Road Overload

The first time I saw a backup camera in my dad's new car I thought the future had arrived. The first time I actually used a backup camera I had trouble trusting it, still relying on mirrors and the ol' arm-over-the-passenger-headrest to nestle my vehicles into or out of parking spaces.

My present vehicle has a backup camera but, like most folks in rural Iowa, I usually cannot use it because I forgot to wipe the dust off it before getting in. I drove down to Iowa City recently, and my GPS (the future has indeed arrived) took me on the scenic route. It also offered three alternative options, adding maybe 3 to 10 minutes to my drive. A thought popped into my mind: why do I have three wildly different options to get from point A to point B that all take about the same amount of time?

Many ways to skin the cat

Iowa ranks 32nd in population, 26th in total area, and 15th in total road miles. All 14 states on the list above us have a significantly higher population. Of those, only Oklahoma doesn't at least double our census totals.

Map of Iowa's gravel roads, courtesy of Iowagravelroads.com

Our present condition likely hearkens back to the "Get Iowa Out of the Mud" campaign of the 1920's, a massive effort to replace rutty, dirt tracks crisscrossing the state with improved gravel surfaces.

By 1925 already, Iowa had one car for every 3.6 persons, a figure only surpassed by California. As of 2021, we still rank 4th in the nation for this figure.

Surprise surprise, our agricultural heritage has a lot to do with our relative abundance of both roads and vehicles. Dating back to the early 20th century, having a road pass through each little village and hamlet was considered vitally important for local economies, and far-flung farmers needed to reliably get their goods to market.

Prior to that, the General Land Survey laid roads out in 1 mile by 1 mile grids, north to south and east to west. With the comparative lack of obstructions in our gently rolling plains, early engineers had few obstructions that demanded rerouting from this system.

This leads to today, when we have the most unpaved road miles of any state, though that superlative remains open to debate. We also have the 7th most bridges per capita, and the most bridges in poor condition with an estimated 1 out of every 5 Iowa bridges needing repair. Hooray!

Lansing Bridge in desperate need of repairs

But let's back up - what do we mean by "need?" I remember shortly after I started here helping my boss check off some boxes before a bridge repair project could begin. The repair would cost approximately $50,000, and connected two fields owned by the same farmer. From his farmhouse to the field on the other side of the bridge was about half a mile; without that particular bridge, that commute would become 3 miles.

Easy for me to say, but how much did we really "need" that bridge repaired? For that matter, now that what probably used to be two farms has been consolidated, how much do we really "need" that road at all? dodges hail of tomatoes thrown by rural residents

I get it. I grew up in a farmhouse that was the only house along that particular country mile; we never even had a truck, let alone a tractor. If the county had not maintained our road it would have meant significant costs and effort to connect us to the civilized world in the winter or during the wet season.

But for all the ecological woes facing Iowa, I find it curious we do not have more discussion around our road infrastructure. Most of us nature-minded people have gone full broken record on Iowa's lack of public land: just over a million acres total, good for 47th in the US. Sometimes, you will see a follow-up to that statistic: more than half of Iowa's public land is actually road right-of-way. Sometimes, that statistic is used to highlight the sad state of Iowa's public lands, sometimes it's used to emphasize the importance of planting native in roadsides to facilitate connectivity for wildlife.

Image courtesy of the Tallgrass Prairie Center

But not a lot of dust gets kicked up (pun intended) about the complete lack of ecological function in those roadsides. The EPA "rule of ones" states that 1 car, making 1 pass per day on 1 mile of gravel road generates 1 ton of dust per year. That figure probably makes you cough just hearing it; it indeed creates significant respiratory issues, but it also creates all sorts of ecological issues. Coating the surface of plants along the roadsides impairs their ability to photosynthesize. One study found a staggering 40% of the sediment load in streams came directly from the gravel roads in their watershed, despite making up a tiny fraction of the overall watershed area.

The number one pollutant in Iowa's waterways is sediment - our streams are cloudy, their beds a homogenous pile of sand. Historically, these streams had clear water filtered by prairies and woodlands, flowing over riffles and runs created by a mosaic of gravelly spots, rocky spots, and sandy spots.

Along the Turkey River

We attribute much of this sediment load to agriculture, and for sure conventional tillage and edge-to-edge practices play a huge role, but how much comes from the copious volumes of gravel road dissecting our landscape? Heavy sediment input has caused increased flooding by raising streambeds, another example of a feedback loop when that heavy flooding inundates a gravel road.

But even before that road dust runs off, it piles up to considerable depth in the ditch. They need dug out every decade or so. What does this mean for the soils? Well, gravel outwash is not exactly black Iowa dirt. The Tallgrass Prairie Center makes specific seed mixes for poor soils and ditch cleanouts, but again, these narrow strips make up more than half of Iowa's public land. If we want to use them to connect the few remaining healthy natural areas, we're tilting at windmills. All but the heartiest species can handle the daily beating plants must take in a county roadside. Heavy metals build up in the soil. Exhaust fumes disrupt the gas exchange taking place in every leaf blade. Each car brings a new influx of dirt, burying tiny seedlings and prostrate growth habits. And I haven't even mentioned Busch light cans.

Then there's the wildlife. "Watch out for deer" is midwestern for "I love you." America has lost approximately 3 billion birds since the 1950's, and collisions with cars make up the 3rd-leading cause of bird mortality, behind only building collisions and cats. All but one of the birds at the Osborne Wildlife Exhibit came to us because they could no longer fly after a vehicle collision.

Now, you might think that for all their dust and sediment outputs, at least gravel roads allow rainwater to infiltrate, right? Surely paved roads have a much greater impact on flooding, even with the increased sedimentation of gravel roads, right?

Well, no. Gravel roads actually perform pretty similarly to pavement due to compaction. We have all seen washboards that held water for days after a rain. Even those roads that turn into quicksand only have an inch or two of loose stuff before percolating water encounters hardpan.

And in the long run, gravel roads may not even be less expensive than paved roads. Every year our secondary roads crews go out to apply more rock, to grade washboards, fix washouts, etc. Aside from winter, most paved surfaces go years without maintenance. The upfront costs may be higher for pavement, but it's a classic case of "penny-wise and pound-foolish," or at least it would be if we were starting from scratch, which, unfortunately we're not.

My parents have always said the day they see pavement in front of their house is the day they move. Dirt and gravel roads are our culture. Rolling hills of light-tan gravel stretching to the horizon between two cornfields is the enduring image of Iowa in most of our minds.

But increasingly, Iowans who have that view out their front door are becoming a minority. While Iowa's population keeps growing, most of that growth occurs via movement to a few major metros. Across the state, rural areas have seen their populations go down, including Clayton County, where our population has declined by approximately 11% since 2000. When I think of the staggering workload placed on our county budgets, our county roadside department, our native flora and fauna struggling to exist in the dust-caked strip of habitat between crop stubble and bare gravel, I wonder how much potential we bury under 2" lime each year.

Iowa's gravel roads have made it a mecca for cyclists; what if we leaned into that? What if we went the way of rails-to-trails, and converted more of our low-traffic streets to non-motorized travel (or at least no heavy vehicles)? Are we overlooking some low-hanging fruit for better quality of life?

Instead of adding to the sedimentation of local waterways, could those retired roads function instead to intercept, acting like prairie strips that captured nutrients and sediment leaving adjacent fields?

Again, easy for me to say - I scarcely have to plow my tiny driveway and the city takes care of the pavement beyond. But I would counter that maybe, just maybe, each and every taxpayer need not subsidize half a dozen ways for me to get from McGregor to Iowa City. Maybe, just maybe, we could make a little more room for the wild things.

Upcoming Events

First up, retired Buchanan County Conservation board director and tireless advocate for wild things Dan Cohen will be speaking at 2:00 PM on Thursday, February 19th on the Outdoor Recreation Trust Fund. If you're reading this, and you voted in 2010, you probably voted for this fund's establishment, yet it still sits empty. Dan will talk about the current state of the legislature and the trust fund. If you want to know more, there is no better person from which to learn.

The next day on Friday, Febuary 20th, naturalist Abbey will lead an Owl Prowl right here at Osborne! This event was rescheduled from January due to unfathomably cold temps, so if you missed your window then, come on out next month! Last but not least (for now), the 10th annual Motor Motor Trail Runs are coming up on Saturday, March 21st. Don't miss out on one of the best races around, whether you're an athletic specimen or just a weekend warrior.