administrators have largely quelled those criticisms.

But a profound conflict over what the parks should be remains unresolved. With more golf courses being proposed, and a resort park in the works for East Tennessee, the struggle is likely to take center stage.

The Good News

In 1937, the Tennessee Legislature passed an act creating a state park system. The first park—Harrison Bay—was opened in 1938. Since then, the system has blossomed into one that draws some 30 million visitors a year.

The state holdings include urban oases like Bicentennial Capitol Mall in Nashville, undeveloped natural areas such as House Mountain in East Knox County, and the bread-and-butter recreational parks like Big Ridge on Norris Lake.

In the past few years, the parks had been largely neglected. Every year, maintenance money stayed the same or was cut despite a growing list of needed repairs. A spotlight was shone on the problem last September when a detailed Associated Press series ran in newspapers throughout the state.

Gov. Don Sundquist and the legislature have since responded. Even the harshest critics have found something to praise the Governor about.

"There's a lot of good news," says Alan Jones, executive director of the Tennessee Environmental Council.

The state has increased the parks' maintenance budget from $5 to $9 million for the next three years. Another $7.6 million will be spent on nine capital improvement projects, the cheapest of which is $275,000.

Jones is especially pleased with the effort to create a master plan—one that draws on input from nine public hearings held throughout the state.

"We can use it as a defense against bad environmental and park investments," Jones says. "We can say, 'Let's not spend money here, because it's against the plan.'"

Environmentalists are happy that the state is acquiring and protecting new patches of wilderness. This year, it announced plans to add over 3,240 acres to South Cumberland State Park in the Savage Gulf Natural Area and 2,000 acres around Columbia Dam in Maury County.

The state is also creating a new park, the Cumberland Trail. Now 65 miles long, the trail will eventually stretch 220 miles—from the Kentucky-Virginia border to the Tennessee River Gorge.

Sundquist also took a stand for environmental concerns last week when he officially protested the U.S. Office of Surface Mining's proposal on strip-mining along Fall Creek Falls. If approved, the plan will allow coal mining in the park's watershed.

State Sen. Bud Gilbert (R-Knoxville), who has fought to reform park management, is pleased with what he sees, especially the boost in maintenance money.

"Nobody has put that kind of investment in our state parks in the last 50 years," Gilbert says. "It's a good start. We ought to celebrate that and praise the Governor for doing it."

The Bad News

However, the biggest problems with the parks' management are festering, critics say.

"I think we've got the administration's attention. They recognize that a large segment of the population is unhappy with things that are going on," says William Minser, a professional conservationist. "But they're using a band-aid approach to quell that rather than a change in policy."

The Governor and his administrators are managing the parks with an eye toward development, rather than preservation. And these high-overhead operations are losing money and draining the department's resources.

Resort parks are the most elaborate in the system, with restaurants, inns, luxury cabins, golf courses, and other amenities. There are five of these: Fall Creek Falls, Pickwick Landing, Paris Landing, Henry Hurton, and Montgomery Bell. Predictably, these cost the most money to run.

In the 1996-97 fiscal year (the most recent year for which numbers were available), the state spent almost $17 million on its five resort parks—41 percent of its $41 million budget that year. The state's 22 recreational parks (which fall just below the resort parks in the attractions and amenities they offer) received $18 million, or 44 percent of the budget.

The remaining 21 parks got 15 percent of the budget.

None of the parks made money that year. Fall Creek Falls came the closest, making back 91 percent of its expenses. Overall, the parks made back about 57 percent of their budget, according to the department figures.

Critics perceive a push for the more popular parks to start turning a buck—thus the drive for more development.

"There's this thinking that the resort parks pay for the other ones," says Anne Marshall, executive director of Tennessee Recreation and Parks Association. "The ones they have now have never made money."

State parks director Walter Butler says the department is trying to make its parks more efficient and self-sustaining. But, he says, "We have some parks that just don't make money, and they serve a purpose. They're there so people can walk trails, enjoy nature, have picnics."

The state is being more aggressive in trying to sell its attractions. It recently created a marketing department, with Assistant Commissioner Pam Inman as its leader.

"[Among] the easiest things to sell about our state parks are the beauty and natural resources," Inman says. "But the beauty and natural resources don't produce revenue, unless we have something like an inn or a restaurant or a golf course."

But the state is forced to spend a lot of money and manpower promoting the golf courses, conference centers, and inns because it has so much invested in them, says one park administrator who asked to remain anonymous.

"When you have a golf course in your park, it's like inviting a lion to join you in a lunch snack," the administrator says. "The lion's going to get it all. It takes so much attention and manpower and money to run those things that the rest of the park is ignored."

Most of the new money being spent on parks is going toward repairing buildings or building new attractions, the administrator says. Little is being spent on the natural resources—such as servicing trails, planting native vegetation, preventing soil erosion, or improving water quality.

Lola Potter, spokeswoman for the parks system, contends that attention is being spent on both the high-end developments as well as preserving the natural resources. The inspiration for new developments is not to make a buck but to offer something for everyone.

"I tend to think diversity is good. Those various elements need to exist. If Tennessee offered nothing but natural areas in state parks, I'd probably never go to one," Potter says. "I spent a lot of my 20s doing the natural area thing. Now that I'm 40, I want a hot shower, I want to go get a meal. I don't want to eat alfalfa.

"I want a tennis court and a golf course. My friend wants to go count butterflies. The parks really can be both those things," she adds.

But a recent survey shows resort parks are not in demand among Tennessee residents. J. Mark Fly, an associate professor at the University of Tennessee's Forestry, Wildlife, and Fisheries Department, conducted a statewide random survey last year.

Of the 2,488 residents interviewed, three-fourths said they visit state parks at least occasionally. Only 2 percent said the state should emphasize building resort parks while 44 percent said preserving land for nature-oriented recreation should be the priority. About half favored a combination of the two. And 68 percent ranked preservation the most important, while 22 percent said development was key.

Those results were echoed by comments brought out at nine public hearings held earlier this year on a park plan. The park's department compiled a list of seven goals from the meetings.

The number one goal is to protect and preserve natural and cultural resources, by acquiring more land, hiring natural resource managers, and creating a mechanism to assess the impact of large developments. The second goal is to adequately fund parks, with an emphasis on current facilities over new, high-cost developments.

The third goal is to provide high-quality recreation facilities—but with a priority on "natural-resource-based recreation before building facilities (example: lake swimming vs. pools)."

And park visitor surveys—as reported by the Associated Press last year—rank walking, hiking, and picnicking most popular, while golf is ranked 21st out of 25 activities.

In their argument against golf courses and restaurants, many point to the 1937 Act establishing state parks.

Minser often quotes a section of it: "...every park under the provisions of this Act shall be preserved in its natural condition, so far as to be consistent with its human use and safety, and all improvements shall be of such character as not to harm its inherent recreational value."

"The inherent value might be an old homestead, or a cave, or a natural area," Minser says. "If you do something to destroy the inherent value, you're in violation of this Act.

"When you bulldoze part of a park to make a golf course or a convention center...you are betraying the trust of the people."

Jenny Freeman, president of Tennessee Citizens for Wilderness Planning in Oak Ridge, agrees: "A golf course is not unique to the state of Tennessee, a resort is not unique to the state of Tennessee. Let tourism do that."

Park Politics

Despite their drain on state coffers and the lack of demand, the state continues to build expensive attractions. Four Jack Nicklaus signature golf courses, called Bear Trace, are being constructed for $20 million at four state parks. (See related story).

Another $56 million in bonds were taken to build conference centers at Paris Landing, Montgomery Bell, Pickwick Landing, Fall Creek Falls, and a group lodge, inn, and conference center at Natchez Trace.

All of these projects were approved before Gov. Sundquist took office. Sundquist, however, is further pushing the high-end attractions at state parks. The anonymous administrator says the trend is toward extravagance.

"We're building cabins that cost more than $100 a night to rent. We can't rent ours because they're so expensive," the administrator says. "Kentucky has built a whole round of cabins that are basically stripped down shells, but you can't hardly get in them because they're so popular."

Two more golf courses were proposed last year. But faced with criticism from residents and advocacy groups, the Legislature shot them down. More will probably be proposed, says Mike Fitz, the state architect.

"The Governor has said he'd like to build some more. He'd like to add to the Bear Traces. But there's been no monies appropriated to date," Fitz says. "There's a feeling we don't have any in East Tennessee."

There's also a strong desire in some quarters for an East Tennessee resort park.

"We've got people all over Knoxville and East Tennessee, and I'm talking big influential people, who are dying for a resort park in East Tennessee," Potter says. "East Tennessee has begged for one and has been T'd off because it hasn't gotten one. [Department of Environment and Conservation] commissioner [Milton] Hamilton has said he wants one of his legacies to be building a resort park in East Tennessee. So get ready for it."

Rumor has it among the conservationist crowd is that the Tellico Plains area is being eyed for that luxury park. Gilbert's heard the rumors, too.

"I've been assured if we do any more golf courses, it's not going to be on any existing park land. It might be on land adjoining park land," he says.

On an East Tennessee resort, Gilbert says, "I was somewhat assured if we get one it's because of a situation we can't walk away from," such as land being donated.

How these projects and parks get approved has many people wringing their hands in frustration. They see it as a matter of back-room deals and favors to politicians who want something new in their district, rather than citizen input.

Joe Deathridge, a member of Friends of Norris Dam, says that politics also plays a big role in who gets the park management jobs. "You don't necessarily get qualified people," he says. Those who are qualified often feel beholden to their political bosses.

Many believe the only real way to immunize the parks from politics is to create a nonpartisan commission that would oversee their management. The commission would have dedicated money—perhaps partially funded by user fees—that couldn't be cut at the legislature's whim. The Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency, which manages the state's fish and game animals, operates under such a system, using the money it gets from hunting and fishing licenses.

Gilbert had proposed such a bill, but it never made it through the committees. Gilbert later proposed a bill requiring the Governor to get legislative approval before straying from a master plan now being developed. That bill was approved by the Legislature, but Gov. Sundquist vetoed it.

A compromise was passed that requires the Governor to notify the legislative committees when it intends to stray from the master plan.

"The administration can say, 'Now that we've passed it through the legislative committees, we can do what we want with it,'" says Marshall, of the Tennessee Recreation and Parks Association.

However, Gilbert is happy with the compromise and trusts Sundquist is moving the right direction.

"[The Governor] has a lot more flexibility to change the plan, but we will know about it. We will at least have an opportunity to raise voices and say that's not in the best interest of the parks."

The confidential park administrator says the park's division has made some excellent decisions of late.

"The administration has responded in some cases with very responsible decisions," the administrator says. "In other cases, it continues to ignore and fly in the face of overwhelming public demand."

A Walk in the Park

Clutching a beach towel in his hand, Jeremy Byrd wanders past a picnic grove at Big Ridge Park north of Knoxville. Byrd is on the way to the swimming area built into a Norris Lake inlet. It is a muggy day, and a mass of gray clouds grumble. The thunder has prompted the lifeguard to shut down the pool, and Byrd will have to wait a bit to take a dip. The 26-year-old will have plenty of company.

He and 46 other family members are staying at the park for a family reunion, an annual tradition for the Elliott clan. They come from all over—Florida, Delaware, Pennsylvania, North Carolina. Family members have been gathering here for 40 years.

They've seen plenty of changes here. Pathways and picnic shelters have been added, and once there were horses. But at the same time, the park has "been pretty much the same for 40 years," Byrd says.

They have a few minor complaints, a few things they wouldn't mind seeing at the park.

But Linda Elliott O'Neil says none of that really matters. "I'm not sure it'd make any difference to us. We'd still keep coming," she says.

The politics and policies that shape Tennessee's state parks may be largely invisible to most people. But that doesn't mean the parks aren't important to them.

Whatever direction state administrators are leading the parks, they might want to keep in mind that people already love them.

Walking away from the Cane Creek Falls, the Dannhardts say they were impressed with what they saw. It doesn't bother Pat Dannhardt that Fall Creek Falls has a golf course. "It accommodates everybody's activities," she says. "Although I can't imagine wanting to be on a golf course rather than down here."

And as Jerry Grigsby was about to take off to Chattanooga for the next leg of his family vacation, he spoke with envy of what Tennessee has.

"There's a lot of natural things here people ought to be proud to have so close by.