Inflammatory rhetoric is all the rage in water wars. A recent Review-Journal article began:

"Many consider it the most disastrous water exportation project in American history, an entire valley laid to waste to quench the thirst of a growing city 250 miles away."

This paragraph topped one of many stories about recent state hearings on a Southern Nevada Water Authority plan to move groundwater from White Pine County to the Las Vegas Valley through a multibillion-dollar pipeline. The paragraph refers to the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power's Owens Valley project, begun early last century.

Having lived in the Owens Valley about 25 years ago, I began to wonder what had happened to the beautiful place that my wife and I adored during our brief residence. So I made a pilgrimage through Montgomery Pass in Mineral County last week to see what I could see.

When I crested the last hill overlooking the Owens Valley, I was shocked to find the town of Bishop, the Owens River and the valley much as I remembered it: lush foliage, high desert brush and other plants in abundance, full streams with anglers on the banks pursuing lunker trout, recreational vehicles in great numbers and pickups loaded with camping and hunting gear. It was the same place where I was happy to reside, made a good living and dreamed of someday raising kids to attend good schools.

Still, there is clear evidence that the area is not what it was in the 19th century, before the Department of Water and Power arrived, especially if you travel farther down the valley. A sun-baked landscape sits where Owens Lake dried up.

But what do the locals think of their "entire valley laid to waste"?

"The battles over water have changed our valley in many ways, no argument there," said Tawni Thomson, executive director of the Bishop Chamber of Commerce. "But to describe our areas as a 'wasteland' or 'raped landscape' is absolutely unfair. Those terms imply lack of life, absence of color, uselessness. As you know, Bishop and the Owens Valley are beautiful, thriving and very alive."

Thomson hit the nail on the head. From pictures of award-winning fish and game on the walls of Jack's Waffle Shop and The Meat House, the area obviously takes great pride in its outdoor activities. But you don't have to be a fisherman or hunter to make such an observation.

"Thousands of sightseers and photographers recently converged on Bishop to view the fall colors in the Bishop Creek Drainage," according to Thomson. "Several world-class landscape and wildlife photographers and artists have chosen to make Bishop their home base so that they can be close to their subjects.

"These are true, unexaggerated facts -- not inflammatory statements made in the midst of a heated argument."

You might claim that Thomson has both an ax to grind as well as a job to do. After all, it is her goal to get people to come to the Owens Valley.

Just like it is for officials at the Lone Pine Chamber of Commerce a few miles south on U.S. Highway 395. They promote everything imaginable in their area, including a well-supported and well-attended annual film festival. And if there were no water supply, they could not promote the Mount Whitney State Fish Hatchery, where "the grounds of the hatchery resemble an old European country estate with lush vegetation that is kept immaculate year-round."

The next stop south is the Inyo County seat, Independence. On its Web site, visitors are told of the charms of fishing, hunting, backpacking and hiking. Perhaps you have heard of the nearby Pacific Crest/John Muir Trail or the Sequoia Kings Pack Trains, said to be the "oldest continuing pack outfit in the High Sierra, entering into its third century."

Back in Bishop, I preferred to let my eyes be the judge. There are still the meandering waters that flow through town, including the Owens River and smaller creeks. There are ducks in the town park and all over the grounds of the Creekside Inn across the street. Squirrels and other small animals live happily with their human co-residents everywhere, especially the well-maintained town park.

Most of all, there are the trees. Green in the summer, golden in the fall.

Politics is politics, and beauty is beauty. On my visit to the Owens Valley, there was no "entire valley laid to waste" to be found.

Bill Roberts is a veteran journalist in Tonopah. His column appears Wednesday. Contact him at broberts@reviewjournal.com.