“We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a commodity to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect” – Aldo Leopold
While the truth of Leopold’s quote applies almost anywhere, it appears to be especially true for deserts. Deserts are seen by many as barren wastelands, so abuse of the land, through trash dumping or scarring the deserts with off-road recreational vehicles, is of no consequence to them, and by their rationalizations, to anyone or anything else. Of course there are others who see the beauty and richness of deserts. 
Over 60 years ago University of California Riverside professor Wilbur (Bill) Mayhew had dedicated his academic career to uncovering the secrets of how desert reptiles not only live but thrive in the hottest and driest North American desert, the Colorado Desert (yes, Death Valley is hotter and drier, but Death Valley is a relatively small subset of the Mojave Desert, which on average is both cooler and wetter than the Colorado Desert). Much of Dr. Mayhew’s research occurred in the Coachella Valley, an easy drive from the Riverside campus. Through the 1960s and 70s Mayhew saw the Coachella Valley change, from a collection of small towns along the foot of the San Jacinto and Santa Rosa Mountains, to a land rush to see who could build as many golf resorts as possible. The belief at that time was that the only way to attract new residents into the Coachella Valley was to build homes with lush grass lawns fronting on lush grass golf courses. Clearly not the same as trash dumping and off-road vehicle damage, but in one respect the result was much the same, if not worse; there was no regard for the unique animals and plants that were found there and nowhere else. There was no respect for the land, after all it was just a barren wasteland. What was worse was that once converted to a golf course and resort homes it would be almost impossible to restore the land back to its natural condition, especially if that land was once a sand dune.
Rather than just watch this conversion from pristine desert to a golf mecca occur, Mayhew decided to make a difference. Testing the strength of the U.S. Endangered Species Act (signed by Richard Nixon in 1973) and the California Endangered Species Act (signed by Ronald Reagan in 1970), Mayhew lead a group petitioning both federal and state agencies to include protection for the Coachella Valley fringe-toed lizard, a species only found on the sand dunes of the Coachella Valley. In 1980 those petitions were approved, and the fringe-toed lizard was listed as Threatened under the federal law and Endangered under the California law. That should have stopped the conversion of sand dunes to golf courses, but it didn’t. 
The remaining sand dunes were largely owned by private entities, all with their eyes on cashing in on the on-going golf resort bonanza. And neither the state nor federal governments were interested in testing the relatively new respective endangered species acts against private property rights. Mayhew persevered. He and others threatened to sue the state and federal governments for their lack of action toward protecting a listed species. That threatened lawsuit catalyzed a series of meetings between Mayhew, the government representatives, conservation groups, city officials, and landowners. The group referred to themselves as “The Lizard Club.”  Mayhew’s engagement was critical throughout. He provided both scientific legitimacy to the process and was persuasive to city and county officials through sharing his vision that in the future the people of the Coachella Valley would cherish those open space natural areas as much or more than New Yorkers cherish their Central Park. In 1986 those meetings resulted in a first-in-the-nation conservation plan aimed at protecting the lizard and balancing that protection with the economic interests of the cities and private landowners. 
By the early 1990s it became clear that more protection was needed to ensure that the natural sand transport processes, flooding bringing sand to the valley floor and wind pushing that sand into dunes, could be sustained. Without that added protection the dunes would eventually either move off of the protected lands or become stabilized. In both cases the result would be the lizards’ habitat would be lost. In large part due to the respect that the fringe-toed lizard conservation plan had generated between all participants, new meetings began in 1996, resulting in what today is known as the Coachella Valley Multiple Species Conservation Plan, signed in 2008. Rather than only being focused on a single state and federally listed lizard, this plan protects a wide range of plants, animals, and their habitats regardless of whether they are listed under the Endangered Species Act or not.
Today, 42 years after Coachella Valley fringe-toed lizards were listed as threatened and endangered, they still thrive in each of the five areas within the Coachella Valley that were set aside for their protection. However, there are still threats. In wet years an invasive, non-native plant, Sahara mustard, crowds out native dune plants and in doing so reduces food and space for fringe-toed lizards and a long list of other reptiles, insects, and plants. In dry years the mustard fails to germinate, and on average there are more dry years than wet years. Those essential sand transport process, flooding, and wind, continue to be a challenge as those same processes can block highways that are essential corridors for people to get to work or more critically get to a hospital in an emergency. Bridges are the solution, but bridges are expensive. 
Another threat is climate change. We are now in the most severe drought in over 1,500 years. Every year is hotter than the last. Back in the 1980s and 1990s when these conservation plans were being developed climate change was beginning to be understood but was nowhere near the forefront of conservation concerns that it is today. We are documenting many other lizard species inching their way to higher, cooler, wetter elevations as the drought and heat create more severe aridity. Fringe-toed lizards don’t have that option as they are tied to the sand dunes and the sand dunes are not moving up the mountains. There is, however, a rainfall gradient within the Coachella Valley, with wetter conditions toward the western edge of the valley. 
This year, as we conduct our annual surveys of the lizards, it is increasingly apparent that the lizards occupying those more western sand dunes are maintaining higher population densities than those further east. Back before golf courses and highways, back when there was a single continuous sand dune “sea” from one end of the Coachella Valley to the other, I imagine the fringe-toed lizard populations ebbed and flowed with wet and dry years. Today that is still happening, even without the connectivity that once characterized their habitat. That the hotter-drier eastern sand dunes are still sustaining fringe-toed lizards, albeit at lower densities than those in the west, would almost have certainly piqued Dr. Mayhew’s research interest. What is it about the lizards, or their habitat, or both, that continues to allow a sustaining population on one of the hottest, driest habitats in North America? How are they able to live under conditions that are sending other lizards “running” up the mountain?
Today, after some 130 or so golf courses have been built across the Coachella Valley, the enthusiasm for golf has waned. No new golf courses have been built over the past decade, and some older courses are considering closing. Too much water is needed, and the maintenance is increasingly costly. Some courses are even being reimagined as urban wildlife habitat for people and other animals. The Coachella Valley visitor’s bureau has identified hiking and access to natural areas as the number one activity for visitors and residents alike. Wilbur Mayhew’s prediction of a Coachella Valley populace that increasingly values open space natural areas is becoming a reality. We need more like Aldo Leopold and Wilbur Mayhew, to lead us to a future of viewing ourselves as part of the land and in doing so treating that land with love and respect.   
Nullius in verba
Go outside, tip your hat to a chuckwalla (and a cactus), think like a mountain, and be safe.