Oil is flowing in the Dakota Access pipeline, but protesters aren't giving up

WILLIAMSBURG, Ia. — Even as oil flows through the now-completed Dakota Access pipeline, the fight against the hotly contested line still lives on in a makeshift camp here in Iowa County.

Little Creek Camp, with its collective of 20 or so environmentalists, opened after federal authorities in February evacuated the massive anti-pipeline encampment near the Standing Rock Sioux reservation in North Dakota.

Those campers say they believe the pipeline can still be defeated — even as its owners, Energy Transfer Partners, plan to finish filling the 1,172-mile line with crude oil Sunday, shipping it from the Bakken formation in North Dakota to a distribution hub in Patoka, Ill. 

"It's disheartening to say the least," said Glenn Williamson, a 41-year-old camp member from Sioux Falls, S.D., "but for some of us, it's strengthening our resolve as well. We know we still need to be here and we are going to be as active, if not more, in the future."

The campers, spread among 14 acres of tall prairie grass and thick woods, hold out hope that the Iowa Supreme Court will reverse the Iowa Utilities Board's decision that granted Energy Transfer Partners' eminent domain authority for the project. 

"These are really smart judges, and I think we have a fair shot in the Iowa Supreme Court," said Carolyn Raffensperger, executive director of the Science and Environmental Health Network and a board member with Iowa's chapter of the Sierra Club.

Even so, pipeline opponents have started broadening their aim to target other pipelines — including the Keystone XL project, which, like Dakota Access, was revived by President Donald Trump's executive action in January. 

At Little Creek and a network of small camps across the country, activists are attempting to transition the recent swell of opposition against Dakota Access into a larger, sustainable movement.  

"This is huge and important," Williamson said. "The work is never going to be done. I tried to go back into the real world, to sign that W-2 again, for about five weeks. I just couldn't do it, and I'm not the only one."

'We'll never even know it's there'

Energy Transfer spokeswoman Lisa Dillinger said the pipeline will be filled with oil by Sunday, and contracts with shippers begin June 1. 

"We are very pleased to bring this important infrastructure project that benefits all Americans and our national economy into service on June 1," Dillinger said. 

Audubon County farmer Ed Wiederstein said the news from Energy Transfer should put an end to months of controversy over the pipeline, the largest ever to transport oil through Iowa.

The chairman of the pro-pipeline Midwest Alliance for Infrastructure Now, Wiederstein said the pipeline will move oil safely across Iowa farms. 

"We’ll never even know it’s there," he said. "And that ground will be back in production. It won't be at 100 percent for a while, but it’ll get back there."

In Iowa, the debate has raged on for months. 

Farmers complained that construction crews were wrecking their soil, which they feared could affect corn and soybean yields for years to come.

Hundreds of activists repeatedly risked arrest protesting at and around active work sites — several even lodged themselves inside a piece of the 30-inch pipe in an attempt to delay construction.

Meanwhile, trade groups pointed to the economic windfall the pipeline delivered to local and out-of-state workers who helped build it.

Still, Wiederstein said he's thankful that protests in Iowa never grew out of hand. He viewed the thousands who filled camps in North Dakota as "a little bit over the top."

There, hundreds of tribes congregated on the vast prairie to stand in solidarity with the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, which complained the pipeline's path under the nearby Missouri River threatened the reservation's water supply.

The gathering, reaching upward of 10,000 people at times, turned the regional pipeline into an international story.

For all the attention garnered by protests, Wiederstein said there were still plenty of reasons to support the project: The more modern pipeline may help retire outdated lines. It will boost property tax payments across the 18 Iowa counties it travels. And many farmers were happy to have the added income from easement payments, he said.

"There were some that would have liked to have it zigzag through their farms, mainly because of what they got paid," Wiederstein said. "They didn’t mind the money."

On a recent drive near Ames, he even forgot about the pipeline's path nearby, as the evidence of construction had largely disappeared.

"I had to do a double-take," he said. "I couldn’t even see it."

'We're going to be on the lookout'

With oil filling the steel line, opponents say they'll start watching for possible leaks and spills. The pipeline leaked 86 gallons in April near a rural pump station in South Dakota, the Associated Press reported.

"We’re going to be on the lookout. We’re going to be watchdogs," said Matt Ohloff, an organizer with Iowa Citizens for Community Improvement, a vocal opponent of the pipeline, "because we have no faith in the Iowa Utilities Board or Dakota Access."

Ohloff said the permitting process represented a "complete failure" on the part of the Iowa Utilities Board. He lamented that neither the local Republican nor Democratic party played a significant role in defending Iowa landowners who didn't want the pipeline in their backyards.

Iowa Gov. Terry Branstad, however, said the pipeline approval process was handled in a "very careful and judicious manner."

He said transitioning away from rail to pipeline transport of oil will prove safer, avoiding the "tragic accidents" documented in other states. 

"We think that this is a better and safer way to do it," the governor told reporters this week. "We have thousands of miles of pipeline through the state of Iowa. Many of them are much older, and the newer approach that was used in this pipeline I think will be a lot safer.”

While the Iowa Utilities Board permitted the project, regulatory oversight lies with federal authorities, particularly the U.S. Department of Transportation Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration.

That agency was responsible for a slew of construction regulations regarding Dakota Access.

"The fact is pipelines are proven to be the safest, most reliable and efficient way to transport energy products," said Dillinger, the Energy Transfer spokeswoman. "We built the Dakota Access Pipeline using the latest technology and exceeded minimum federal safety requirements throughout the process."

The federal pipeline agency will require inspections of the pipeline at least once every three to seven years, officials said, but some companies warrant more frequent inspections based on determined risk factors. 

Environmentalists have little faith in the government's ability to regulate pipelines. Between 2010 and 2016, Iowa authorities were notified of 79 pipeline breaches from more than 25 pipeline operators, according to a Des Moines Register analysis. 

"We're going to stay vigilant," Ohloff said. "Like we’ve said throughout this entire process, it’s not a matter of if a spill or leak happens, it’s a matter of when."

'It doesn't change anything'

Even with oil running under his Boone County farm, Dick Lamb has no plans to stop fighting the pipeline. 

"It doesn't change anything," he said. "For a long time, the mantra of the resistance was, 'It’s not over till the oil is flowing.' And I guess I'd maintain it isn’t even over then."

He's among the 14 landowners suing over the Iowa Utilities Board's decision to grant eminent domain authority to the private pipeline developer.

Lamb said he's spent about $20,000 on legal costs so far. The suit was joined with one from the Iowa Sierra Club, which argued the pipeline posed environmental threats. 

Lamb is holding out hope, but he also acknowledged the fight ahead is a "long shot."

"They have just almost limitless funds for their legal process and we don’t. They’ve been through this many times in many states and we haven’t," said Lamb, 73. "But we are still hopeful. We think we have a good cause and a good argument."

Lamb, a retired research psychologist at ACT in Iowa City, said the 300-acre Boone County farm has been in his family since his grandfather purchased it in the 1870s.

Though another family has farmed the land for three generations, he said "it's ours, and we just don’t want a pipeline."

Dakota Access previously offered $390,000 for an easement to bury about a mile's worth of pipeline, but he received about $180,000 after rejecting the company's offers and the land was condemned with eminent domain authority. 

Lamb's farm sits just off  U.S. Highway 30 about 2 miles from the Ames city limits. Corn and soybean fields nearby have been developed for commercial use. 

"One wouldn’t have to be a real estate mogul to realize it would have the potential for development," Lamb said. "They paid us absolutely nothing for that potential. They just viewed it as farmland. To me, that’s taking away our rights, and taking it away from our children."

'We have to offer an alternative'

At Little Creek Camp, the warm spring sun beats down on a small collection of tents, teepees and a plywood-wrapped yurt spread across the site of a former tree farm.  

It's nothing to the scale of the North Dakota camp that came before it. But the occupiers here, staying with permission from the landowner, say that's not the point.

"We can't just fight. We can't just resist," said Matthew Gordon, a native of the Quad Cities who has been at Little Creek for two months. "We have to offer an alternative. We have an alternative here."

That alternative means a different, more eco-friendly approach to living. At the camp, piles of broken eggshells and rotting potato peels serve as compost in the making for a small, burgeoning garden.

He scatters wildflower seeds and forages for food like stinging nettles, considered an invasive species by others.

He plans to restore native grasses and plants to boost bee and butterfly populations and to repair a shallow creek that weaves through the property. 

"We're trying to be self-sufficient," he said. "This is the time. We can no longer sit on the fence. You have to make a choice."