Root for the ponies, and their farms

By Karen Hosler

11/24/2009

Been to Laurel Park race course lately? Ever? For folks who travel often along the I-95 corridor between Washington and Wilmington, it's worth making a stop at this horsy outdoor oasis a bit south of Baltimore. Odds are the charming old oval won't be there much longer.

Sad enough will be silencing those pounding hoofs and the urgent cries of encouragement from bettors-"Come on, Three. Come on, Three; Oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, baby." But Laurel's potential shuttering highlights a much larger retreat of one of the remaining bulwarks against the creep of poisonous suburban sprawl - the working horse properties in the Chesapeake Bay watershed.

Laurel Park appears about to fall victim to a botched bid for a new lease on life through slot machine gambling. Maryland voters approved slots last year in what was supposed to be a fiscal shot in the arm for the state to take the pressure off taxes. Probably incidentally for most voters, slots were also supposed to help Maryland's flagging thoroughbred racing industry compete with tracks and breeding farms in neighboring Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Delaware. Slots give those states an advantage in attracting bettors, and boost racing purses to draw the best equine competitors. The new generation of one-arm bandits has paid off quite nicely for them.

None of that is working yet for Laurel. Magna International, the Canadian company that owns Laurel as well as Pimlico Race Track, the home of the Preakness in Baltimore, went bankrupt just as bidding for a state slots license began. The two tracks are now on the auction block--with the smart money betting that Laurel Park will soon become home to a big box store.

Granted, those 236 acres tucked along a junky road of strip malls are not anyone's version of wilderness or even all that much green space. But their potential redevelopment serves as a warning of what may await the two million or so acres of working horse property in the bay watershed that stretches from central New York through Pennsylvania and embraces most of Maryland, Delaware, and Virginia.

As this land is transformed--because its owners can no longer make a living from horses--both the economy and the environment lose. Retired race tracks and horse farms rarely get preserved for posterity. They usually become shopping centers or housing developments. This so-called "highest and best use" development often costs more in government services than it produces in tax revenue, according to studies by the American Farmland Trust.

Consequences for the bay are dire. Development means more toxic run-off from roof-tops, roads and parking lots; increased nitrogen-filled tailpipe emissions from cars, and the loss of vital wildlife habitat for critters that help keep the ecology in balance. To say nothing of the loss of farms and vistas that distinguish our region.

Perhaps a slots cease-fire is in order. Rob Burke, executive director of the Maryland Industry Horse Council, said now that the Free State is sort of on equal slots footing with its neighbors, everyone should work together for common benefit of racing in the Mid-Atlantic region, to better compete with racing powerhouses based in Kentucky and New York. Alas, Maryland's neighbors seem intent on upping the ante instead.

Luckily, recreational horse use is rising throughout the bay watershed, even where breeding farms and traditional agriculture are disappearing. Prince William County, Virginia, for example, has lost much of its traditional agriculture but is dotted with five-to-10-acre farmettes, where horses are boarded and trained. Owners often have day jobs elsewhere.

With this transformation has come greater concern for nutrient management. Horse poop is easier to manage than what comes from chickens, dogs and people, but it still needs to be controlled. Prince William has developed a model program that shows these part-time farmers how to compost their manure for future use or sale with a minimum of moving it around. Some enterprising horse owners dry out the stuff and sell it.

Thing is, though, the recreational horse industry needs the racing folks. They share horses, trainers, vets, farriers, feed growers, hay suppliers, tack shops, arenas, and eager enthusiasts. Lose racing, and the whole culture could come crashing down.

Maybe nobody cares about a two-bit race track that is all but empty on the most glorious of these late fall days. But we all should. Laurel Park helps give this region its character, its history, its environment. Get out there and root for your favorites before it's too late.