Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, March 8, 1995 TAG: 9503080096
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CATHRYN MCCUE AND JAN VERTEFEUILLE STAFF WRITERS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Growth is not going away. Nor, most people agree, should it.
So what can be done to accommodate our new neighbors without sacrificing what Western Virginians like best about their home?
Many communities in Virginia and other parts of the country are experimenting with innovative planning, zoning, taxation and other tools to guide growth so it doesn't come back to haunt them. And some are achieving success.
In Boulder, Colo., residents have dedicated part of their sales tax to buy up land around the perimeter of the city for open space.
In the Hudson Valley of New York, farmers are working with New York City officials to preserve the valley's farmland, which is the watershed for the city's drinking water.
Montgomery County, Md., has confined development to just north of Washington, D.C., designating its remaining farmland an ``agricultural reserve'' allowing no more than one house per 25 acres.
A growing number of communities, such as East Hampton, N.Y., and Hopkinton, Mass., require cluster development in rural areas, while others allow higher densities if developers cluster their buildings.
Closer to home, Caroline County, just south of Fredericksburg, is joining the cluster bandwagon, and Clarke County, near Winchester, has devised sliding-scale zoning that metes out density based on parcel size and location. Augusta County has revised its comprehensive plan to severely limit development on what is now farmland.
And right here at home, in the Roanoke and New River valleys, some localities and citizen groups are thinking ahead.
Roanoke County has begun a ``visioning'' process, bringing together a cross section of residents to brainstorm what they want for their county in years to come. The county last fall also approved a special zoning area along the Roanoke River to protect water quality; other river localities are reviewing the idea.
Several civic groups and public planners in the Roanoke Valley are taking steps toward creating greenways - corridors of grass, trees and walking or bicycling paths that would link the river, parks and other recreation areas. And a two-state coalition is looking at ways to protect the views from the Blue Ridge Parkway as development encroaches.
Blacksburg may dub its Toms Creek basin - a large, mostly undeveloped area in the northwest corner - a ``conservation development'' zone. The move is bound to be controversial, concedes council member Waldon Kerns, who heads up a task force on the revision.
``If we can explain what we're trying to do, then it will have a high level of acceptance,'' he says. What they're trying to do is allow growth; maintain open space, water quality and other natural resources; and cut down on infrastructure costs.
The basin's agricultural zoning now allows one unit per acre. Kerns says the new zoning, still in the idea phase, would leave landowners with that degree of development, but offer incentives to ``group'' the development.
``I'm very careful not to say cluster,'' Kerns says. ``Clustering is a bad word in Blacksburg.'' The town tried a cluster ordinance in 1986, which ended in a bitter battle when a group of developers proposed the Deer Run subdivision. The town said it didn't provide the required amount of open space and turned it down. The developers sued; although the Virginia Supreme Court eventually ruled in Blacksburg's favor, the town repealed the controversial ordinance.
In Southwest Virginia, such planning ventures seem to lose one step for every two steps forward. Montgomery County worked for several years on an open-space plan, which provided mostly volunteer measures and development techniques that would preserve rural land. But the plan, an amendment to the county's comprehensive plan, met a quick death under pressure from landowners who said it controlled the use of their property. And although Roanoke County passed the river corridor zone, it was watered down from its original version that would have protected a much wider strip of land along its banks.
One local planner described the job as ``plan for the worst, and hope for the best.'' A fitting creed for the profession, for there are more forces shaping a community's future than a slide rule and imaginative thinking.
``It takes a very alert and educated citizenry, and it also calls for a degree of political leadership, which is not always available,'' says Richard Collins, director of the University of Virginia's Institute for Environmental Negotiation.
Given our terrain, there's only so much developable land, yet much of that is the very farmland and open space that we cherish. We all have a stake in what happens to it, although some voices are louder than others - the voices of consumers, developers and politicians.
But others are starting to sound off. At public hearings and letters to the editor, they decry ``runaway'' growth. They point to spots like the U.S. 460/Virginia 114 corridor in Montgomery County - an orchard just 10 years ago, now crammed with discount stores, restaurants and traffic - and caution that we need better planning, before we end up a mini-Northern Virginia.
Granted, Southwest Virginia's population growth is slow compared with the ``urban corridor'' of Northern Virginia, Richmond and Tidewater. Therefore, some would say, we have nothing to worry about. But to have high-quality development, residents must begin planning now.
``We're entering a time when a serious response to those pressures is being mounted by people who think the social, economic and political [consequences] are more than we can bear,'' UVa's Collins says. ``If the political will and community support is present, growth can be managed very effectively. There are adequate legal powers to take responsibility for your growth.''
Steve Fisher, a political science professor at Emory & Henry College, agrees. Rural Virginia lacks a vocal, grass-roots group to address planning and environmental issues. People strongly believe ``you can't stop progress, you can't fight the government,'' he says.
But Fisher thinks that could be changing. He sees the beginnings of a populist movement in rural Virginia, but it usually takes the loss of an industry, a proposed landfill or other perceived threat to bring people together initially.
``All you have to do is win once or twice, even at a small level, to realize you can have an impact,'' Fisher says.
People challenging development must be able to speak the language of economic development and know the issues, he says. After all, he says, ``Who's going to be against jobs?''
Reinventing the wheel
Growth, driven by the fast-paced market economy, often catches communities off guard. When it hits, they struggle with the problem anew, rarely looking to see what other places have gone through.
``Why don't they learn from what happened before?'' asks Collins, who runs the UVa environmental center. ``In part, because the pressures in these situations have to play themselves out. They almost have to experience the pain, experience the confusion, see the loss, before they can develop the political will. You have to feel it for yourself.''
We may be feeling a pinch, but not real pain, yet. Randi Lemmon, a professional planner and town manager for Pembroke in Giles County, says Southwest Virginia can learn from the mistakes and successes of areas that have been through the boom cycle.
Allowing growth and preserving rural character don't have to be mutually exclusive, Lemmon argues. Any combination of things, like grouping houses and leaving the rest as farmland or open space, smaller lot sizes, neighborhood septic systems rather than one-per-house, and flexible road designs will lessen problems associated with urban sprawl and enhance our quality of life.
``You get out in the hinterlands, and people don't know better,'' Lemmon says. ``It can fly down here; all it takes is the first person doing it. The problem is, folks have never seen it.''
For Jeff Burdett, Bedford County's community planning director, rural quality of life means ``wide-open spaces, beautiful views, not a lot of concrete and roofs when you look out, cheap land, a slower pace.''
And he, too, thinks rural growth can happen without threatening those qualities.
``I don't want to see street lights, I don't want to see sidewalks, I don't want to see a ton of neighbors around me,'' says Burdett, who lives in a rural farming community. ``If you can develop it so the rural character is still there, then, hey, go for it. And there are ways to do that.''
Planners and activists and governments can design all they want, developers say, but people are happily buying look-alike houses in cookie-cutter subdivisions. Contractors are satisfying that demand by building more and sprawling farther and farther out, and cheap land is providing an incentive.
``I don't think they're looking at the long term,'' says Bob Fetzer, president of Roanoke Valley Regional Homebuilders. ``We're very, very conservative. ... On the other hand, we have a lot of available land, and we take that for granted.''
Most of us still share the American dream: A home in the suburbs with an attached garage, a little land and some neighbors, but not too close. Look-alike communities of the '70s and '80s still sell in the '90s. ``You can drive around all day and take pictures of them,'' Fetzer says. ``But they're selling, and that's the bottom line.''
It may be time to update the American dream, says Randall Arendt, a nationally renowned planner who spends much of his time spreading the ``conservation development'' gospel at homebuilders' and local government meetings throughout the country.
``It's just a bunch of subdivided, make-believe farms,'' he says of rural subdivisions.
Large-lot rural developments, or ``farmettes,'' are too small to farm and too big to mow. ``You become a slave to your property. I call it `death in the afternoon.'''
Developers who think that's what people want are missing the boat, Arendt says. The majority of new subdivision dwellers are retirees, young marrieds and single parents who don't have the time or energy to maintain a chunk of land.
Still, they want to see open space, or at least be near it. A recent study showed that most people who pay big bucks to live near a golf course development don't golf. They just want the open space, Arendt says. They can't get it in normal subdivisions.
Some studies show that among the economic benefits, open-space developments tend to increase land value in the area; cost less to develop; decrease cost of public services; improve bond ratings for local governments that promote such subdivisions; and protect flood plains, which decrease the chance of flooding.
Not everyone worries about the style of development; they're more concerned about the pace.
``One word to describe what good growth would be, the one I would choose, would be orderly,'' says Roanoke County Supervisor Bob Johnson. ``Then you can fit it into any category. If it's orderly, you can afford it, it's of quality and not leapfrog development.''
by CNB