 |
| Cattle belonging to Fred Messerle graze and watch workers on the Coaledo Ranch south of Coos Bay, where methane drilling is going on 24 hours a day, seven days a week. According to Messerle, the cattle are not affected by the ongoing drilling operations in the pasture. World Photos by Madeline Steege |
Gas prospectors tap potential for wealth, land controversy - Third of three parts
By Christopher Arns, Staff Writer
Saturday, February 5, 2005 9:31 AM PST
While it's no sure thing coalbed methane will ever flow from Coos County wells, production could bring benefits - and challenges - to the county.
Coquille's Methane Energy Corporation, a subsidiary of Colorado-based Torrent Energy, is currently testing coal samples from holes drilled south of Coos Bay and hopes to pinpoint the company's exact coalbed methane holdings, estimated to be more than 750 billion cubic feet.
Should that amount exist, as many as 300 natural gas wells could be constructed among county hills. At an estimated daily output of 200,000 to 300,000 cubic feet, sold to wholesalers at $3 to $4 dollars per 1,000 feet, company revenue could ring up at approximately $1 million per day.
How much would wind up in Coos County's pocket? Property owners who lease their mineral rights to Methane Energy - such as Coos County - would get an eighth of the company's revenue. Methane Energy also plans to hire locals and establish relationships with county businesses, said company officials.
"Our whole approach, because this is our only project, is we want to make sure the community gets involved with this project as much as we can," said Torrent Energy CEO Mark Gustafson.
But some members of the community see the company's impact as more bane than blessing. They're worried Methane Energy's oil and gas leases might allow drilling on private property or wreak havoc on local ecosystems.
Some landowners would like to buy back mineral rights, which are considered separate from surface-owned rights, to keep drilling from happening on their property. But according to some, the county turned a deaf ear after foreclosing on local landowners' mineral rights before selling out to Methane Energy.
"How can they come here and take the mineral rights without notifying you?" said Coaledo property owner Dennis Herold. "Why can't I have the option of buying the mineral rights with my property?"
County Assessor Bob Main said any county foreclosure would be public if the owner failed to pay his or her property taxes.
"When properties are foreclosed on, they're always published in the paper," said Main.
For other communities in the western United States, the environmental impact also has weighed heavily. Losing scenery and habitat for a diminishing resource "isn't worth the trade off," said Joanna Prokup, New Mexico secretary of energy, minerals and natural resources.
Monetary rewards
Coal bed methane is certainly a hot commodity, accounting for 10 percent of a growing U.S. natural energy market. States including Montana, Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming have benefited from the nation's coal bed methane boom, and their revenues often swell into the billions. Wyoming, home to a good chunk of the Powder River Basin, reported 2003 returns of $1.25 billion in CBM production, according to estimates from the state's Department of Revenue.
Wyoming's counties have joined in the haul. Take Sheridan County: Nestled near the state's northern border, the area is smack-dab in the Powder River Basin, one of the nation's most productive natural gas regions. Out of about 17,000 gas wells in the basin, more than 2,600 gas wells sprout from the arid Sheridan County plains - giving the county plenty of CBM-derived income.
That means the county's rolls are flush from rising land values. In 2000, when the area's methane production was just taking off, Sheridan County's assessed value was about $145 million. Four years later, that number has soared to $384 million - and about 48 percent is related to coal bed methane, said Sheridan County assessor Kenneth Kerns.
Coal bed methane revenue in Wyoming breaks down like this: mineral rights-holders garner a negotiated royalty (usually about 12.5 percent). The state takes a 6 percent severance tax, which is then redistributed to all of Wyoming's counties.
Then the county gets its share. Last year, Sheridan County earned approximately $20 million in coal bed methane property taxes, funds that were doled out to county schools, said Kerns. The county's general fund pulled in about $4.6 million.
Employment also noticed a nudge from coal bed methane activity. In the fourth quarter, 2000, the county had 44 jobs in the mining sector. Compare that to same period in 2003, when Sheridan added 119 more jobs, and the county's total mining-related jobs has grown to 163.
CBM's challenges
Revenues aside, coal bed methane production sometimes has controversial impacts within communities. Even in Sheridan County, where the industry has brought jobs and revenue, there have been problems.
Terry Cram, Sheridan County commissioner, said county roads have been torn to pieces by heavy drilling trucks, which are about the size of logging rigs. The county didn't have the funds to fix the roads until coal bed methane revenue finally kicked in four years later, he said.
"We're able to work out some voluntary agreements where they'll use road graders to help roads," said Cram, who was elected in November. "But there's little we can do to force them to do anything."
But coal bed drilling has given rise to other concerns, especially with wastewater. Since underground coal deposits are saturated, methane remains trapped until the water can be released. This wastewater spurts out at rates of 5 to 20 gallons per second. Multiply that by 300, the active amount of production wells Methane Energy hopes to build, and then figure in an entire day's work. That's a whole lot of water.
Where does it all go? Most companies build evaporation ponds or reinject the water into deeper seams. But both methods have critics.
Some experts say the water leaches back into the ground because companies don't properly line their evaporation pools. That water, which can sometimes have a high saline content, then seeps into local rivers and streams.
Where the water goes
Dr. Jim Gore, professor and chairman at the University of South Florida's Environmental Science, Policy, and Geography Program, is concerned increased water flow from CBM production might destroy river habitats. Gore, who did his postdoctoral work in the Powder River Basin, set up several computer models to better predict what happens if CBM wastewater gets into streams.
The results were sobering, Gore said. At worst, the increased flows wash away smaller organisms like the Western silvery minnow, which is endangered. But even less-drastic scemarios show changes for river habitats.
"We can determine, according to the model, that we'll get as much as 150-plus consecutive days of no habitat, which means that for almost half the year (the minnow) is not able to find any place to live in the system," said Gore, speaking from Florida in a phone interview.
How could Coos County rivers be affected? Gore said while increased flows affect food sources, higher water volume also churns up river gravel beds and distrupt spawning sites - which could directly affect area salmon.
But if wastewater doesn't go into evaporation pools, companies must inject the water deep underground, sometimes disturbing natural aquifiers. Some homeowners have seen new springs bubble up as many as nine miles away from drilling sites after companies disposed of the wastewater.
Dan Randolph, oil and gas organizer with the San Juan Citizens Alliance, said residents near Durango, Colo., also found trees and plants killed by extremely hot underground wells.
"There was an increase both in flow and temperature in areas that hadn't had a spring under them, and suddenly there was a spring," said Randolph.
Not wanted
Concerns about water and habitat have given rise to several opposition groups around the West, including Randolph's Durango-based group, the San Juan Citizens Alliance. Others include New Mexico's Commission for the Valle Vidal and the Colorado-based Oil and Gas Accountability Project.
Some group members charge coal bed methane drilling destroys public lands. Jim O'Donnell, outreach coordinator for the Commission for the Valle Vidal, once worked as an archeologist for oil companies such as Enron during the 1990s. During that time, O'Donnell said he witnessed severe environmental destruction from coal bed drilling.
"When you look at the landscape, you're looking at an industrial landscape," said O'Donnell, who remembers seeing dead livestock and wildlife in fields, killed he said from different gases released from the well sites. "Now there's roads and pipelines. You're in the wild, because you're miles away from any town, but you feel like you're in an industrial zone."
While working for the Commission for the Valle Vidal, O'Donnell opposed drilling by El Paso Corporation, a Texas-based oil and gas concern. The company wanted to drill in the Valle Vidal, an area in northwestern New New Mexico prized for both its scenic value and large herds of elk, protected by the U.S. Forest Service. The plan drew fire from Democratic New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson and Joanna Prokup, New Mexico Secretary of Energy, Minerals and Natural Resources.
Prokup, a Republican and former division chief at the state's Department of Game and Fish, remembers flying over lands north of the Valle Vidal, near a Colorado ranch owned by Ted Turner, and noting the evident changes coal bed methane drilling had wrought on the landscape.
"The visual impact and the impact on the habitat are tremendously evident," said Prokup. "There are people beginning to say they are indeed impacting movement of elk on the ranch due to the drilling."
Like Oregon, which has a reputation as an outdoor recreation haven, New Mexico has scenic areas that depend on tourism. The secretary had the following advice when asked how Oregonians might balance protection of wild lands with coal bed methane production in the near future.
"No. 1, especially in terms of public lands, but it also applies to private lands, think of the long term use and gains," Prokup said. "When you're negotiating with potential lessees, whether on private, county, city or state lands, push for stipulations that minimize surface impact."
To its credit, Methane Energy has pledged a clean operation, said company officials. President Steve Pappajohn even named the area's scenic beauty as a reason he has continued working in Coos County - something he'd like to maintain, even as the company develops production.
"We have a heritage in our industry in decades past of not always having operators do that," said Pappajohn. "We carry part of that wherever we go and we try to go out of our way to do whatever we can (to shed that reputation)." |