Mountains of trash, much of it shipped in from other states, is serious business. Yet the state House is treating the issue like another stroll in the park. It's not.

The General Assembly last year put a temporary halt to new landfills after private firms proposed building four mega-dumps in eastern and southern counties. That moratorium expires today. Instead of a comprehensive bill addressing the regional dumps, the House this week approved a gutted bill that invites confusion and provides minimal oversight.

The House version originally was identical to a Senate bill, which takes the kind of comprehensive approach that's needed. Legislation passed by the Senate would identify ecologically fragile areas around which new landfills could not be built. Beyond that, it would require environmental studies for a proposed dump, to determine if human health or the area's ecology might be harmed. The House measure also would require an environmental impact study. But why allow a dump near a wildlife preserve to be considered in the first place, and then force neighbors and state agencies to go through the arduous study process?

The House also stripped from its bill a requirement that garbage companies maintain a clean-up fund to be tapped in case their landfill fails or closes. If a clean-up is necessary, companies should get the bill. The Senate approach, which has that feature, is smart policy and it treats taxpayers fairly.

Much of the pressure to water down the regulations has come from solid waste companies whose plans would turn North Carolina into one of the nation's top five importers of garbage and debris. The Black Bear landfill in Camden County in far northeastern North Carolina would become home to three million tons of trash a year, most of it from out of state, piled into a mini-mountain 270 feet high. The landfill surely would be visible from afar in the table-flat Camden landscape. What a scenic lure for travelers coming down from Virginia on busy U.S. 17.

The Alligator River dump in coastal Hyde County would accept 900,000 tons a year; Riegel Ridge in Columbus County would take in a half million tons annually. Owners have dropped for the moment a proposal for a landfill in Scotland County whose capacity would have been 1.5 million tons a year. These counties all could use the jobs a landfill would bring, but not without careful conditions.

North Carolina has become attractive to the solid waste trade because the state is centrally located on the eastern seaboard, rural land is cheap, and the state doesn't levy a landfill surcharge as some states do. In a similar way, the factory-style hog industry discovered Eastern North Carolina 15 years or so ago. The lack of regulation on swine farming led to a series of stubborn and expensive problems for the state's people and its environment. There's no reason to let history repeat itself.

Another virtue of the Senate legislation is that it includes a tax on trash put into landfills. Part of the $1.50-per-ton fee would finance recycling programs in this state, and the money would also help clean up outmoded, unlined landfills. North Carolina cities would pay the fee as well, but in return would get help improving their recycling programs.

With the Senate reported ready to reject the House version of the bill, legislators from both sides will try to resolve their differences. North Carolina cannot allow itself to go forward without strong landfill regulations in place, and senators must work to avoid a compromise that would put the state at risk over the long haul.