BIG TIMBER - After four decades with the U.S. Forest Service, Mary Erickson is used to working in the grey areas, places where land, history and public expectation don’t always align.
But few issues in her long career have matched the complexity or controversy of the Crazy Mountains land exchange.
Watch Erickson discuss the Crazies:
As part of our continuing series on the East Crazy Mountain Land Exchange, we’re hearing from the many voices at the center of this complicated debate. The proposed deal has sparked deep divisions over questions of public access, private property rights, and the future of the Crazy Mountain range itself. Through these stories, we aim to give you a fuller picture of the stakes and the passions surrounding the Crazies.
“I was probably 47 when I arrived here,” Erickson recalls. “When the Forest Service takes on a land exchange, we don’t say, ‘Is this in the best interest of the landowner?’ We say, ‘Is there enough public interest in this?’”
That question guided her work on one of Montana’s most contentious land swaps, finalized in 2024 after years of negotiation.
Known as the East Crazy Inspiration Divide land exchange, the deal traded 10 Forest Service parcels for 11 private ones—unlocking more than 2,200 acres of public land, consolidating 30 miles of fragmented territory, and paving the way for a new 40-mile trail system.
Critics have called the deal a giveaway to private interests. But for Erickson, who retired just before it was finalized, it was a hard-won agreement with deep roots.
“In particular for the Sweet Grass drainage, these are families that go back to the 1800s. They go back decades,” she says. “That has been permissive since the ‘70s, so people may be frustrated that the Forest Service didn’t defend that, but that ship sailed decades ago.”
Watch the debate over the Crazies:
A Controversial Partnership
The deal might have stalled altogether if not for the involvement of a powerful new player: the Yellowstone Club, a luxury private resort in Big Sky backed by billionaires and celebrities.
“They actually had the time and ability to pay a third-party group, Western Lands Group, that has experience with lands and land exchanges,” Erickson said. “They had the time to meet with all the landowners, to pore over maps and go back and forth.”
That partnership helped unlock previously inaccessible areas, including Smeller Lake.
“They had Smeller Lake and, in this exchange, they donated that parcel, which for us was huge. There wasn’t guaranteed public access to Smeller Lake. It’s in the high country,” Erickson says.
Involving the Yellowstone Club, whose past land swaps have drawn scrutiny, sparked public distrust.
When asked if she regrets bringing the club to the table, Erickson responds:
“You know I don’t, but I have thought about it. Because in my mind, the Yellowstone Club came in as a partner and partnered with landowners and worked with the Forest Service to put forth a proposal.”
Historic Trails and Legal Battles
Despite its benefits, the deal did not resolve all disputes, particularly over historic trails in the Sweet Grass drainage, a long-contested area where public access crosses private land.
For decades, routes in this area appeared on Forest Service maps, fueling public use and growing tension with landowners.
In 2019, that tension boiled over into a federal lawsuit. Advocacy groups, including Friends of the Crazy Mountains and Montana Backcountry Hunters and Anglers, sued the Forest Service, accusing the agency of failing to protect four historic trails.
The lawsuit alleged the Forest Service had long managed those trails, but in 2017 quietly stopped maintaining them and began private talks with landowners, allowing gates, cameras, and sign-in requirements to take hold—effectively erasing the public’s legal rights.
“You can’t just look at acre for acre on a map with green squares,” said John Sullivan with Backcountry Hunters and Anglers. “You got to look at the quality of the habitat that is involved.”
“In the case of the East Crazies land swap, the public gave up a lot of low country, high quality and with high levels of biodiversity, with wildlife, with water,” he said. “For the higher country, what a lot of people refer to as the rock and ice portions of the Crazies.”
Sullivan continued: “If you’re an elk hunter, that is not a huge benefit to the public. Even though it’s consolidated, if all the land that you traded is up high and you don’t have any elk on it and there’s no biodiversity—what is the benefit to the Crazies?”
The lawsuit was dismissed, with a federal judge ruling the Forest Service had no legal obligation to defend those public trails.
That decision was upheld on appeal in 2024, effectively closing the case, but not the controversy.
A Landscape of Tension
For many Montanans, the Crazy Mountains remain a patchwork of conflicting claims: part public, part private and historically disputed.
Locked gates, “No Trespassing” signs, and surveillance cameras now dot what were once familiar routes.
The Forest Service maintains it had no legal easement on the Sweet Grass trails, and landowners continue to allow permissive access.
The land swap, they argue, provides a clear path forward by consolidating trails with more reliable public use agreements.
Yet for critics like Sullivan, what was lost matters just as much as what was gained.
Mary Erickson understands that frustration but hopes the deal will stand the test of time.
“Land exchanges are best judged over time,” she says. “They’re often judged through the lens of history.”
And while the battles over access and ownership in the Crazy Mountains aren’t likely to end soon, Erickson is certain of one thing: The exchange reflects years of negotiation, compromise, and a sincere effort to do right by the public.
“Moving from something that’s controversial and where everyone is at odds to moving to trying to resolve it,” she says, “always feels good to me.”
Editor’s note: This is part two of our Crazy Mountain Land Exchange series. Next, we’ll hear from the grassroots Crazy Mountain Working Group, which helped launch early negotiations behind the deal.
