The watchdogs: After Wisconsin landowners discover plans to spread pig manure without consent, critics call for stronger oversight

This story was originally published by Wisconsin Watch. It is the final story in a three-part series called Hogtied, which examines the political, regulatory and economic forces shaping a proposal to build the state’s largest pig farm. Read the first and second stories.

Tim Schmitz spent his first winter in Trade Lake, Wisconsin, settling into the farmhouse he just bought.

The retired handyman sought a reprieve from the noise of his former Minnesota town: Forest Lake, a fast-growing Twin Cities exurb.

After locating his tawny clapboard-clad farmstead on Facebook Marketplace, Schmitz, 63, visited Trade Lake and noticed the roadside signs.

“No factory hog farm,” they said. “The Saint Croix Watershed is not a sacrifice zone.” “No Hog CAFO,” a banner blared.

Schmitz thought nothing of it. His seller had said the CAFO feud had simmered for years — not to worry.

Then a resident of a nearby village informed Schmitz his 5-acre property sat in the thick of it all: next door to the possible site of Wisconsin’s largest swine breeding farm. 

Schmitz’s breathing is impaired from a past lung infection. Now, he was discovering fields surrounding his new home were designated to be periodically injected with pig manure — two of his own acres included. Nobody had told him a swine farm was coming to this location or that his land previously was rented for farming. 

“No way, how could this possibly be?” Schmitz thought. 

Almost four years earlier, Schmitz’s neighbors discovered a concentrated animal feeding operation, or CAFO, was destined for Trade Lake. The $20 million livestock farm, known as Cumberland LLC, could have housed more than 26,000 pigs.

Residents and property owners attempted to stop it. Several sued their town chairman after they discovered he was selling land to Cumberland and cried foul on the developer, who they allege provided false information to the state.

Wisconsin laws limited options to fight the proposal. But after the town chairman left office, an advisory group devised a model ordinance to regulate how CAFOs operate. Trade Lake was among five municipalities that adopted recommended operations rules.

Cumberland’s critics found an additional tack for stalling the swine farm: preventing land use for spreading the millions of gallons of manure it would generate annually.

State rules require CAFO owners to have a sufficient land base on which to apply livestock manure, but several property owners, who had permitted use of their fields for farming,  discovered the developer designated them for manure spreading without obtaining consent. They informed the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources they opposed the proposed fertilizer source.

In March, Wisconsin Watch verified the discrepancies were more pronounced than opponents initially understood. Owners of more than 11% of the designated spreading acres forbid the use of their properties. Several Cumberland critics called the inclusion of unauthorized land the latest deception they have encountered since the farm was pitched.

The practice might extend beyond Cumberland. Those who call for greater regulation say the occurrences reveal a gap in oversight with potentially dire environmental consequences.

Manure volume sparks alarm

The DNR has twice rejected Cumberland’s application amid local scrutiny. 

The developer again returned in May, proposing a scaled-down version of the breeding facility that would house up to 19,800 pigs.

At full capacity, the three-barn facility could annually generate 6.8 million gallons of manure and wastewater, roughly equivalent to the daily output of a 38,000-person city. 

The pigs’ manure would fall through slotted floors into deep pits before being pumped and applied to farm fields. Unlike human waste, manure largely goes untreated or is minimally treated before its discharge into the environment, according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

The original proposal stated Cumberland possessed agreements for 1,846 acres of farmland atop which the liquids would be spread or injected into the soil in the spring before planting and the fall after harvest, six to eight days each month. Also to be added to the fields were 20 tons of solid waste, derived from incinerated hogs, stillbirths and placentas.

Tyler Dix, Wisconsin’s CAFO permit coordinator, received a continuous trickle of emails following Cumberland’s initial application in 2019, punctuated by deluges as milestones approached. Writers ranged from the outraged to the dismayed.

“You have been given an immense responsibility to make a decision that could keep our water clean and preserve life, or jeopardize the lives of an entire community,” wrote Trade Lake resident Judi Clarin, 62.

Livestock farms like Cumberland are subject to federal and state discharge and runoff regulations. An engineering firm hired by former Trade Lake board members in 2019 determined the facility itself poses minimal risk to groundwater given the depth to bedrock at the site. But opponents fear the manure spread on fields will run into nearby lakes and streams — ultimately draining into the St. Croix River, which forms part of a national scenic riverway.

Some spreading fields in the original plan are adjacent to or within a protected wildlife area, about 1 ½ miles from Cumberland.

Wisconsin has established guidelines for manure application, but Cumberland’s critics feel enforcement falls short. The state often relies on self-reporting and citizen complaints to catch improper spreading.

Market pressures, meanwhile, incentivize manure overapplication, particularly on fields near the farm where it’s generated, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. That increases the risks of runoff, surface and groundwater contamination, spread of pathogens, algae blooms and fish kills.

Cumberland’s developer, Jeff Sauer, has said that concerns over manure get “blown out of proportion.” Farmers call it “liquid gold” because it adds nutrients, such as nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium, to fields, sometimes at lesser expense than commercial fertilizer, and improves soil structure and composition. Trade Lake farmer Erik Melin, 38, whose fields would receive Cumberland’s manure, says its effects on water quality wouldn’t differ from the commercial fertilizer that’s already applied to the land.

Landowners: Don’t spread on me

Multiple area property owners alerted DNR staff to errors in Cumberland’s field spreading list, noting their lack of authorization.

The state can reject a nutrient management plan if it contains inaccurate information, Dix said, but the agency typically works with applicants to obtain accurate details.

Wisconsin Watch verified that at least 11 of 39 landowners listed in Cumberland’s plan, excluding Melin and his family, were not contacted. Some hadn’t decided if they would consent, while many objected to manure application.

“My wife would probably divorce me if the whole place smelled like pig shit,” said Twin Cities software engineering manager John Rivera. “I’m a hard ‘no’ on that.”

Rivera, who grew up in Burnett County and intends to retire there, guessed he has rented land to the Melins for at least 20 years.

Those who would refuse manure outright owned about 217 of the 1,894 designated acres.

Another 20 property owners could not be reached for lack of available contact information or did not respond to requests for comment. The remaining landlords didn’t mind or supported manure spreading on their fields.

DNR staff grew alarmed as additional landowners discovered they were unwittingly included in a project they opposed. Even agency property located inside a state wildlife area was included in the plan without approval.

Sauer, who said he is now the project’s owner, denied involvement. Rather, Melin generated the list, consisting of acres owned by or rented to him.

“I wish I would have maybe went and talked and tried to track down a lot of these landlords,” Melin said. “But when this first started, Jeff came and tried to talk to everybody at a town hall meeting. We were open about everything.”

The department required Cumberland to provide written verification of land rental agreements, but after the deadline passed in March, it still had not received the documentation. 

The agency ultimately rejected Cumberland’s application the following week for lack of a complete nutrient management plan, and Dix called Sauer to update him.

“He was quite upset and questioned my credentials and DNR’s authority to impose application deadlines,” Dix told a superior. “It was a colorful conversation.”

Opponents in other counties call for field verification

Opponents say the Cumberland case reveals the ease with which CAFO operators can list fields for manure application without permission. The state takes testimony of land agreements at face value unless there is information to suggest otherwise.

Typically, spreading fields are examined for overlaps with other CAFOs, permitted land spreading from municipalities and industrial plants, and public lands, but they are not compared against land agreements.

Opponents also identified field inconsistencies in large livestock farm proposals in Bayfield and Crawford counties and called for state verification.

Dix agreed that, generally speaking, the department might remain unaware of some errors in manure spreading plans, but added that by publishing them, the public can draw the attention of staff. Requiring verification would make the permitting process “a lot more straightforward,” Dix noted, but state rules circumscribe the agency’s authority.

Republican lawmakers in 2011 added bureaucratic hurdles to promulgating new rules. Among its provisions, the law prohibits any state agency from enforcing standards or requirements that aren’t explicitly permitted by law or another rule.

Former Democratic senator Kathleen Vinehout, of Alma, said field verification is a perennial problem, even 15 years ago when she took state office. The retired dairy farmer said the issue must be solved legislatively.

“If the people of Wisconsin really, really want to have this done — which I would think these landowners would be upset enough to want to do something — they need to contact their legislators,” she said.

Nearly a dozen lawmakers from both political parties who sit on the Wisconsin Senate or Assembly agriculture or environmental committees did not respond to or declined requests for comment related to the state’s verification policy.

Another CAFO application pending

Sauer returned in May with a new plan to reduce Cumberland’s swine capacity.

The DNR will not review Cumberland’s latest proposal until the company provides additional paperwork. In July, an engineer working with Cumberland attributed the delay to “payment issues with the client.”

Sauer told Wisconsin Watch he doesn’t know when he will submit the remaining documentation, but said the project is moving ahead and the necessary spreading acreage has been acquired.

Schmitz, whose land was included in Cumberland’s spreading plan, is waiting with trepidation.

From his yard, he can see the fields where his new neighbor might locate.

Schmitz doubts he’ll stay in Trade Lake if the state approves Cumberland — if he can sell his home, where all of his money is tied up.

“This was supposed to be ‘the place,’ you know?” Schmitz said. “I don’t know that I feel that way anymore.”

This story is a product of the Mississippi River Basin Ag & Water Desk, an editorially independent reporting network based at the University of Missouri School of Journalism in partnership with Report For America and funded by the Walton Family Foundation. Wisconsin Watch is a member of the network. Sign up for our newsletter to get our news straight to your inbox.

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