Jack Duggan

I first closed the road during the fire season a year ago. Last spring, hearing too many stories of dangerous turkey hunters breaking down fences and firing weapons at random, I closed it again. When fire danger became extreme this past July, I closed it again. It's been closed ever since.

The road in question runs lengthwise through the east half of the west half of Section 32, roughly one mile in length. During the gold mining fever through the glory days of logging, the road connected the Applegate Valley to the Rogue River. By the 1940s, with state highways and surfaced roads providing better access, the road became a backcountry anomaly, used infrequently by loggers and mushroom hunters. The family's 1872 homestead was leased to a caretaker who, in addition to exceeding the terms of the lease with high-grade logging, kept interlopers at bay with a rifle barrel.

The old 1910 cabin became a summer place for friends and family after the caretaker was evicted in the late '60s. In 1971, I became the first of the current generation to live on the land, seeking the solace of high country windsong after a year in Vietnam, settling in to the old cabin where I had been conceived. What few people crossed that road in those days were mostly neighbors, an occasional old-time logger reminiscing, or the increasingly frequent motorcycles that I grew accustomed to chasing off. Nearly everyone was met at the gate above the cabin, a barrier to a spur road that ran through Boise Cascade and BLM land to our upper place. All the conversations were friendly, backcountry jawboning, except for the motorcyclists. The dirt bikers had the attitude that, if they could get there, they had an absolute right to ride wherever they wanted. Fear of fire and proof of erosion led me to confront them at every opportunity.

In those days I'd string a wire across the road or pile brush and 20-inch logs to stop the bikes. We put up signs saying "Private Property" and "No Motorcycles." Still they came.

In the summer of 1976, a state forestry work crew came through to cut back growth along the road, prompting research into the road's status. There was no public dedication, no recorded easements, and apparently, no basis for prescriptive easements. An inquiry to state forestry determined that the work had been done to keep the road open for emergency vehicles, primarily fire fighting crews.

I left the land in 1983 and returned in 1999. Neighbors still used the road on rare occasions, but the dirt bikers had become brazen and the most frequent other traffic was midnight carousers. During my absence a maple tree near the road had been cut down and the burl stolen. Shortly after my return another maple, right next to the road, was taken for its burl, the firewood gone as well.

Clearly it was time to research the applicable law and take action to protect our property. The Oregon legislature provides an excellent reference at www.leg.state.or.us/ors/105.html, the section that deals with public use of land. I found that ORS 105.700 spoke directly to my situation (see sidebar).

I set about putting up signs at each end of the road, and various points in-between, stating "Private Property, No Motorcycles" and others along the road reading "Private Property, No Taking of Any Kind."

Beset by burl thieves, motorcycles and midnight carousers scattering their beer bottles across our land; fearing fire, erosion and stray bullets from hunters with buck fever, we've kept the road closed. Signage alone doesn't do the trick, but so far we haven't invested in gates. Our closure consists of a single strand of aluminum wire threaded through "Road Closed" signs. Not fancy, but mostly effective. When the neighbors complained, I told them they were welcome to use the road, provided they put the wires up at either end when they passed. So far, none of them have come through.

Every landowner has a different situation, whether you're dealing with a BLM reciprocal agreement or a road with outdated historical use, like ours. What we all have in common is a desire to protect our lands. To do that, the landowner must first research the situation, determine what easements or restrictions exist, then set about posting the signs and making the closures that are necessary.

Jack Duggan lives on 373 acres near the headwaters of Forest Creek in southern Oregon's Applegate Valley. The land is an 1872 homestead that is now a family trust. Jack holds a bachelor's degree in communications and a technical degree in forestry. He can be reached via email at shanachie@rvi.net or by mail at P.O. Box 524, Jacksonville, OR 97530.

Public Use of Lane

ORS 105.700:

"a) For land through which the public has no right of way, the landowner or agent must place a notice at each outer gate and normal point of access to the land, including both sides of a body of water that crosses the land wherever the body of water intersects an outer boundary line. The notice must be placed on a post, structure or natural object in the form of a sign or a blaze of paint. If a blaze of paint is used, it must consist of at least 50 square inches of fluorescent orange paint, except that when metal fence posts are used, approximately the top six inches of the fence post must be painted. If a sign is used, the sign:

(A) Must be no smaller than eight inches in height and 11 inches in width;

(B) Must contain the words "Closed to Entry" or words to that effect in letters no less than one inch in height; and

(C) Must display the name, business address and phone number, if any, of the landowner or agent of the landowner."

The statute also states that the road must remain accessible for emergency vehicles. It also provides remedies in the form of civil and criminal penalties, $1,000 each for each violation.

ORS 105 also provides protections for landowners that choose to open their lands for recreational purposes (hunting, off-road vehicles, etc.).

Tips for Signing Open Land