This is 99% Invisible.
I'm Roman Mars.
In 2019, two hunters were scouting for elk in Wyoming when they came across a peculiar feature in the landscape.
The hunters had first noticed it while poring over maps of the area.
Now they were driving out to see it for themselves, a kind of break in the terrain near the state's southeast corner.
So it's open country.
It's open ranch country, sagebrush country.
And then there's this big mountain sticking up right there in the middle of it.
That just, it's the only mountain.
Brad Cape is a fencing contractor from central Missouri.
Brad has been hunting since he was old enough to walk.
So when he and his hunting partner saw the Lone Mountain with its dark timber and the arid empty land around it, he knew what it meant.
It is a very unique place.
And you can see on a map that it's a very unique place.
But whenever you drive around it, it really comes to life.
It is a rocky mountain that sits out by itself.
You know, it might as well have a big bullseye on it that says there's elk here.
And it's true.
The mountain basically screamed good hunting.
That's Montana-based journalist Nick Mott.
I'm a hunter too, so I get how Brad felt when he found this spot.
Poring over land boundaries and topographic lines, trying to figure out where animals are and other hunters aren't finding that perfect area is often nearly as exciting as the hunt itself.
And this time, all the pieces of the puzzle were fitting into place.
The area had everything Big Game needed.
Forage, water, cover.
On the map, the peak was named Elk Mountain.
Which, you know, was probably another big clue.
And so we were driving around it.
We're just seeing how close we could get to this mountain.
And this sweet old gal pulls up there and rolls down her window and ask if she can help us.
You know,
And we said, well, we're just looking for a way to that mountain.
Is there a way to get, to get up there?
We'd like to, we were thinking about hunting it.
And she's like, there's no way up there.
A billionaire bought it and he don't let nobody in.
And we said, oh, okay, you know, well, is there any elk around here or deer around here?
That's when this sweet old gal told them there were so many elk in the area they'd actually become a nuisance.
Eating the hay meant for cattle.
And we just kind of looked at each other and said, yes, ma'am, thank you for your time, you know.
And we were excited from that moment on that we were going to find a way in there.
But finding a way in there wasn't going to be easy.
Brad and his fellow hunters would end up trying to access Elk Mountain again and again, and again until eventually.
It wasn't even about hunting elk anymore, but something way bigger than that.
And, whether they succeeded or not, would end up having lasting consequences for the future of land use everywhere in the US.
Because the single largest obstacle preventing the hunters from making it onto Elk Mountain wasn't the elevation or the topography.
It was how the mountain itself had been divided up into public and private land.
When you look at that place on a map, it looks like a bunch of these little bitty squares.
And when you start looking at it, you see that it is, it's a checkerboard.
The checkerboard, as it's commonly known, is a phenomenon unique to the American West.
A pattern of land ownership which is found in huge areas from New Mexico all the way up to Washington.
On a map, these particular areas look a lot like well, a checkerboard, or perhaps checkered linoleum tiles.
But instead of alternating black and white squares, checkerboarded land alternates between single square mile parcels of public land and square mile parcels of private land.
So every public square borders a private square, which borders a public square, which borders a private square, which borders a public square, which borders a.
Well, you get the idea.
If you look out of an airplane window while flying over a checkerboarded area, it's not uncommon to see one square with a private housing development on it, while the next sits relatively untouched.
Or perhaps every other square features dense forest on public land, while those private squares in between are logged.
Again, just think of those alternating tiles.
An image which Brad finds himself invoking all the time.
Still to this day.
If I have someone ask me about this in the grocery store, I can't explain it unless I'm standing on a tile floor.
Because here in the Midwest and the rest of the country, they just don't get it.
There's a catch though, when it comes to hunting or doing anything really on the checkerboarded area.
In the US, there's no legal way to pass through private property without the landowner's permission.
That's trespassing.
So public land in the checkerboard is often very difficult to access.
After all, any public square in a checkerboard is surrounded on all sides by private property.
It's only ever catty-corner to other public squares.
It doesn't matter that the public land belongs to us, the public.
The reality is, it's only the owners of the adjacent private squares who have an easy way in.
These inaccessible public lands are what's called corner-locked.
So it's a big deal out west because you have the layout of public land out there, but you're just trying to keep the access to yourself.
And when it came to hunting in the checkerboard on Elk Mountain, it was no different.
The private half of the checkerboard belonged to a ranch, and the ranch wasn't allowing strangers to cross their land.
But to Brad, that just made the public land all the more tantalizing, because it meant that it had the one thing that any good hunter was looking for.
No other hunters.
So the next year, in 2020, Brad and his friends, they decided to try something that in hunting circles, is called corner crossing.
Because something where nobody else would be, that's where I want to be.
And in order to do that, we had to cross these corners.
To understand corner crossing, think about a literal checkerboard.
In a checkers game, a piece that starts on black needs to stay on black.
So the pieces move diagonally, crossing caddy corner from the corner of one square to another.
Moving through checkerboarded land works in the same way.
To avoid the ranch's property.
All Brad and his friends had to do was move around like a checker's piece.
They'd start on public land and then make sure to stay on public land by only crossing into new squares diagonally, at the corners where all those public squares touch.
Tell me about you know you, I mean so the way it works in this area, like you set up camp and your camp is in the first like square that is publicly accessible.
And then you cross from there.
Like how, how did that work?
Yeah, that's exactly what it was.
That's Phil Yeomans.
Phil is also from Missouri, and he's been hunting with Brad for about a decade.
Phil explained that this time they all hiked from a public road towards the checkerboard's nearest approachable corner.
When they got there, in the middle of this empty field there was a little government survey marker about the size of a Coke can.
There were also two no trespassing signs, along with a couple of posts called T-posts, with a chain strung between them, which was ironic, considering it was obstructing the one spot where they could legally cross.
So we just grabbed hold of the top of that T-post and swung our feet around you know kind of doing a little ballerina around the T-post so that we didn't touch the private property.
Yeah, we weren't nonchalant about it.
We were very specific, you know, as in we planted our foot exactly.
From that point on, they made sure to stay entirely on public land their whole time, inside the checkerboard.
They corner-crossed from one public square to another as they hunted for elk on Elk Mountain.
And from the start, the mountain proved true to its name.
Man, that first morning, the bulls were bugling.
We could hear them from the county road.
Oh!
And once we got up to the place, we decided we were going to camp.
We saw a big old herd coming and walking down the side hill.
And we just stood there and watched them.
It was like, this is going to be good.
But we were up the mountain, up the mountain, up the mountain.
And we ended up so far up that mountain.
We drank water out of an elk track seeping out of the hill that day.
And this elk's bugling just as far away as you can hear, you know.
They would go on to harvest three big bull elk.
And I can tell you, this is a big deal.
Most elk hunts lead to nothing, mine included.
And these guys got a haul.
But things weren't all sunshine and roses and big bugling bulls because, just as they were field dressing, a bull elk, a man appeared in the distance.
And he makes the walk over to us, which took quite a while.
We just kept working, you know, because they're half a mile, you know, from us.
As the man walked over, Brad's friend Zach, thought something felt wrong and started recording on his phone.
So he just walks up to us and asks us what we're doing there.
You know, and was a little snotty about it.
Hey, how we doing?
Ben, how are you?
Worn out.
Yeah?
How'd you get in here?
It was the ranch's manager, a man named Steve Grindy.
The hunters told Grindy they got here by crossing from a public section of land to another public section at a corner.
So on that first corner with the signs on it, how'd you get through that?
Grabbed a T-post to follow around it.
That's it.
It's got a chain on it, so you can't go between them.
But it's also on private property.
Anytime you touch that thing, it's criminal trespassing.
That's why they're there.
But the hunters had done their research.
They pointed out that Wyoming Fish and Game and even the state attorney general had said that crossing at corners was legal.
But Grindy countered.
You can't corner jump in Carbon County.
Period.
I believe everything we read says we can't.
Well, I'm just going to have to go to the court and have them decide.
Right.
That's fine.
Okay.
As uncomfortable as the encounter was, it wasn't out of the ordinary.
Spats over corner crossings happen between hunters and landowners all the time.
Ultimately, it's all part of a much larger war over public and private land and the checkerboard that began over a century and a half earlier.
The US government has been in the business of dividing up government-owned land into squares since 1785.
The system was the brainchild of Thomas Jefferson, who dreamed of selling all those squares to a nation of small yeoman farmers.
But the actual checkerboarding of the land began at the tail end of the Civil War, when policymakers in Washington wanted American settlers to move west.
Because, as anyone who's ever played Oregon Trail knows, moving out west was hard.
Beyond the 100th Meridian, most settlers struggled to access the necessary supplies to get their homesteads up and running or their goods to market.
So, in the mid-1800s, the U.S. government turned to the railroads to move those supplies for them.
Only, it turned out that the railroads also needed help.
The railroads aren't going to build by themselves.
The reason they're not going to build by themselves is there's nobody out there and no traffic.
You don't build a railroad into the middle of nowhere.
This isn't Field of Dreams.
You just hope they'll come if you build it.
Richard White is professor emeritus of history at Stanford and the author of the book Railroaded The Transcontinentals and the Making of Modern America.
So what you're going to do is you're going to have to get aid in building the railroad.
The federal government says we are going to prime the pump.
White says the United States was cash poor but land rich.
So the government gave the railroad companies long corridors of land up to 80 miles wide on which to build new rail lines.
The railroads could then sell or lease that land to whomever they could lure west, but the government only granted the railroads every other square mile of land, hence the checkerboard.
With the checkerboard, the government could keep all the undeveloped sections in between and wait for them to go up in value before turning around and selling them to more developers.
The new railways would also transport the soldiers needed to push Native Americans off the land the US had promised them, and onto reservations.
So this becomes a means of conquest.
And once it's there, once an Indian lands can be sold to build the railroads, then the railroads can become the agency for conquering any remaining Indian resistance.
So this is how the whole system works.
And in this way, it does become an agent of colonization.
Under this system, a lot of land changed hands.
And all over 130 million acres went to the railroads.
And to put that in perspective, if all the federal grants to railroads were combined into one state, if you called it Railroadiana, it would be the third largest state in the United States, behind Texas and Alaska.
One company alone, the Northern Pacific Railroad, received an amount of land roughly the size of New England.
And almost all of it was given away in alternating one-square-mile sections.
So the checkerboard on paper, this is a system is ideal.
What can possibly go wrong?
It seems to be foolproof.
But like most systems that seem to be foolproof, they're usually designed by fools.
And that's what's going to happen here.
When the railroads sold their land, it went to timber companies, it went to miners, it went to developers, but especially ranchers who saw a sort of two-for-one bargain on all that checkerboarded property.
All you had to do was buy the private squares and then fence off all the adjacent public squares, and they would effectively be yours for the keeping too.
By the 1880s, big cattle barons had fenced in millions of acres of land they didn't own.
But homesteaders and smaller-scale ranchers and farmers weren't happy about all that fence.
The fences block settlers because settlers have to be able to drive their wagons, get to railroad depots and they're blocked by fences.
The tension between settlers and ranchers quickly grew ugly.
There were standoffs, shootouts, murders.
Later on, dime novels, radio programs and television shows like Gunsmoke would dramatize this era known as the Range Wars.
Those cattlemen built this country, Matt.
A few more years, now they'll have us fenced out.
Times change, Ben.
In 1885, in an effort to curtail the power of the big ranchers, Congress finally stepped in and passed the Unlawful Enclosures Act, which guaranteed public access to public land.
You can still build fences around your own land.
You can control access if there hasn't been in the right of way established across your own land.
But you cannot enclose public land and you cannot enclose land that you do not own.
Today, the Unlawful Enclosures Act is still on the books.
But the act never did much to break up the ranches and other big properties of the western U.S.
And those large landowners never stopped looking for ways to secure their property, including in the checkerboard.
That part never seems to change.
So Jefferson's dream of this whole thing ending up as being small farms that is just simply not the case.
The West ends up as a place of very, very large land holdings.
And it still very much was when Brad and the hunters stepped from corner to corner of public land in 2020.
After that first hunting trip, they could easily have left and just never come back.
Why risk another awkward run-in?
But in the end, the hunting was just too good.
Plus, they'd spoken with law enforcement who told them they were good to go.
After all, the unlawful enclosures act was still in force.
So the following year, they went back to hunt Elk Mountain.
But this time, just to be on the safe side, they made one small adjustment to their corner crossing strategy.
The only thing that we had that the ranch complained about was that we touched their T-post.
So we just had to get past that T-post without touching it, and then there was nothing that they could say.
So that's where the whole ladder idea came in.
If they shouldn't touch the T-posts, then why not find a way to climb right over them?
What did you build?
How did you build the ladder?
This wouldn't be my solution necessarily.
I wouldn't think about building a ladder.
What goes into it?
Well, I guess maybe if you're a pole vaulter, you would take a pole vault with you.
I was a fence guy, so I had access to a lot of pipe and a welder, so...
Just went back there in the shop and welded some pipe together.
Brad fashioned together a ladder that unfolded to a specific height, length, and width.
The dimensions allowed it to go right over the T-posts and across the corner all without ever touching the ranch's property.
And when the hunters crossed using Brad's ladder, just like the time before, other than those T-posts there were no fences, no gates, no other infrastructure.
The hunters designed built, set up and climbed a specialized ladder to cross through empty airspace in an empty field, just so they could say that this time they were following the very letter of the law.
Carvin County Sheriff's Office.
Hi, this is Steven Grindy with Elk Mountain Ranch, again, calling.
We had an issue with some trespassers out here off Rattlesnake Pass in a canvas tent.
Not too long after the hunters got there, that same ranch manager from earlier, Steve Grindy, recognized their truck from the previous year.
He called local law enforcement agencies repeatedly.
Eventually, a sheriff's deputy and fish and game officer both showed up.
How's it going?
Chris.
Steve.
Here's the body cam footage.
Have you seen them corner fast?
Yeah, we just watched them.
I just watched them.
And it's posted.
I have signs right here too.
Jump this corner right here.
What they have is a ladder that they put down and go over.
Grendy's efforts to keep the hunters out of the public land went beyond phone calls to police.
At one point during the trip, Grendy poked his head in the hunter's tent and got escorted away by an officer.
Another time he tracked the hunters down in his truck, cursed them out and tailed them while they were hiking on a road that passes through public land.
And as the law enforcement officers giggled about the ladder in that body, cam footage.
A frustrated Grendy let this slip.
Do they realize how much money my boss has?
The ranch was owned by a pharmaceutical executive from North Carolina named Fred Eshelman.
I reached out to Eshelman and his lawyers for an interview.
Neither got back to me.
But we know Eshelman told the ranch manager to keep talking to the authorities until they could get the hunters prosecuted.
And eventually, Eshelman's strategy worked.
The county attorney charged Brad Phil and their hunting partners, John Slewinski and Zachary Smith, with criminal trespass and sent a sheriff's deputy to their campsite.
Again, here's the body cam footage.
All right, so just so it's not a surprise, you guys are all going to get cited for criminal trespass.
Not a surprise.
But we still don't understand why.
With this citation, the hunters were facing up to six months in jail, plus a big fine.
So in Wyoming, if you go past a private boundary or a marked area, it is considered trespass.
So Elk Mound Ranch is marked as no trespassing.
So that's what they're going to use is?
You guys went beyond the boundaries of the Elk Mountain Ranch.
But if I never touch Elk Mountain Ranch, you know, if I never touch the ranch, how did I trespass?
So this has been a point of contention in Wyoming for a long time.
Right.
So it's 20 miles north and south of the railroad is the checkerboard.
Right.
And it's been this way for a long time.
So hopefully you guys can come back and fight it.
When we come back, Brad and the other hunters do just that.
Stay with us.
And we're back with the story of America's public lands and whose checkerboard it really is.
When the Wyoming Sheriff's Office charged the hunters with criminal trespassing on Fred Eshelman's land, things might very easily have just ended there.
After all, at that point it really was just a matter of corner crossing in this one area, on this one ranch.
There were plenty of other places in the country they could go hunt elk.
You know we went back and forth contemplating whether we were going to just plead guilty, pay the
$750 or what it might be.
None of us were too concerned about the six month in jail type thing.
But although the stakes for Brad and Phil and the other hunters personally were low, the principal involved seemed like part of something bigger.
Starting with their belief that corner crossing to access public land which again is something hunters and other people do all the time is legal.
It's such a simple concept.
I got a six-year-old grandson.
I could point this to him very simply, and he would easily end up on the right side of this.
This is just smoke and mirrors to try and steal the public's land.
So they decided to lawyer up.
To win, they would need someone with experience representing both hunters and ranchers.
Someone who knew the laws, both spoken and unspoken, of the Mountain West.
Someone who knew the difference between a mock scrape and a rub line.
They needed, when it came down to it, a guy like them.
They got Ryan.
My name is Ryan Semerad.
I am an attorney in Casper.
Were you in tune with, I mean, were you a hunter, an angler?
Were you in tune with sort of public land issues in this case?
No, I have never hunted.
I think I have caught a fish once.
Ryan is originally from New York, not Wyoming, but his wife is from the area.
And when they wanted to have kids, they decided to move closer to her family.
And that's what brought us back to Wyoming.
And that is the only reason that I am here.
At first, Ryan had no idea what to make of the case.
They described it as a corner-hopping case.
I assumed and I was wrong, but I assumed that must have meant something really weird and rural, like a cow tipping case or something, or you left your neighbor's gate open.
I don't really know.
But Ryan talked to some local friends.
They told him, this is a big deal here and it has been for a long time.
They sent him a study and he learned that, although a lot of the original checkerboarded area had been bought up and consolidated into these single land holdings, today more than 8 million acres of public land across the Western US remain corner-locked.
That's an area of public land only slightly smaller than Switzerland, completely inaccessible to anyone except for landowners like Eshelman.
That's when it kind of dawned on me that this was maybe a bigger issue than just this one case.
So Ryan agreed to represent one of the hunters in the criminal trial, but he ended up representing all of them in civil court when he got noticed that Fred Eshelman, the owner of the ranch, had decided to sue the hunters too.
Eshelman argued that he had bought the ranch with an understanding that corner crossing was illegal.
Suddenly allowing it now would mean an influx of hunters and recreationists regularly trespassing on his private property.
The chaos, as he saw it, would effectively devalue the land.
The exact dollar amount he was suing for changed over time, but he put the total cost as high as 9 million.
What is the reaction you're hearing from Phil and Brad and the others when they hear that?
Yeah, well, I will tell you...
That was a pretty tough moment when you tell anybody, hey, you know, you have this exposure.
And especially these guys.
I mean, these are not pharmaceutical executives.
They are not billionaires.
$9 million, you know, that's financial apocalypse.
Although for two people facing financial apocalypse, Brad and Phil seemed pretty stoic about it.
Yeah, so...
I told you, I'm a truck mechanic.
Like, buddy, I don't know.
I guess my biggest concern was, you know, I want to make sure my wife we still have a home, but I guess if he wants my 2013 Silverado, I guess he can take it.
If anything, Eshelman had sued them for too much money for it to have the desired effect.
Phil thought $9 million was laughable.
Brad, too.
That dollar amount was so outrageous.
If he would have said a couple hundred thousand, that would have scared me.
But in the millions, you know, it just wasn't a realistic number.
But Eshelman wasn't deterred.
He just kept applying more pressure.
I've never seen this happen before.
It kind of shocks me is, while we were waiting for that criminal trial to begin, for the jury selection to begin, jurors are filing in court staff are filing in.
My guys are all sitting there and a sheriff's deputy walks up to each of them and issues them one more citation in front of the jury.
So another ticket, another criminal charge, this time for that first crossing back in 2020, a whole year before the ordeal they thought they were being tried for
So, yeah, that's when we first learned about that.
And I kind of looked at Ryan.
I said, well, what do you want?
What do I do with this?
He said, throw it in the trash.
And that's how the trial began.
All right, court's back in session.
The matter before the court is the state of Wyoming versus Bradley Cape, John Slowinski, Philip Yeomans and Zachary Smith.
In the criminal trial, the state's lawyers argued that even if the hunters didn't set foot on private land when they ballerinated over the T-posts in 2020 or climbed over them in 2021, they passed through air itself.
That's owned by the ranch.
Being a property owner has value.
It matters.
So do boundaries.
And in Wyoming, the law is you don't just own the ground, you don't own the earth, you own the airspace.
How many of you knew that before you came here?
Ryan's defense consisted of a few different points.
But basically, it came down to this idea that the hunters never physically trespassed.
Plus, they had air and land rights, too.
Only in their case, it was the right of access to public land.
Government can't take away your land without compensating.
That's a take.
But just so, private landowners can't take the public land.
It's not theirs.
It's all of ours.
And as the trial wore on, something else was happening.
All sorts of other people started to take notice, including hunters and environmentalists, who have been struggling with checkerboard enclosures for years, but also hikers, bicyclists and fishermen who, thanks to new GPS mapping apps, could now see the full extent of the checkerboard and all that inaccessible public land.
Journalists got interested, too.
Even before the trials had ended, the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Wall Street Journal all ran features about the four hunters from Missouri, their little ladder and corner crossings.
Hunting and public lands advocacy groups rallied members, raising money for the defense.
And for those paying attention the case became about something larger than just this one little square in Wyoming.
It was about public access to public land all over the country.
The significance of it, the millions of acres, the corner-locked land, it's public land.
That's what it is.
It belongs to the public.
Yeah, it belongs to everybody.
And it shouldn't be monopolized.
I live in Montana, where there's a lot of public land and also lots of checkerboarded country.
Even here, more than 500 miles from where Brad and Phil crossed, their case made waves.
I ran into a guy in a yoga class not too long ago wearing a Corner Crossing is Not a Crime t-shirt.
So you get to a point where you can't back out.
It's a moral thing.
It's all of that, right?
And that's why it became bigger than us.
And while the social status of the case got bigger, the legal stakes climbed too.
The Hunters won at both trials, but the civil case ended up before the U.S.
Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals.
The Tenth Circuit is based in Denver and oversees six western states.
This wasn't a small one-off case any longer, or even a case just setting the precedent in Wyoming.
The Circuit Court had the power to settle whether corner crossing was legal in all six of those states.
The outcome would decide who got effective access to a huge amount of public land.
And it was Eshelman's side, now backed up by a bunch of other landowners that had appealed to the Tenth Circuit.
They were the ones who wanted to go big.
Ryan told me what he thought that meant.
They have this kind of imperial intent that it's our lands, the lands they bought, and all of these public lands too.
That's really what this case is about.
They're going to shut out the public from the public lands.
So May 2024, you're in Denver.
Have you made arguments in front of a circuit court before?
No, the very first time.
Looks like everybody's ready to go.
With that, let's call the first case, which is 23-8043 Ironbar Holdings versus Tate.
You may proceed.
Good morning, Your Honors.
May it please the court.
The morning of the Tenth Circuit hearing, an armada of well-respected attorneys showed up representing Eshelman.
And since Eshelman's side brought the suit, they went first.
Some of the arguments had more or less stayed the same from the criminal trial.
But now things got more nuanced.
Eshelman's team argued that private property is a building block of society.
Property lines have sharp edges. because of the consequences of eroding them.
So there's practical implications of this case that I want to address.
The gist of their argument was what Eshelman had maintained all along, that whatever high ideals we might have about public lands, the on-the-ground reality was that legalizing corner crossing would be an invitation for chaos.
In places without government survey markers and there often aren't any people would start to accidentally trespass all the time if corner crossing was legalized.
But also, there was no need to permit corner crossing.
The government already had better tools at its disposal to resolve the problems created by the checkerboard.
All of this can be fixed by the government tomorrow.
If the government wants to create access, just as they have gone from 150 million acres of originally locked land today, less than 9 million remains.
They are making progress.
And that's true.
Although those last 9 million acres have proven tricky to eradicate, there are various mechanisms for erasing the private squares in the checkerboard or just letting the public pass through.
Eshelman's side argued there's no need to override all that policy for the sake of some elk-hungry hunters.
If anything, this is a question for the legislature and local agencies, not the courts.
Meanwhile, Brad and Phil and the other hunters were streaming the proceedings from Missouri.
They didn't attend the oral arguments in person.
When you watched it, did you guys get together?
Did you watch it separately?
No, we watched it separate.
We all work.
May it please the court, Ryan Summer after the employees.
When it was Ryan's turn to speak, Brad and Phil could both tell, as they listened in, that Ryan's core arguments were also much the same as in that first trial.
You can't exploit the interlocking land pattern to deny everybody else the benefits while you reap them all.
But this one moment toward the end of the hearing stood out to them both.
For me it was when and I don't remember the judge's name he said yeah, I don't believe our Congress intended, when they wrote the laws and this checkerboard pattern was first made, they didn't intend it to block the public.
If you look back at when the railroads were going across, Congress said we want to give the railroads half the land and the public half the land.
Did Congress really intend?
The judge asked for the public to have no real right to the land from their half of the deal.
If somebody had just posed the question that way to Congress, I have no doubt how they would have answered that question.
This past March, nearly a year after the oral arguments in Denver, the U.S.
10th Circuit Court of Appeals issued its opinion on the case of Ironbar Holdings v. Cape.
That day, Ryan was in court in Wyoming.
So I try to rush back to the office and I print off the opinion and I sit down to read it.
And just what am I about to read?
And as I read it, it was just, it was perfect.
In many ways, the opinion was everything Ryan and Brad and the other hunters had argued for since the very beginning.
The court laid out the history of the West the railroads, the checkerboard grants, the enclosures, the range wars.
It explained how the land is supposed to work.
The opinion said these public lands in the West, they're for everyone.
And that's who they were always for.
So we win.
Corner crossing is not a trespass in all six states.
The Tenth Circuit's decision won't bring total closure.
After Eshelman's team appealed again, the U.S.
Supreme Court refused to take up the case.
Which means that, for now at least, the status of corner crossing and public land access in the other 44 states remains murky.
The last time I met up with Brad and Phil, they were passing through where I live on their way to their big annual Western hunting trip, this time in Montana.
Here we're in the Ninth Circuit, along with other Western states with lots of checkerboarded land, like Idaho, Oregon and Washington.
Montana's Fish and Game Agency has said corner crossing remains unlawful here, so don't do it.
But other authorities in the state disagree and the issue remains as unclear as ever.
It's unlikely Brad and Phil will be involved in whatever comes next.
The whole saga has already taken up four years of their lives, and that, they said, was enough.
But talking with them I could tell they're a little bit bummed.
The Supreme Court didn't take up the case.
The way they see it, there's still more locked up land that needs to be freed.
You could never dream in a million years that you would end up here over something so simple as making one step.
Yeah, you know, we didn't set out to do this.
You know, we just wanted to go hunt elk.
Would you guys ever corner cross again?
Absolutely, absolutely.
We put in now every year since, I believe, for Elk Mountain.
Yes, we're going back.
We don't know when, but we're going back.
Why do you want to go back so bad?
I think because we can.
99% Invisible was reported this week by Nick Mott and edited by Joe Rosenberg.
Mixed by Martin Gonzalez.
Music by Swan Real.
Fact-checking by Graham Haysha.
Special thanks this week to Savannah Tate-Wright, Aula Kuziz, and Melody Starr-Edwards.
Kathy Tuber is our executive producer.
Kurt Kolstad is the digital director.
Delaney Hall is our senior editor.
The rest of the team includes Chris Berube, Jason DeLeon, Emmett Fitzgerald, Christopher Johnson, Vivian Leigh, Lajma Dawn Kelly Prime, Jacob Medina-Gleason, Talon and Rain Stradley, and me, Roman Mars.
The 99% Invisible logo was created by Stephan Lawrence.
We are part of the SiriusXM podcast family, now headquartered six blocks north in the Pandora building in beautiful Uptown Oakland, California.
You can find us on all the usual social media sites as well as our own Discord server.
There's a link to that as well as every past episode of 99PI at 99pi.org.
