In the Appalachian region of  New York where I live we’re experiencing a boom in natural gas drilling. There is a strata of rock known as Marcellus shale. When the shale is drilled into horizontally and massive amounts of water are pumped in, natural gas is released. There is plenty of natural gas in them there rocks, and it will decrease our dependence on foreign oil, blah, blah, blah. Wikipedia has a very informative article about the Marcellas shale here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcellus_Formation.   

I live 10 miles south of Ithaca halfway up a hillside at about 1000ft surrounded by forest and wetlands. Flora and fauna are abundant and the neighbors are at a respectable distance. This is one of the decreasing number of beautiful spots in the USA still affordable to working class people and that is why I’ve been here since the late 60s.

The “gas people” have been canvassing the area with mineral rights contracts. These rights allows them access and drilling rights for a specified amount for time, roughly an aeon.

A couple years ago lingering out by the swamp I was surprised to hear the sound of people approaching. At this point I’ve been tromping through the woods for twenty years and have met fellow humans exactly once. Turns out it’s four humans, an elderly couple – that is, older than me – who own the thousands of acres of undeveloped hillside that abuts my own meager 1.6 acres, their 30-something son and his wife.

The old folks are real characters, lived here forever, can tell me where these wild berries came from, when that stone wall was built. The dude wears a beret and the lady is in bonnet and barn boots. They’ve decided it’s time to sign over the land to their son, who’s returned to the area. They’re out here walking the nearby borders of the land to show the kids what’s what. The kids are pissing and moaning about thorns and thistles, mud and poison ivy; their attention can hardly be diverted to fulfill their end of introductions and shake my hand.

Long story short, my new neighbors outdoor activities seem to be limited to all-terain four wheelers and bulldozers and there are now no tresspassing signs everywhere and once deep in the woods I came across a sign that declared “No Dog Walking”.

So this Marcellus shale thing is looming and a map is released that shows land leases which have been signed in the tri-county area. Sure enough, those thousands of acres of undeveloped hillside have been leased to some natural gas interest.

Well, maybe the terrain is so forbidding and there is so much other land available that the gas people will never exercise their drilling option, but it’s more likely that someday they will. The trucks will roll in, timbers will fall, roughneck camps set up, and twenty four hour a day drilling will begin. Massive amounts of additive laced water is pumped into the aquifer, wildlife habitat disappears, and property values plummet. Everybody’s quality of life goes in the toilet; the sole exception being the landowners who cared so little about the habitat that they were willing to sacrifice it forever. With their newfound wealth, they’ll be able to expand their holdings and influence, and, perhaps, purchase vacation property in some fabulous location which none of their neighbors can afford, but all of whom used to live in.

I’m predicting that I’ll spend the final quarter of my life fighting the gas people. I already had my civil rights period, my end the war in Vietnam period, and my labor organizing period, so I know how it’s done and what to expect. There are worse ways to go out, I just wish I possessed a shred of optimism.

Ah, capitalism: the unscrupulous get rich and everybody else gets screwed.