2019 In Review


Thanks to those who support wilderness conservation, Northeast Wilderness Trust has made strides towards a wilder tomorrow for the northeast. In 2015, we set a goal of conserving 10,000 additional wilderness acres by 2020, and we exceeded that goal this past year with the protection of Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve. Each conservation success in the intervening years was critical to making it this far.

Check out our work in each state below!

New Hampshire

In 2019, NWT launched a campaign to expand the Binney Hill Wilderness Preserve in New Ipswich, NH by 47 acres. With the help of 76 generous donors, we have met the fundraising goal and now count the Sawtelle Addition as a forever-wild piece of this critical wildlife corridor! This land connects Binney Hill to the NWT-protected Wapack Wilderness to the north, and it secures the last piece of the Binney Pond shoreline so that this undeveloped pond is now fully protected.

The 47-acre Sawtelle Addition secures a small but beautiful section of the Wapack Trail as it crosses boardwalks affording views of the undeveloped, and now fully protected, Binney Pond.

New York

Just west of Poke-o-Moonshine in the northeast Adirondack foothills, the brand new Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve now protects 2,434 acres. The land includes pristine ponds, cliffs where peregrine falcons nest, wetlands, brooks, and vernal pools. The protection of this land furthers the effort to secure a swath of interconnected lands for wildlife, linking the Adirondack Park to the shores of Lake Champlain.

Cardinal flowers (Lobelia cardinalis) bloom at Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve
Photo by Harry White


NWT bought the 12 acres to add a beautiful, official access point (below) to the Alder Stream Wilderness Preserve in Atkinson, ME. In partnership with NRCS and local contractors, we removed culverts from former logging roads in the Preserve to restore waterways and jump-start the rewilding process. We will soon be launching a fundraising campaign to purchase 3,000+ acres in Western Maine…stay tuned!

Alder Stream Wilderness Preserve now has a beautiful parking area.

Southern New England

On the Muddy Pond Wilderness Preserve in Kingston, MA, more than 75 students have connected with the globally rare Atlantic Coastal Pine Barrens ecosystem this year. They visit Muddy Pond to hike and reconnect with nature, and learn science, history, and wilderness values in a real-world setting. Biology students and local ecologist Tim Simmons are monitoring rare and endangered plants, while dozens of volunteers have helped haul out litter, close down ATV trails, and create a beautiful new parking area.

Students enjoy a hike through the globally rare Atlantic Coastal Pine Barrens on the Muddy Pond Wilderness Preserve

In Connecticut, we’re excited to be exploring new conservation opportunities in the northwest corner of the state, and will be presenting at the Connecticut Land Conservation Conference this March (see upcoming events below). UnTrammeled: The Case for Wild Nature, our popular presentation, will make its Connecticut debut at the Norfolk Public Library on May 21…save the date!


In partnership with The Nature Conservancy in Vermont, we now hold forever-wild protections on Burnt Mountain. Spanning 5,000 acres across the northern spine of the Green Mountains, this rugged terrain is home to black bear, brook trout, and a rich diversity of breeding songbirds. We continue to raise money to protect the Bridgewater Hollow Bramhall Wilderness Preserve, and hosted a BioBlitz on the land this summer.

Calvale Brook at Burnt Mountain

Curious what the next five years will bring? Check out our 2020-25 Strategic Plan to see how the Northeast Wilderness Trust will accelerate and expand the protection of wild places. You can help make the Northeast a wilder place by making a tax-deductible donation. Your support gives the Northeast Wilderness Trust the standing to conserve more land at a greater pace. Thank you.


Eagle Mountain Success


A century-old tradition continues in New York’s Adirondack Park to solve the ecological crises of today and give us hope.

By Jon Leibowitz

Originally appeared in the Rewilding Earth blog at rewilding.org 

Old Forest

With the slap of her tail, the beaver formally welcomed us to her domain. She dipped back under the tannin-brown water, reemerged, slapped again, and zigzagged around her lodge.  This river was her home, not ours; we were interlopers in her wild place.

We were six or so miles into a canoe trip up and down the Oswegatchie River within the Five Ponds Wilderness in the western Adirondacks.  The Five Ponds landscape looks and feels different from most places across the northeastern United States, and for good reason.  Within this New York State-designated forever-wild landscape remain approximately 50,000 acres of ancient forest.  This expanse is recognized as the largest uncut forest in the Northeast.  The river itself is lined with countless stately Eastern White Pines towering above 100 feet.  The forests beyond host larger and older trees, everywhere, than I ever find, anywhere, in my home state of Vermont.

A few days into the trip we turned off the Oswegatchie and paddled up an unnamed tributary.  We made our way over beaver dams submerged under swollen spring waters, just barely passable without portage.  As we meandered further up the watershed, schools of trout darted beneath my canoe through clear water bounded by sandy riverbeds.  Eventually, the local engineers proved too successful and we parked our canoes just below a series of higher dams and headed off into the forest.

Paddling the Oswegatchie River

We began our walk amongst beautiful, old hardwoods.  We passed the largest black cherry I have ever seen.  Soon followed the largest yellow birch.  What left me in awe was not the superlatives but the regularity and commonality of large trees—everywhere.  Old growth, ancient, virgin, primary, primeval, pre-European; whatever one chooses to call it—looks and feels different from most forests across the Northeast.  By some estimates, 99% of the forest across the vast Northern Forest has been logged—the remaining one percent is what’s left of the forest that stood before European arrival and the subsequent warfare upon forests.

After a snack, we left the hardwoods behind and crested an esker that stood between ponds.  This heap of sediment and boulders, left behind by some ancient glacial event, afforded us a view in all directions.  What lay before me was a forest that rivaled the “park-like” appearance of this continent’s stately western ponderosa forests (my former home) and California’s redwood groves.  Towering white pines dotted the terrain in every direction, with many over 125’ by our estimation.  One was too large for three grown men to wrap our arms around.  Yes, it felt juvenile to hug the tree.  Yes, it also felt thrilling, hopeful, and joyous.

Elder giants strewn across the forest floor by old age or tremendous storms created wide, clear walkways.  It brought me right back to a college ramble through the redwoods many years ago, where giant round red bridges punctuated towering trunks reaching for the sky and lush green ferns carpeting the earth.

Walking this forest was the first time in the Northeast that an experience in the woods evoked in me that feeling of wild magnificence, of old, grand, original forest; the same way I used to often feel tramping through wilderness areas out West.  There is a definition for what constitutes old growth.  It’s scientific and it likely makes sense to someone.  I don’t know the precise point at which a secondary forest can be formally defined as old growth, nor do I care to know.  What I do know, is that to me, ancient forests are self-apparent; I can feel it in my bones when I’m in one.

I left the Five Ponds with a full soul, a rejuvenated spirit, and an optimistic outlook on my work.

Ecological Amnesia

It wasn’t so long ago that most of the Northern Forest resembled the Five Ponds and rivaled western forests in splendor and size.  It was not so long ago that witnessing a smooth-barked beech was the rule, not the exception; that flocks of passenger pigeons darkened the skies above the forest canopy; that catamounts stalked prey in a forest that stretched a third of the way across the continent.  Nor was it so long ago that these rivers were the highways for annual migrations of millions of Atlantic salmon, American eel, and other diadromous species – a phenomenon that thankfully still continues in places like the Great Bear Rainforest of the Pacific Northwest.

Today the passenger pigeon—once accounting for 40% of the entire bird population of North America—is extinct.  Catamounts have been extirpated from the Northeast. The cyclical, life-giving transfer of ocean nutrients hundreds of miles inland thanks to the migratory salmon and eels has functionally halted. The only sizeable Atlantic salmon populations today are raised in enormous, industrial offshore nets.  Many of the regal Eastern White Pines like those along the Oswegatchie were cut for the Crown’s Navy centuries ago and a majority of the forest that stood upon European arrival was cut altogether by the late 1800s.  Those original natural wonders brought richness to human life and great beauty and diversity to life itself.  The absence of those missing denizens and grand eastern forests has become our collective baseline; the great forgetting.  We all suffer from this ecological amnesia.

Before European “settlement”—read conquest–of America, there was no such thing as “old-growth,” no such thing as “native forest,” no such thing as “ancient forest,” because all of the forests were mixed old growth, they were all native, they were all diverse, ancient communities.  Difficult as all of this may be to imagine, living as we do in this time of extraordinary ecological impoverishment, all of these images of fecundity are from near-contemporary accounts easy enough to find, if only we bother to look.


Derrick Jenson, Strangely Like War: The Global Assault on Forests
White pine and hemlock reach staggering size in the Five Ponds Wilderness Area

The Northern Forest has changed and it continues to do so, both of natural and not so natural causes.  We are born into an environment lacking apex predators, large trees, and landscapes with multi-generational communities of life. We lack deep understanding of and direct connection with the rhythms and laws of nature. It’s easy to accept that what surrounds us is normal.  It isn’t.

The diminished has become our baseline; the empty, our cognitive reality, and the implications are drastic.  With each generation that unwittingly accepts a less diverse planet as natural and normal, we collectively become more detached from the full diversity of life.  As our original memory diminishes, it becomes ever harder to reimagine what the wild world should look like and what steps should be taken to rebalance our species with the planet; emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

A coral reef ravaged by climate change, bleached stone-dead as far as the eye can see, is unsurprisingly less inspiring than a reef overflowing with the psychedelic technicolor spectacle of thousands of species.  Likewise, a northern hardwood forest of young spindly trees of the same age and diameter, devoid of stalking big cats and the full diversity of the land community, inspires one less than an old forest full of life.  Less inspiration means greater apathy.

This ecological amnesia, or shifting baseline syndrome, may be one of the greatest threats to rebalancing our coexistence with natural systems.  It’s predictable that fewer wander in and wonder at the natural world.  It’s no surprise that more choose to escape into the digital world rather than the natural one.  Those living today have been wholesale ripped off by those that preceded us!  And, the cycle could continue in an endless negative feedback loop of more losses, more amnesia.  But it doesn’t have to. There is a clear path to a more hopeful future.

Taking Stock of Where We Are

The Adirondacks are perhaps the world’s greatest experiment in ecological recovery, a place hard used a century ago and now slowly recovering, slowly proving that where humanity backs off, nature rebounds.


Bill McKibben

Over the past 100+ years, the Northern Forest has returned.  These tenacious woods have proven their resilience.  This recovery has followed two parallel tracks: the intentional and the accidental. The intentional track includes watershed moments like the creation of the Adirondack Park and the inclusion of forever-wild language in the New York Constitution in 1892; the creation of the White and Green Mountain National Forests in 1918 and 1932, respectively; the donation of land that became Baxter State Park in 1932; the passage of the Federal Wilderness Act in 1964 and subsequent Federal actions in 1975, 1984, and 2006 that designated significant portions of the Greens and Whites as Wilderness.

Those intentional efforts are laudable, but as a region that is approximately 90% privately owned, arguably the more widespread occurrence has been the “accidental” rewilding of the region. This most fortuitous recovery resulted from the exodus of the dairy and wool markets in the late 1800s, as farmers fled west to gentler, more fertile ground. This economic shift was furthered by the abandonment of the charcoal industry, which petered out with the diminishing timber supply.  With a sheer lack of humans, much of New England and the Adirondacks had a chance to rest and heal.  As Mr. McKibben so aptly states, when we back off, nature rebounds.

The report from Harvard Forest, Wildlands and Woodlands, calls for 70% of New England (30 million acres) to be preserved as forest, and 10%of that (3 million acres) to be preserved as Wildlands. (New York is not included in the report.)  We can celebrate the fact that the Northern Forest has largely recovered from its decimated state a hundred years ago. Thanks to the tireless work of the conservation movement, we are lucky that more than 25% of the region’s natural terrain has some sort of legal protection, largely from development.  However, only about 3-4% of the Northeast is legally protected as forever-wild.  Only such places—those with permanent forever-wild legal protections—are guaranteed to continue rewilding, growing old, and more complex. This is not nearly enough, and we have a long way to go before we reach 3 million forever-wild acres across New England

We are between two forested worlds–the natural forest of pre-settlement North America and the recovered forest of the future…The earlier forested world is not dead. We are studying and struggling to preserve its living remnants. And we do not believe that the future forest is powerless to be born. These remnants–with our help–will become the seeds from which a renewed forest spreads.


Mary Byrd Davis, Eastern Old-Growth Forests: Prospects for Rediscovery and Recovery

Most protected forests in the Northeast have been preserved for people: for natural resource extraction, recreation, or motorized vehicle access.  And that’s OK!  However, it is within our power to change the ratio towards a more nature-centered future. The act of rewilding is to give land back to wildlife and wildlife back to the land. The Five Ponds Wilderness is a blueprint of a more hopeful future, not a relic of a distant past never to return.

Rewilding Forests and Imaginations by Reimagining Wilderness

Henry David Thorough wrote more than 200 years ago that, “In Wildness is the Preservation of the World.”

Today, in wildness is the tonic to our many modern ecological dilemmas.  Wild places simply have a right to exist, but, let’s also acknowledge that rewilding and wilderness conservation in its historic context has been sidelined by the assumption that it is not relevant to vast segments of society.  Today, that argument no longer holds water and a reimagining of what wilderness means provides tangible and measurable hope in an otherwise bleak state of ecological affairs.

Only through more forever-wild conservation can we unleash the full potential of our region’s carbon sequestering forests.  Only through landscape-scale rewilding efforts can we stave off the biodiversity crisis.  And, only through the humble act of setting aside vast and connected places that are left to their own devices will wonder and amazement be accessible to more people.  Through rewilding, we can flip the script of ecological amnesia and create a positive feedback loop where more people connect with and care for wild places.

“You have to love something before you are moved to save it!”

Sylvia Earle

In the 21st century, conserving the recovered woodlands of the Northern Forest as forever-wild is the most cost effective, scalable, and efficient tool in our arsenal to combat the interconnected crises of climate change and biodiversity loss.  Such a new wilderness builds on the foundational ideas of the wilderness movement.  When Howard Zahniser conjured up the language for the Wilderness Act in 1964, he knew that wilderness could grow as well as shrink, and he consciously used the obscure word “untrammeled” in the law’s definition of wilderness. The Wilderness Act does not contain the words “pristine” or “untouched.”  Something that is trammeled is bound or caught; something untrammeled is free or unimpeded.

Wilderness is Relevant; Wilderness is Hope

As we consider the implications of a new wilderness for the 21st century and the hopeful reawakening of our collective connection with Wild Earth, places like Eagle Mountain can help lead the way.  The property was purchased not for people, but for nature.  It was protected so the forest could regain its original foothold and be self-willed, in every sense of the term.  And in doing so, the benefits to people will be both measurable and immeasurable.  Measurably, it will store carbon and provide safe harbor to wildlife.  Immeasurably, it will rekindle imagination and wonder for generations of people to come.   That in and of itself fills me with hope.

Find more great wilderness articles on the Rewilding Earth blog!


New York’s Newest Wilderness Preserve

Northeast Wilderness Trust closes on landmark wilderness project in the Adirondacks’ Champlain Valley

Jon Leibowitz, Northeast Wilderness Trust: (802) 829-8199
Mike Carr, Adirondack Land Trust: (518) 837-7569
Eileen Larrabee, Open Space Institute: (518) 427-1564

CHESTERFIELD, NY – A vast expanse of Adirondack foothills at the headwaters of the Boquet River, including wild streams, pristine ponds, and mature forest, has been permanently protected for the benefit of nature and people in a major land preservation milestone within the Adirondack Park’s ‘Blue Line.’

Copper Pond in the Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve. Photo: Brendan Wiltse.

“This is a momentous day for wilderness in New York’s Lake Champlain region,” says Jon Leibowitz, Executive Director of Northeast Wilderness Trust, the non-profit that purchased the 2,434-acre property from the Rodgers family on May 24th.  “In contrast to the great wilderness areas of the High Peaks and lakes country of the central and western Adirondacks, the easternmost region of the Adirondack Park remains underrepresented when it comes to forever-wild landscapes.  Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve is a big step toward ensuring that low-elevation areas receive equal wilderness representation within the beloved Adirondacks.  It’s in these ‘West Champlain Hills’ where some of greatest biological diversity is found in all of the Adirondack Park.”

The purchase of Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve entailed a year of fundraising towards a total project budget of $1.8 million.  Major funding support came from Sweet Water Trust, Conservation Alliance, Gallogly Family Foundation, Open Space Institute, and Cloudsplitter Foundation.

An aerial view of Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve. Photo: Brendan Wiltse.

Partnering with Northeast Wilderness Trust, Adirondack Land Trust will hold a “forever-wild” conservation easement on the property, and will be responsible for ensuring that the terms in the easement are upheld in perpetuity.

“This project is both innovative and unique in the Adirondack Park,” said Mike Carr, executive director of the Adirondack Land Trust. “First, this is not like other Adirondack wilderness; this is private forever-wild land that will now be opened to the public for uses that are compatible with its wilderness character. Also, the Adirondack Land Trust is just one of several partners using their different expertise to protect and manage this special place, leveraging the strengths of all involved. The Adirondack Land Trust has a 35-year history of investment in the Champlain Valley, primarily in farmland protection, and we are honored to work with Northeast Wilderness Trust and others to protect its biological diversity as well.”

Peregrine Falcons have been nesting in the cliffs of Eagle Mountain in recent years. Photo: Brendan Wiltse

Eagle Mountain is the beating heart of a large, intact forest that connects the High Peaks to lower elevation lands near Lake Champlain.  Surrounding protected areas include New York State’s Jay Mountain Wilderness and Taylor Pond Wild Forest (home to the local landmark, Poke-O-Moonshine Mountain), as well as other privately conserved lands.

The dramatic cliffs of the property’s namesake summit harbor nesting habitat for rare Peregrine Falcons, the fastest animal on the planet.  These New York State-listed endangered birds have been documented successfully nesting within the boundaries of the Preserve for the past several years.

In addition, the acquisition of Eagle Mountain will protect more than five miles of headwater streams that feed into the North Branch of the Boquet River.  These streams are cold, clear, and support rich native brook trout habitat.  The exceptional water quality of this stream system is further demonstrated by the presence of the Eastern Pearlshell, a rare freshwater mussel found in only a few locations in New York State and at risk throughout its historic habitat due to water pollution and dams.

“The protection of Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve is a monumental achievement in the larger effort to protect irreplaceable public resources within the Adirondacks,” says Kim Elliman, president and CEO of Open Space Institute, one of the project’s funders. “The Preserve is a critical stepping stone for wildlife moving across the landscape from Lake Champlain to the High Peaks. OSI is proud to have supported this project, and we commend the Northeast Wilderness Trust on their tireless work seeing this land protected.”

Champlain Area Trails will team up with Northeast Wilderness Trust and Adirondack Land Trust to develop a footpath that showcases the property’s beauty while respecting rare plant and animal communities.  In addition to hiking, fishing, wildlife watching, snowshoeing, and skiing, hunting with some restrictions will be allowed by permission.  Hunting permits are free and can be obtained at www.newildernesstrust.org.

“Renowned author and Northeast Wilderness Trust Advisor, Bill McKibben, wrote that ‘The Adirondacks are perhaps the world’s greatest experiment in ecological recovery, a place hard used a century ago and now slowly recovering, slowly proving that where humanity backs off, nature rebounds,’” reflects Jon Leibowitz of Northeast Wilderness Trust.  “Eagle Mountain is the proof behind McKibben’s lofty words.  This landscape is not pristine or untouched, but its wild character is strong, and from this point forward, it will continue its recovery and rewilding.  With this project we take a giant step towards creating a brighter, healthier future for both human and wild residents of this special corner of the Northeast.”

Although sufficient funding has been raised to complete the purchase of Eagle Mountain, there are funds still needed to support long term stewardship of the property.  If you would like to support the Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve with a tax-deductible gift, please visit www.newildernesstrust.org/donate or call (802) 224-1000.


Founded in 2002, Northeast Wilderness Trust conserves forever-wild landscapes for nature and people, to date protecting more than 34,000 acres across New England and the Adirondacks.


Portraits of wilderness


Accomplished photographer, scientist, and wilderness advocate, Brendan Wiltse, shares a tale from adventures in conservation in a wild (and as yet unprotected) corner of New York’s Adirondack Park.

The cliffs of Eagle Mountain and the setting for the author’s story. Brendan Wiltse

Hunkered down below a bush I peer over the cliff’s edge, scanning an adjacent rock face, looking for signs of a Peregrine Falcon nest. My heart is racing, not only because I may have the opportunity to capture an enigmatic shot of a bird family that just may help save them, but because I absolutely cannot let myself get caught. I’m trespassing. Not from the perspective of the landowners of this cliff face, but from the perspective of the falcons themselves. They are extremely sensitive to disturbance and will not tolerate a potential predator so close to their nest. I spot signs of droppings on the cliff, a tell-tale sign that a nest is just above, but there is no way to get clear sight of the nest without giving away my position.

Twenty-five feet behind me my dog Khyber is laying down. Normally, I wouldn’t take him on an outing to photograph wildlife, but today was more about scouting than getting a specific photograph. He’s a ten-year-old black Labrador retriever, and with many years of training, is the most well-behaved dog I have ever had the pleasure of calling my partner. I retreat to his side, momentarily assessing where we are headed off to next. I notice him sniffing over his shoulder, away from the cliff face. I stand to continue on, away from the nesting falcons. As I do, a face appears over a downed log twenty feet away. A black bear is peering back at us. It seems as though we’ve been caught trespassing after all.

Black Bear. ©Susan C. Morse

Khyber rises, spots the bear, but stays still. He knows he hasn’t been given the go ahead to roam freely and as tempting as it is to greet the bear he stays put. At the same time, I hear a noise further in the distance, three cubs scamper up a tree. My heart begins racing again as I realize I am between a cliff face and a mother bear with cubs. Khyber and I slowly circle the mother and her cubs, she keeps herself between us and them, as they watch from above. Once we no longer have the cliff to our back, we move away. The cubs scamper back down the tree and head down the opposite side of the mountain with their mom.

Peregrine Falcon. Brendan Wiltse

This was my experience two hours into my first visit to the Eagle Mountain Preserve. Just a few months prior, Northeast Wilderness Trust’s Deputy Director, Cathleen Maine, had reached out to me about a photograph for a report. What started as a fairly standard business email, turned into an opportunity to help tell the story of an incredible opportunity to create a Wilderness preserve.

Photography has always been a passion of mine and for the past five-years has been a full-time side gig. Conservation photography is what I am particularly passionate about. I’ve spent years sharing photographs of the natural world online, building connections between people and wild places. Along the way, I’ve worked with non-profit conservation organizations, helping to advance their missions to protect the Adirondacks. The opportunity to help with the Eagle Mountain Preserve is by far the most exciting. If Northeast Wilderness Trust is successful, and I have no doubt they will be, the homes of those falcons and bears will be forever protected.

As I sit on the summit of Eagle Mountain, reflecting on my recent encounters with the wildlife that call it home, a Peregrine Falcon lands on a dead tree in the distance. I pull out my telephoto lens and lay down in a prone position. I smile as I capture images of the falcon looking over its home. I hope these images will help tell the story of this incredible place, inspiring people to help protect it.

Khyber and I regroup and retreat down the opposite side of the mountain, taking care to not go in the direction of the mother bear and her cubs. As we reach the low valley below the light is fading. I check my map and realize we may be able to make it to nearby Copper Pond for sunset. We take off running, arriving as the last rays of light streak across the sky. I quickly setup for a landscape photograph. I have a hard time focusing on my camera setup as I take in the majestic beauty of this small pond. It is surrounded by steep hills, cliffs, and I can hear a waterfall flowing into it from the far shore. I barely get the photograph, but I’m nearly certain it will be a good one.

Sunset over Copper Pond. Brendan Wiltse.

For more than a year I have continued to explore and photograph the Eagle Mountain Preserve. I am very lucky to receive support for my conservation photography work from a small group of loyal supporters on Patreon. Patreon supporters help cover my expenses for capturing images of this magnificent landscape so that Northeast Wilderness Trust can focus on raising the money needed to protect it. I look forward to this incredible landscape opening to the public, so others can appreciate its beauty on a personal level that isn’t possible through a photograph. Until then, I hope my images inspire support for this worthy and important project.

— Brendan Wiltse

Brendan Wiltse is the Science & Stewardship Director for the Ausable River Association and a professional conservation photographer. He holds a Ph.D. in Biology from Queen’s University in Canada. While not out on the water studying Adirondack lakes and streams, he is often roaming the Wilderness with his camera and dog. You can view is photography at www.brendanwiltse.com

Your gift is critical to ensuring a forever-wild home for the black bears, Peregrine Falcons, and native brook trout of the Eagle Mountain Wilderness Preserve. Time is running out to reach our $1.8 million fundraising goal. Every dollar counts. Can you give $50 for Eagle Mountain? $500 protects one acre. $5,000 protects 10 acres. Please join our community of wilderness supporters by donating today.