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Sight Lines
Will Radnor Lake become a big back yard?
By Galyn Glick
It is a typical
fall Sunday at Radnor Lake State Natural Area.
The sky is crisp
and blue, the air is fresh after weekend rains,
and the trees
are just beginning to turn. Some leaves have
already fallen
on the trails, rustling as chipmunks scurry over
them . Birds
call to one another from the branches of oaks,
hackberries
and tulip poplars.
Somewhere, in
one of the hollows, a woodpecker, hunting for
insects, jackhammers
a tree. Then, for a moment, all sounds are
drowned out
as a biplane splutters overhead, violating FAA
regulations
that protect the airspace above natural areas.
Most of the walkers
and hikers around the lake don't notice the intrusion.
The sound of
an airplane is a routine part of life, a life that most of the
6,500 people
in the park on this day have come to expect.
A part of the
state park system, Radnor Lake is a so-called "protected
area." Approximately
1,000 acres of the "fragile forest" are under the
state's protection.
Visitors to Radnor Lake may not pick the flowers,
wander off the
trails, rappel down the hil lsides, or fish for anything in the
lake itself.
Nevertheless, Radnor Lake is endangered. The fear, however,
does not involve
cutting down trees, polluting streams or trampling over
flowers. What
is in danger is, quite simply, the view.
Country singer
Eddy Arnold, who lives near Radnor Lake, recently sold a
portion of his
property to a Chicago-based development firm, McCohen
Development.
McCohen, in turn, made plans to transform the property
into "High Ridge,"
a 50-acre subdivision cons isting of lots of
approximately
one acre each. Prices for the lots are expected to climb into
the $140,000
range, with the homes themselves priced in the
$400,000-$600,000
range.
The property
being developed faces Granny White Pike and runs parallel
to Oman Road.
However, it is the part of the property that sits on the high
ridge and runs
along the back of the new real estate development that has
Radnor Lake
regulars concerned. T he edge of the development is only a
stone's throw
from South Cove Trail, one of the most scenic hikes in the
park.
South Cove Trail
is probably Radnor's most isolated path. Numerous
environmentalists,
not to mention the everyday park users who have a
rabid attachment
to Radnor Lake are concerned about the fate of the
South Cove Trail,
a 1.2-mile loop that rambles off from the less hilly South
Lake Trail.
Altogether, the total length of a hike on the South Lake Trial,
in conjunction
with the South Cove Trail loop, is 2.7 miles.
The trail, which
is less traveled than other trails in the park, is as rough as
a dry creek
bed. The path isn't covered with pine needles or chipped
Christmas trees
to protect it from erosion, and, in some parts, it is almost
washed out.
Here and there, park rangers have attached orange plastic
surveyor's strips
to tree limbs and bushes to mark areas that need shoring
up.
Other strips, other plans
At the crest
of the ridge, other strips pink ones are tied to stakes. The
stakes are planted
in a pattern and mark the property line for the High
Ridge development.
In some places, the strips, and the line they form,
come within
a mere 10 feet of the South Cove Trail.
Some hikers fear
that if the subdivision is built, their beloved South Cove
Trail will be
changed forever. But developers insist otherwise.
"The topography
along Radnor Lake precludes any building right next to
the trail,"
says Howard Weiner, a representative of McCohen
Development.
"What we have suggested is that we will preclude building
right up to
the trail. We expect all of the homes to be no more than
midway up that
hill. The cost of putting up a foundation on that land would
be prohibitive
to most homeowners, and we will supplement that with a
prohibitive
clause."
Nevertheless,
some Radnor regulars maintain that, whether the houses are
10 feet or 200
feet away from the trail, the sense of isolation, of being in
the wilderness,
will be lost. They argue that protecting the view is as
important as
protecting the lake itself. In 1993 a similar argument helped
prevent Cellular
One from building a tower on a hill adjacent to the
Radnor Natural
Area.
Cellular One
had planned to build a $1 million cellular phone tower
on a hill, just
off Oman Road, near Vanderbilt's Dyer Observatory. At the
time, Becky
Meagher, a Friends of Radnor Lake board member, told the
Scene that "the
silver lining to this issue, if there is one, is [that] it's waking
people up to
the fact that Radnor still can be harmed." Public outcry over
the potential
eyesore forced the company to change its plans, and the
tower was never
built.
Meagher says
that the High Ridge subdivision is a reminder that the lake
is still endangered.
"You go to Radnor Lake to get away from it all," she
says. If the
property is developed, she insists, "you would see directly into
someone's backyard.
Housing d evelopments squeeze the core and affect
the boundaries
of the area. Deer and other animals don't understand
boundaries,
so you'll see more of them getting killed."
Already, deer
routinely forage for food on lawns near the property. For
the first time
in 15 years, says a park ranger, a pet dog recently killed a
deer. The ranger
predicts that such incidents will be more common, once
homeowners move
into High Ridge.
Mike Carlton,
manager of Radnor Lake, says that, although the subdivision
could pose problems,
he doesn't see the development as a crisis for the
natural area.
"It's not a watershed issue for Radnor Lake," he says. "But it
is a management
issue. It would affect the trails, and it might be a
watershed issue
for Otter Creek [which feeds into Radnor Lake]."
Carlton says
that the Nature Conservancy, a nationwide organization
dedicated to
protecting wilderness areas, is involved in discussions with
the developer.
If there's a way the Conservancy can help, he says, he's
sure they will.
But at least one source at the Conservancy expressed fears
as to whether
there is anything that can be done. The property has been
sold and is
not considered a environmental threat to the lake. Meanwhile,
work has already
started at the development. Bulldozers have scraped
away trees,
and culverts have been dug.
What kind of environmentalism?
In an odd way,
the concern over the High Ridge development mirrors the
crisis that
gave birth to the Radnor Lake Natural Area in 1971.
The drive to
protect the area began when a developer obtained rights to
build condominiums
on the lake. Citizens rallied to save the area and
succeeded in
convincing the government to intervene. Soon, Radnor Lake
was named Tennessee's
first State Natural Area.
Although the
85-acre lake was originally built by L&N railroad to maintain
its rail yards
in 1914, Radnor and the area surrounding it had been
maintained in
pristine condition. "Words are no match for such sensuous
impressions,"
John Egerton wrote in the introduction to John Netherton's
Radnor Lake:
Nashville's Wal-den. "That story of Radnor Lake, the
story of its
mystery and its majesty, is best received through the
experience of
going there in person."
Hundreds of thousands
of visitors have taken Egerton's advice. Each year
the natural
beauty of the lake attracts more than 900,000 people to its
trails. It's
no wonder, then, that people would want to live in such
idyllic surroundings.
With careful planning, developers say, the
construction
won't affect the people who come to Radnor Lake to get
away from it
all.
None of the lots
at High Ridge has been sold yet, and the threat of upscale
housing approximately
200 feet from South Cove Trail has failed to
produce any
concrete action to halt the development. Becky Meagher
protests that
the area's "viewscape" will be affected, but she is frank in
acknowledging
that Friends of Radnor Lake isn't doing enough to protect
the area.
Part of the problem,
simply, is money. While Friends of Radnor Lake, the
citizen-based
group that raises money to protect the area, has $100,000 in
the bank from
a fundraiser at Hard Rock Cafe's opening in 1994, the
money can't
buy very much. "It's just sitting there in the bank," Meagher
says. "The money's
not enough to buy property, but it is enough to get
some organization
[in] there." Meanwhile, time marches on, and the
property keeps
getting more and more valuable as development pressures
increase.
All of Radnor
Lake's champions acknowledge that the ideal solution would
be for the natural
area to include more of the land that surrounds it. But
with land costs
so high, acquisition becomes almost impossible. "There are
three or four
tracts that we'd like to purchase," says Carlton. But he fears
that, if Friends
of Radnor Lake were successful in a widely publicized
fund drive,
landowners might raise prices even higher. "You don't want
people to think
you have deep pockets, because we don't," Carlton says.
McCohen's Howard
Weiner argues that, since land prices are prohibitive,
Radnor Lake
should not concentrate on land acquisition. "Rather than
have Radnor
use their precious funds for buying land," says Weiner, "they
should take
the time to talk to us and help us work out a way to situate the
houses in such
a way that they don't have an impact on the trail. That
way, they'd
have the best of both worlds." Such cooperation, Weiner says,
would result
in "a win-win situation." His company, he insists, is "ope n to
anything."