Montana blacksmith battles procedural roadblocks for greater property rights protections

Wil Wilkins is a master of what he calls the “forgotten arts”—stonemasonry, timber framing, and blacksmithing.

From his home workshop, FireSong Forge, Wil crafts everything from chandeliers to windows to drawer pulls, exquisite creations that attract the likes of the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs, Ralph Lauren, and Harrison Ford.

Wil’s handiwork also reflects a deep communion with nature, fed by his ardent conservationism and the nine acres of peaceful, pine-filled land tucked next to Montana’s Bitterroot National Forest where he’s lived since 2004.

“I can stand in my front yard and see the mountain ridges. Above it all is a snow-capped granite mountain peak,” he says, referring Trapper Peak, towering at 10,000 feet a mere 17 miles from his home. “It’s my ideal of the perfect place to live.”

Things turned less than ideal, however, when the government failed to keep its word about a road easement that crosses his private property and the courts failed to properly hear his case. So, Wil fought back all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

The U.S. Forest Service and prior landowners negotiated the easement in 1962 for the express purpose of timber harvesting in the nearby Bitterroot National Forest.

Under the terms of the easement, the public was never supposed to use the road. This was yet another big selling point for Wil—the tranquil surroundings would help him cope with PTSD stemming from his Vietnam-era military service.

The peace didn’t last. In 2006, the Forest Service posted a sign advertising the road as public access to the national forest. This even though there’s a wider, better-maintained road to the same part of the forest just a few miles from Wil’s property.

The public quickly obliged. Vehicles began roaring up and down the road and parking along the road. The traffic hazards were accompanied by trespassing, illegal hunting, noise, and theft. A speeding driver killed a neighbor’s dog, and someone even shot Wilkins’ cat (Mr. Kitty survived).

Fed up with the danger and disruptions, Wil went to the Forest Service for help and was assured that the easement had not changed and that a new Travel Management Plan in the works would straighten everything out.

After eight years of sluggish bureaucracy, the agency finalized a new plan that kept the road open to the public—with complete disregard for the original agreement.

“The Forest Service made a promise. It’s right there in the plain text of this agreement. And now, it thinks it can just not honor its agreement,” Wil says.

Subsequent discussions with the Forest Service went nowhere, until one memorable exchange between Wil and a district ranger.

“He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, looked at me, and started laughing,” recalls Wil. “He said, ‘Wil, you can always sue us.’ I said to myself, ‘OK, I will.’”

But when Wil sued, the court dismissed his case without even hearing his side. Instead, without any testimony or evidence from Wil, the court merely echoed the government’s claim that he was too late under the federal Quiet Title Act’s12-year statute of limitations for such property disputes.

Courts’ sole reliance on the government’s word is an all-too-common procedural tactic to keep property rights disputes out of court. This practice essentially banishes property rights to second-class status, among other constitutional protections, such as free speech and fair trials.

“It’s so infuriating for me,” Wil says. “In my world, when I go up in the woods and up on the mountains, my life depends on what I do. Here, the government is bigger than me, and it’s going to do whatever it wants to do.”

“I’m not asking for anything to be changed. I’m not asking for special treatment. I am just asking that the United States government fulfill its obligations,” he adds.

Wil was running out of money—and hope—when he found PLF. After one conversation with PLF attorney Jeff McCoy, he felt relief.

“Jeff saw right through the government and said, ‘They’re trying to wear you down,’” he recalls. “Then Jeff said, ‘If you don’t fold, we will fight this.’”

Reenergized to fight and represented at no charge by PLF, Wil fought for four years just to get the courts to hear his case. His relentlessness finally paid off at the Supreme Court, which heard Wilkins v. United States on November 30. Jeff argued on Wil’s behalf, telling the Justices that Congress passed the Quiet Title Act to give people like Wil the ability to protect their property rights against the federal government, not to prevent property owners from defending their rights in court.

“I believe the Justices understood our argument, that courts must consider both sides of a property rights dispute and not just take the government’s word whether a case should proceed,” says Jeff. “Courts cannot automatically treat property rights disputes between the government and landowners as Government v. Nobody.”

He adds that a win in Wilkins would mean a new beginning for Wil—he finally gets his day in court—and greater property rights protections for landowners across the country.

“Wil’s willingness to spend so much time and energy fighting for what’s right for all Americans is an inspiration to everyone at PLF. I look forward to continuing to work for him and vindicate his rights,” he says.

“I’m not going to let the government run me out of here,” declares Wil. “This isn’t about me and my little road anymore. This is about millions of Americans. I’m taking this one to the mat because I know I’m right. The government has to be held accountable.”