Preservation Program Reaps Mixed Harvest After 20 Years -- Saving Farmland Was Easier Than Saving Farming

Perhaps the cake should have been bittersweet today when King County celebrated the 20th anniversary of its Farmland Preservation Program.

Back in 1979, the county got national recognition for starting the program, which paid farmers $60 million to surrender their rights to develop their land. It preserved 13,000 acres of farmland, creating a green crescent around Seattle and a permanent foundation for the county's agricultural industry.

But amid the celebration, some trends are emerging that raise questions about whether the program really will save farming, or just preserve plots of open space for suburbanites to enjoy.

One goal of the program was to help keep farmland affordable for farmers by removing the incentive to sell to developers. But prices for preserved farms have been rising sharply, and some are selling for up to $50,000 per acre - nearly 50 times the state average for farmland.

While the program has kept major development off preserved farms, the rate of home construction on those farms tripled last year, under exceptions sought by farmers when they joined the program. And some of those homes are being marketed as million-dollar estates.

There also is a growing push to use preserved farmland for nonagricultural uses such as soccer fields.

Meanwhile, a new generation of farmers and immigrants is reviving agriculture, raising organic produce, flowers and other nontraditional crops on defunct dairies and ranches.

But newcomers are having trouble finding affordable land close to the restaurants and urban consumers they sell to, even though that was what the county was supposed to preserve.

Frank Genzale, who runs one of the oldest produce stalls at Pike Place Market, found it would cost around $1 million to relocate his Burien farm that's being displaced by the new runway at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.

"How long is it going to take to make that $1 million when you're selling spinach for 50 cents a bundle, carrots for $1 a bunch? And you've got to hire people," he said. "It's basically impossible to start a farm here."

One factor is the new wealth that's driving up the price of premium real estate in the area.

Two of the farm program's showcase properties, Wallace Farms near Redmond and Magnolia Dairy in Bothell - both a short commute to Microsoft - are for sale at $3 million and $4 million.

County farm-program managers say the recent surge of residential activity is an aberration. They say the program has succeeded even if preserved farms end up too expensive for farmers.

"The Farmland Preservation Program was intended to preserve the farmland resource. It has done that," said Leroy Jones, who manages the program for the county. "Those lands are still there for cultivation. There's nothing in there that requires them to farm."

Jones is one of two county employees who oversees the 13,000 preserved acres that are the cornerstone of farm districts in the Sammamish, Snoqualmie and Green river valleys and the Enumclaw Plateau. That's about a third of the land zoned for agriculture in the county.

King County is losing less farmland than neighboring counties that don't have a preservation program. From 1992 to 1997 - the most recent data available from the federal Census of Agriculture - King County lost 2 percent of its farmland, while Snohomish County lost 18 percent and Pierce County lost 13 percent.

But some of King County's preserved farms might not be what voters envisioned in 1979.

Greg McKenna, who grew up in Seattle and works there for a development company, is raising cows alongside the new home he built last year on 18 acres of preserved farmland in the Green River Valley.

"I wish I'd have done it 10 years ago," said McKenna, who sold his first four cows at auction Saturday. "It's wonderful, it's like stepping back in time. It's like you're in the '40s or something."

McKenna's land was part of a 28-acre farm that Thomas and Joanne Rasmussen bought in 1979, after the longtime owner died.

In 1984, the county's farmland-preservation office offered the Rasmussens $168,525 to never develop the property. They accepted the offer but reserved the right to put two homes on the land.

Joanne Rasmussen, a clerk with the Metropolitan King County Council, said they sold because their kids had grown and weren't there to help around the farm.

They sold McKenna 18 acres for $190,000 - $10,555 per acre - and sold the remaining 10 acres and the original farmhouse for $285,000.

McKenna's house was one of six built on preserved farms last year. The year before, there were none, and during the past decade, construction has averaged just under two per year.

The pastoral lifestyle and roominess that a farm offers help explain why some preserved farms are being marketed as exclusive homesites with million-dollar price tags.

"You don't find that much acreage that close in with views of the lake and Mount Rainier, and it's flat to boot," said real-estate agent Rick Franz, who listed the 80-acre Magnolia Dairy in Bothell at $4 million.

The cows are long gone, and today only a Rottweiler roams the farm near Bothell High School.

The dairy was the last major addition to the Farmland Preservation Program. Owner Gino Gualtieri was paid $1.5 million in December 1986 to never develop the land. His contract with the county allowed up to two homes, one per 40 acres.

But shortly after making the deal, Gualtieri died and the dairy industry entered a decade of low prices that shuttered barns across the county.

Last year, Gualtieri's son, Luigi, put the land up for sale at $4 million, or $2 million per 40-acre homesite.

That works out to $50,000 an acre, nearly 50 times the average price of farmland in Washington state, according to the 1997 Ag Census.

Professional farming is unfeasible on land at that price, according to Steve Evans, an agriculture adviser the county hired two years ago to help farmers. "It just doesn't pencil out unless you can figure out a way to grow gold," he said.

But the price isn't unheard of, among preserved farms.

In the past year, a 5-acre nursery in the Sammamish Valley sold for $398,500, which works out to nearly $80,000 per acre, including the business.

Other cases illustrate the continual pressure to use preserved farmland for other purposes in a county that's increasingly starved for land.

The County Council has allowed temporary mobile homes on some farms, and in 1997 agreed to let the Woodland Park Zoo build a breeding facility on a preserved farm near Enumclaw.

Meanwhile, a youth soccer group is challenging the program because it wants to develop a soccer camp in the Sammamish Valley on a 65-acre farm the county paid $939,610 to preserve in 1986.

Another late addition to the program, 255-acre Mountain Meadows Farm near North Bend, now is a private polo club and horse ranch. Kirkland dentist Raymond Damazo was paid $685,515 in 1986 to preserve what was then a horse-and-cattle farm.

A year later, he sold two lots, one of which was used to build a house assessed at $1.2 million.

Jim Ellis, a Seattle attorney and power broker behind the program, said he knew all along that it would preserve farms but not necessarily farming.

"I never anticipated that anyone was signing in blood that they would be farming forever," he said, "but I did want to hold the open space forever."

In southern King County, farther from Seattle's real-estate frenzy, the issue for preserved farm owners isn't as much the price of farmland as suburban encroachment.

Bob Wallin thought the program would save his Enumclaw dairy for his son and grandson. He was paid $226,470 in 1986 to never develop his 56 acres.

But with increasingly complex environmental rules and overly sensitive newcomers crippling his operation, Wallin now looks enviously toward neighbors selling their land for $250,000 houses.

Whenever Wallin cuts hay from his fields, one neighbor demands that he wash the dust from her car. Others call the sheriff and the humane society whenever a cow dies in the field.

"Theoretically, we should be able to farm forever," Wallin said. "That's what the county told us. They wanted people to come out of Seattle and look at the farms, the green pastures.

"Now, people are coming in here from God knows where, California, Arizona. They don't want the smell. They don't want the noise, the farm equipment on the road, and we can't go anywhere. These dairies that sold the development rights are worth nothing."

Around the bend from Wallin's place, a former sod farm preserved by the county is being divided into 35-acre homesites by the late farmer's family. The last two parcels, including a valuable well and farm buildings, are on the market for $700,000.

But not all of the former Barron sod farm will become residential. One piece was sold to Tom DeSanto, who needed to expand his business, which produces flower and vegetable seedlings for nurseries and home centers.

DeSanto is glad for the farmland-preservation program, and hopes the county expands it someday.

"A lot of the old farmers probably would have sold them off to housing developments if they wouldn't have gone through the buyout," he said. "It's helped keep Enumclaw from overpopulating."

Andrew Stout, 31, a vegetable grower in North Bend, also is glad the county preserved farmland, even if the program hasn't helped him find affordable land.

Stout also wishes the county would expand the program, "not only expand it, but put some specific controls on it - that agricultural land is actually agricultural, for production, it's not just green space."

Meanwhile, Stout is renting 15 acres from a retired North Bend farmer who is developing his remaining land. Stout raises organic salad greens, carrots and other produce that he sells to a growing circle of top-flight restaurants, grocers and gourmands.

Even though Stout never may find affordable land near his urban customers, he doesn't begrudge the farmers who came before him.

"The farmers that are around, the big payoff they ever have in life is selling their land," Stout said. "It's hard to blame anybody for doing that."

Times database specialist Justin Mayo and staff writer Tom Brown contributed to this story.

Brier Dudley's phone-message number is 206-515-5687. His e-mail address is: bdudley@seattletimes.com

------------------------------------------------ How does the Farmland Preservation Program work? ------------------------------------------------

To preserve farms permanently, King County buys development rights, or the right to develop the property in the future.

The same approach has been used to preserve forests and open space in the Cascade foothills, and also may be used to protect salmon habitat in coming years.

The program is voluntary. County officials negotiate a separate deal with each property owner, but those in the farmland program all have the same restrictions: None can cover more than 5 percent of the tillable soil with buildings or pavement, and none can use the property for a business other than agriculture.

Owners also are prohibited from using the land for active recreation such as golf or soccer, on the grounds that that could make the property unusable for farming and require parking lots and other permanent changes.

Appraisals determine what each property is worth in its current state and what it would be worth if developed. The county then offers to pay the difference.

Some farmers refuse the offers, others negotiate for better deals. Altogether, 222 have sold their development rights.

Some landowners reserve the right to build a few homes on their land.

That is allowed as long as enough land is left for farming, usually 10 to 35 acres per house.

Those who reserve home sites receive a smaller payment from the county, because they retain a limited right to develop.