Atlanta controls the fate of massive north Georgia airport tract

<p>Kurt Krattinger doesn't mess around when it comes to the environment.</p><p>This is a guy who brakes for butterflies, after all. "It's a slaughter," he says as he maneuvers his Firebird around a flutter of yellow wings. "Butterflies are dying by the thousand. They can't even make it across the road."</p><p>His attention shifts quickly to another type of encroachment.</p><p>Three miles outside Krattinger's property are 10,000 acres owned by the city of Atlanta, where a showdown is brewing over the future of the forested land.</p><p>Decades ago, anxious Atlanta officials snatched up the land 49 miles to the north in Dawson County just in case the then-tiny airport couldn't expand and needed a backstop. Since then, the city's main airport has grown into the world's busiest, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International, and the Atlanta Regional Commission determined in 1990 that the Dawson County site was too hilly to build a runway.</p><p>While the land may not be used for an airport, it could be ripe for development by suburbanites hungry for second homes _ and that has environmentalists like Krattinger preparing to challenge any plans like that for the massive tract.</p><p>"We've got so much to lose here," says Krattinger, a burly Bill Murray look-alike.</p><p>Atlanta City Councilwoman Clair Muller, who leads the city's transportation committee, says there are no immediate plans to do anything with the land, which puts Dawsonville officials in a strange position: A powerful city an hour down the road controls the fate of a huge piece of land in their backyard.</p><p>"Atlanta probably sees it as a golden egg they can cash in when the time is right," said Kim Cornelison, the Dawsonville city clerk.</p><p>What Atlanta chooses to do with the land is a constant topic of debate in Dawsonville. Will Atlanta sell it to developers or try to hang onto it for years to come? Will the state take over the land and foster it as a park?</p><p>"It's their property and they spent a lot of money on that property," said state Rep. Amos Amerson, R-Dahlonega. "I can't condemn them if they do, in fact, want to sell it. And I don't know whether or not the state would want to buy it. There's just so many competing factions out there for state money these days."</p><p>Krattinger, 47, is hoping lawmakers will at least establish a 100-foot buffer on each side of the Etowah River, which runs through the property, and declare the river corridor a scenic area.</p><p>He trailblazes down a secluded path alongside the river, kicking up dirt in his wake _ and decrying each piece of litter he finds. He's been known to retrieve the skins of dead snakes, which he hangs on his wall at home, where he'll eagerly tell visitors the story of each. ("This corn snake got killed in the road. The king snake here I found dead in a subdivision.")</p><p>About 50 feet below the trail, dozens of species of fish wade along the lazy river. Walking in the rich forestland, birds chirp loudly amid the occasional howls of a wandering coyote. Locals say a mountain lion might even be on the prowl, although Krattinger hasn't seen it yet.</p><p>"We're in the middle of nowhere," Krattinger said. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could leave it that way?"</p>

http://accesswdun.com/article/2005/9/138719