As hunting and fishing licenses decline, wildlife officials are seeking to collect maintenance funds from 'non-consumptive' visitors
On any given day, Nancy Siegler will plant herself on a riverbank and cast a line in hopes of snagging a hefty length of trout.
"I fish as often as I can," the 64-year-old Cameron Park angler said.
It's been that way since she was a little girl, standing alongside her father as they cast their hopes together.
It's a fading legacy.
Fewer people in California and across the nation are choosing to spend time hunting or fishing. Instead, they are turning to wildlife viewing as a way to spend time outdoors.
And that rise and fall in different outdoor pursuits is at the heart of a controversy over how to equitably spread the cost of maintaining wildlife.
"It's always the angler and hunter paying for the entire department," said Sep Hendrickson, host of the Sacramento radio show "California Sportsmen," talking about the California Department of Fish and Game.
Not quite the entire department, but enough for concern, said Eric Loft, chief of the department's wildlife branch. Fish and Game has discussed how to levy costs on those who are known in the industry as "non-consumptive" wildlife visitors, he said.
"Is there a way to charge access fees to use our lands? There's certainly a cost to maintaining them," Loft said. "Everyone is driving on and off the roads. It costs us time and money."
Even though hunters and anglers are the minority, they spend almost double what wildlife watchers do on their outdoor pursuits. And they're subjected to more significant license fees.
U.S. hunters paid $152, on average, in fees for licenses and using public land in 2001. Anglers averaged $66, while nature watchers averaged $30, primarily as admission to public land.
In California, license fees bolster the state Department of Fish and Game's conservation fund, which pays for efforts such as planting browse for deer so they'll survive in winter habitat.
Revenue for basic hunting licenses rose from $16 million in 2001 to $18.4 million in 2006, but not because significantly more people bought licenses. The licenses increased in price -- from $28.50 to $33.25.
A recently released survey of sportspeople done by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service shows a 12 percent drop between 2001 and 2006 in the number of anglers in the country; hunters dropped by 4 percent.
Only one out of every 100 Californians call themselves hunters, compared with five out of 100 people nationwide. Six out of 100 Californians declare themselves anglers, compared with 13 out of 100 nationwide.
Rising costs, red tape, shrinking open space, an embattled image and competing interests for young recruits are all killing the sports, say long-time hunters and anglers.
"We've lost the war. All we are trying to do now is control the bleeding," said Hendrickson, a sportsman for 42 years. "It's very frustrating to be a Californian and a sportsman now."
During the same five years that hunting and fishing dropped off, wildlife-watching soared, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife survey. Thirty-one out of 100 people nationwide engaged in the hobby in 2006.
For the first time, California topped the nation in sheer numbers of nature watchers with 5.8 million, said Alex Pitts, a spokeswoman for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, which produces the survey every five years.
David Yee, who started birdwatching 42 years ago when he was 12, has seen the rising tide of the hobby.
"It's something that can be captivating at very little expense," said Yee, who has compiled a "life list" of 2,000. Past president of the Western Field Ornithologists, Yee has traveled the world to watch birds and has spotted 185 species just on his 22-acre Galt ranch.
The appeal of birdwatching seems to attract just about everyone, he said.
"You get all different walks of life and nationalities. When they get together, they are really on the same bill," he said.
Fish and Game has discussed how to levy costs on those who are "non-consumptive" wildlife visitors, Loft said. One problem is logistics.
"We just can't have kiosks on the road. We're not set up for that. We can try particular wildlife areas, but we're still at infancy stage of that," he said.
Some options never got off the ground, such as a campaign to convince fishermen to buy -- at $35.50 a pop -- more than one license as a kind of donation.
Others, such as adding a tax to binoculars or birdseed, created an uproar, said Jim Matthews, a San Bernardino publisher of three hunting newsletters and a syndicated hunting column.
"We can't get that passed," said Matthews.
The notion that only those who "take something home" need to pay is changing, said Chip Clouse, an assistant manager of conventions and tours with the American Birding Association in Colorado Springs, Col.
"Quite a few nature watchers do realize they need to contribute. They need to do their part," Clouse said. "They put trash in the trash cans and they use those restrooms," he said.
Some states have found ways to charge those who merely hike through the wilderness.
In Colorado, the state Division of Wildlife requires visitors on about 1 million acres of state wildlife refuges to buy a $10.25 stamp. The money, about $2.3 million annually, will go to habitat preservation.
There's nothing on the horizon to suggest that hunting and fishing will rebound -- and start generating more license revenue, said Rob Plath, who is on the board of directors of California Waterfowl Association, based in Sacramento.
As urban sprawl consumes acre after acre in the state, people feel less connected to hunting, said Plath, who grew up hunting in his backyard in Danville, before it was a bedroom community.
The prospect of a two-hour drive to find good hunting land and having to book a motel, is discouraging to hunting newcomers, he said.
Plath also believes the depiction of gun violence in the media is heightening fear of firearms.
"It makes it much more challenging to fashion a positive image of hunters," he said.
His organization raises money for wetlands conservation and has worked with non-hunting groups on preservation projects.
Membership has increased, Plath said, but probably because hunters feel an urgency to band together.
"Particularly in California, you're feeling like a small part of the population," he said.
Siegler, the lifelong angler, is president of the Lady Bugs Fly-Fishing Club. She also teaches fly fishing.
She will fish forever, she says.
There are fewer native trout than before. The price of the license is getting hefty. The cost to drive into the mountains to chase the fish is pricey.
But she hates that some children would rather play Nintendo than catch a fish.
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By M.S. Enkoji - Bee Staff Writer
Published 12:00 am PDT Monday, August 20, 2007
Story appeared in MAIN NEWS section, Page A12
