Berliamont Estates Paving Road Disrupts White River National Forest Wildlife

The gravel crunches under tires on a road that feels less like infrastructure and more like an afterthought. It’s quiet here, just north of Edwards, where the White River National Forest presses in close and the only traffic is the occasional hiker or a deer slipping silently through the pines. But the owners of Berliamont Estates have a different vision for this 680-acre parcel. They want a paved, 2.5-mile road cutting through the quiet, turning a rustic track into a thoroughfare for 19 homes, each sitting on at least 35 acres of its own private slice of wilderness.

It sounds idyllic on paper. It sounds like a retreat for the fortunate few who can afford to take the plunge into unaffordable housing. But look closer at the map, and you start to see the friction.

Here’s the thing though: the current road works. It’s dirt. It’s rock. It’s quiet. The sparse vehicle traffic doesn’t disturb the wildlife, which relies on this area as a winter range for elk and deer and a migratory corridor for others. Hikers and mountain bikers use the existing trail systems without issue. The environment is intact. The tranquility is preserved.

So why pave it?

The proposed Berliamont Estates development seeks to appeal to an upper financial echelon, folks who want isolation but also want a smooth ride to their doorsteps. But the cost of that smooth ride isn’t just in asphalt. It’s in the water. And it’s in the fire risk.

Picture this: you’re living on 35 acres, cut off from the main grid. You need water for your family and for fighting off a wildfire. Do you truck it in, creating massive truck traffic on a narrow dirt road? Or do you pipe it, scarring the landscape with more infrastructure? The article notes these as "slight problems," but in the high country, slight problems become existential threats when the dry season hits.

And then there’s the road itself. The owners had to know when they purchased the land that they already had access. They just didn’t have the kind of access they wanted. They wanted paved. They wanted easy. But paving that 2.5-mile stretch means retaining walls instead of natural steeps, asphalt instead of dirt, and a disruption to migratory routes that wildlife have used for generations. It means more cars, more noise, and a disturbance to the public’s right to enjoy the quiet of the national forest.

The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development defines affordable housing as paying no more than 30 percent of income for gross housing costs. In this valley, that concept is still just a concept for most. For the buyers of Berliamont Estates, affordability isn’t the issue. It’s the luxury of isolation without the rustic reality. They’re buying the view, but they’re also buying the right to pave over the quiet.

It’s not exactly a surprise. We’ve seen it before. Developers buy up land, realize the existing access is too "rough" for their target demographic, and then push for improvements that benefit them more than the community. The current iteration of the road is a mecca for hikers and bikers. The new road would be a conduit for SUVs.

The owners may have been unaware of the public furor, or perhaps they just didn’t care. Either way, the case for their lack of regard for the existing ecosystem is solid. They’re trading a dirt road for a paved one, and the forest is footing the bill.

The sun dips lower behind the ridge, casting long shadows over the dirt track. A single car passes, kicking up dust that settles back onto the rocks. It’s quiet again. But it won’t be for long.