Yadon's piperia is not alone in this predicament. The red-legged frog (Rana draytonii), made famous by Mark Twain (1) and believed, for a long time, to have disappeared, is another potential victim of Dirty Harry. But let's not forget the Monterey pines themselves, another threatened species.

The actor, who reigns over the peninsula, wants to create a new golf course, and for that, he needs to uproot 17,000 of these rare pines. For several years, environmentalists have been fighting against this project, with the support of the California administration in charge of preserving the coast. But Clint Eastwood is both a powerful and stubborn man. He considers their concerns unfounded. According to him, he only wants to protect the "jewel" that is Pebble Beach, where he has a house.

California Dreamin'

Seventy-five year old Eastwood is an odd duck. Everyone is familiar with his main profession: he makes great films that are both raw and delicate, clear and obscure, simple and complex. His second profession, however, is less well known: property development in this little corner of California. He fell in love with this peninsula back in 1950 when he was in the army based at the local military base, Ford Ord.About twenty years ago, right after filming Pale Rider, he was elected mayor of Carmel, the neat little town next door. Why? Because he was ranting and raving about the municipal administration blocking his project to build a commercial building in the chic, pastel downtown. Once elected, he cleaned house in the city-planning department. He got his building, agreeing, however, to swap concrete for wood. He remained mayor for two years, before tiring and returning to his movies. But the town, christened "Clintville" by the media, continues to bear his mark...

In 1999, the year of True Crime, Clint, along with a group of associates, bought the Pebble Beach Company consortium, the association in charge of managing half of the Monterey peninsula. The area concerned is a huge gated community, situated along a magnificent rocky coast lined with beaches. Tourists who follow Route 1 down the coast from San Francisco to Los Angeles often drive through it. After paying an $8.50 toll at the entrance, they wind around huge often empty and rather ugly houses, no less than seven golf courses, hotels, etc. It is a sort of park where the animals have been replaced with rich retirees. Here, a house costs $6 to 8 million. Playing a round of golf is about $300. And you have to fork over $150,000 or become a member of one of the country clubs, which allows you to play even less crowded golf courses. If by misfortune you were to step one foot on to these courses, a make-up wearing golfer would snap at you, "You can't come here in jeans!" However, Pebble Beach also hosts the remains of a beautiful forest, a few rare orchids, and endangered frogs.

With his partners (including golf legend Arnold Palmer and former Los Angeles Olympic Games organizer Peter Ueberroth), Clint proposed a development plan providing for, on the one hand, the "permanent" preservation of 200 hectares of forest, and, on the other hand, the construction of a new golf course, 33 new homes, 60 employee housing units, a few hotels, etc. Environmentalists have shouted themselves hoarse, calling it an "environmental disaster."

Taking the initiative, Clint Eastwood and his friends submitted their "plan for the preservation and promotion of the Del Monte Forest" to a local referendum. In November 2000, the year of Space Cowboys, they won with 66% of the votes. "During the campaign, Clint Eastwood broadcast a commercial in which he was walking through the woods and urged voters to 'save the forest.' It is the greatest property development con in history!," rails eighty-six year old Ted Hunter, co-chair of the "Concerned Residents" association. At one time, Hunter headed another association, that of property owners, which is very buddy-buddy with the Pebble Beach Company. But he had no luck, the golf course is going to be built right in front of his house and the woods that he looks out into every morning are going to disappear. If many of his neighbors voted for the plan, it is only because "the value of their property is going to skyrocket," he grumbles.

The local referendum did nothing to calm the controversy. Local activists have vowed to derail the project. David Dilworth, HOPE director, is the most vibrant of them. He has the face of Mark Twain and punctuates his remarks with bursts of laughter. At fifty-two years old, he is a child of the region, who has dabbled in numerous professions, from computer scientist to hang-gliding instructor to racecar driver. "As a teenager, I ran among these trees. I've watched them slowly disappear, like a sort of erosion. I'll fight to the end for them." He is a tree hugger and proud of it. When he goes for a walk in these disappearing woods, he can't help but get excited. "Oh, I love these baby pine. Listen to this woodpecker here.Tthe forest is pure, it is just as the Europeans discovered it."

Last month, Dilworth and Eastwood had a little altercation. The actor had invited Gale Norton, Interior Secretary for the Bush Administration, to come plant trees with the students of a local school. Dilworth is there, armed with a sign to protest against "the destruction of Pebble Beach." Eastwood catches sight of him and gets all worked up, "All you're doing is talking. Why don't you come plant a few trees?" To which Dilworth responds, "Up until now, we have at least been courteous, but today, we have reached a whole other level." To our surprise, Dilworth is not familiar with his mighty adversary's films, "I don't watch them, I know him well enough this way," he justifies. Or maybe he is afraid of liking them?

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly...