Ron C. Judd / Times staff columnist
New parking pass just isn't the ticket

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The bad: It's not universal.

Which is too bad, because the bureaucrats who have become so adept at charging we the people, on a daily basis, to tread upon land we already own had worked us longtime skeptics into something of a box.

After years of refusing to give up on the principle that public lands should be free and available to the public, a couple of years ago I finally relented, to a point, offering up this compromise position: Simplify the fee process, allowing an intrepid Northwest adventurer to buy a single annual pass, instead of as many as seven, and our energy spent not only resisting the fees, but urging citizen action against them, would turn to tepid support for the entire concept.

For the past year, land-use bureaucrats have worked toward just such a goal.

The product of their work, the new "Washington & Oregon Recreation Pass," available later this month at federal offices, does have some selling points.

It's basically a glorified version of the federal Golden Eagle pass, which, for $65, already covers day-use fees at Northwest national parks, Forest Service day-use sites and trailheads, Fish & Wildlife refuges and other federal sites. For an additional $20, you get a doohickey to hang your Golden Eagle pass from your rear-view mirror, denoting your extra $20 donation.

What does the extra $20 buy?

Access to a handful of Corps of Engineers sites. Parking at all 26 Oregon State Parks that charge day-use parking fees. And parking at participating Washington State Parks doing the same.

Participating?

Check the list: Alta Lake, Beacon Rock, Bogachiel, Conconully, Curlew Lake, Dosewallips, Federation Forest, Iron Horse — Easton, Lake Easton, Lake Wenatchee, Lewis and Clark Trail, Olallie, Osoyoos Lake, Pearrygin Lake, Peshastin Pinnacles, Rasar, Rockport, Schafer, Sequim Bay and Wallace Falls.
 
Don't see the state park you frequent the most on the list? Join the club. The winnowing of Washington State Parks' 120 day-use fee areas to a paltry 20 was done on purpose by state officials, who feared the new pass would cut into what's turning out to be a fairly lucrative day-use fee kitty.

Money's the key

It's all about wealth distribution. For each new pass sold, the federal agency that sells it takes the $65 it would have made off a Golden Eagle Pass sale. The extra $20 is split by the Corps and Washington and Oregon state parks.

Do the math: If you're Washington State Parks, you're never going to sell what amounts to a full-access annual pass — now selling for 50 bucks — for less than $10.

State Parks, hearing the cry for a universal pass, decided to participate as an experiment, explains spokeswoman Virginia Painter. The 20 parks it offered up were some — but not all — of those located near federal land-use "gateway" areas. The idea being that a person hiking in, say, the Gifford Pinchot National Forest wouldn't have to pay an additional fee to stop for lunch at Beacon Rock State Park.

That makes sense, to a point. But it's the kind of logic that renders this pass useless as a real means of reducing not only cost, but confusion among recreationists.

Cost versus hassle

I applaud land managers' efforts to make user fees — abhorrent as they are to some — something their customers can learn to live with. But they've once again managed to shoot themselves in the wallet here, refusing to risk a little parking revenue to make what could be a lot more.

Look: Having spent years in this space detailing Washington State Parks' annual budget-shafting in Olympia, I understand that the agency not only wants, but now depends upon, the $4 million to $5 million it collects in annual parking fees.

And nobody can fault the bankrupt feds for clinging to every dime.

But they've entirely missed the point about most peoples' biggest fee beefs: The cost rankles, sure. But the hassle is what makes them write their members in Congress.

What if both sides had looked at this as a business venture?

What if they both lowered annual-pass prices on the bet that the upside — a new, more convenient, combined pass that consumers saw as a good deal would create more pass sales and revenue, not less?

Crossing the $100 barrier probably seemed risky to these folks. But what if they sold a truly universal pass for, say, $110 — one that would save us a few bucks off the current combined-pass price and spare the hassle of buying multiple passes?

Instead, we're left with yet another flawed pass that opens some doors, but not all. Which, we can safely predict already, will prove to be its demise, before the first one goes out the door. It might be worth buying in Oregon, where it approaches super-pass status. But not here, where it will only add to the confusion.

Keep it simple!

To see just how well this has simplified the Northwest user-fee structure, point your browser to (www.naturenw.org), the Nature of the Northwest Web site that will begin selling the passes March 18. There, you will find a colorful new chart laying out all your modern-day pass options, including the new pass.

It's a spreadsheet, for Pete's sake!

We don't want to bury this concept for good. And we're encouraged that organizers refer to it as a work in progress. But is this really the best we can do?

This permit deserves its own name. We'll offer up the obvious one here:

Call it the Asterisk Pass. And go back to the drawing board.

Ron C. Judd's Trail Mix column appears here every Thursday. Contact him at: 206-464-8280 or rjudd@seattletimes.com

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