The River Remembers - the Greatest River Restoration Story on Earth
- Susan Norman
- Jul 18
- 6 min read
Updated: Jul 23
Standing on the side of the Klamath River in sight of its confluence with the Pacific Ocean, my eyes strained to see paddlers emerge from the thick rolling fog. I had come specifically for this moment, to bear witness to two dozen young team members of Paddle Tribal Waters, as they completed their first descent of 310 miles of the recently undammed Klamath River.
For some time, I have been vicariously following this historic endeavor of river restoration through the removal of four dams and reservoirs, which over the course of 100 years have had catastrophic impacts on water quality and salmon fisheries in the Klamath River. Although dam removal was accomplished through the cooperative efforts of many local, state, and federal government agencies, the powerful beating heart of this effort came from decades of tribal leadership.
This heart has been carried by multiple generations, and what I came to witness today was the historic achievement of the first generation of tribal whitewater paddlers (between the ages of 14 and 20), and the future leaders of Klamath River stewardship.
I hastily slipped on my sunglasses to hide tears that involuntarily sprang from my eyes, as a long line of kayaker silhouettes slowly emerged from the fog.
I was surprised by my reaction. I have not been significantly involved in this effort, other than following media reports and donating modest sums to the Paddle Tribal Waters program, including donating a few copies of 'RISK' for the silent art auction later that day.
But I know the power of the river and paddle sport to change lives, and I was bearing witness to a powerful representation of that phenomenon.
As I describe in my memoir, my family fell off the track of the generational rise of my white midwestern descendants. As a result of my mom's devastating illness, our family was thrown into trauma, financial insecurity, and separation. Suddenly, we were part of a disadvantaged community, which my brother and then my nephew were sliding into even deeper, exacerbated by the impacts of mental illness and addiction.
The river and whitewater paddle sport was the ladder I used to avoid that slide.
The Paddle Tribal Waters youth, representing the Yurok, Hoopa, Karuk Tribes, and the Shasta and Klamath Peoples, are no strangers to the impacts of multifaceted, generational suppression of their traditional economies and livelihoods, rooted in colonialism and the exploitation of natural resources in the Klamath River basin. The Yurok Tribe, in particular, faced violent suppression when asserting their fishing rights during the "Klamath Salmon Wars" of the late 1970s, Earthjustice reports. Their communities have also been impacted by childhood trauma, mental illness, and addiction, the inevitable hazards of generational suppression of a marginalized community.
The removal of the dams and the accomplishment of the Paddle Tribal Waters (PTW) team mark a milestone and a turning point in that trajectory.
After working for three years to develop the skills to complete a 310-mile first descent of the lifeblood of their people, following the historic removal of four dams and reservoirs, the PTW team's lives have undoubtedly been profoundly changed.
Those of us waiting at the Requa boat launch, at the mouth of the Klamath River, continued to watch the team and their entourage of over 100 community support paddlers battle fierce headwinds to reach the sand spit at the river's mouth. Upon landing, the PTW team leaped out of their kayaks and ran up and over the spit. Out of sight from my view, I was told they were running to the ocean to release a bottle filled with flow from the headwaters each member had carried in their boats over the last 30 days.
Later, after all had gathered at the Requa boat dock for the arrival celebration, the words of the tribal youth and their tribal leaders, on their experience and the significance of this occasion, were profound. Fortunately, the sun was shining, so my sunglasses could still provide me with emotional cover.
"The river remembers," said one matriarchal tribal leader. "The fish are coming back to spawn where they haven't been able to be in a hundred years plus. The fish remember. We, as this river system, are healing."
Indigenous teams from New Zealand, Bolivia, Chile, and Idaho, on their own quest to reclaim their ancestral rivers, and part of the diverse array of whitewater paddlers supporting the PTW team, also spoke at the celebration. From their words, it is clear that the ripple effects on indigenous communities around the world have already begun, inspiring efforts to reclaim their rivers and join forces with a larger river community bound through whitewater paddle sport.
Through my own observations, paddling with Seth and two other friends for a few days leading up to this event, the recovery already in evidence is nothing short of astounding.
The Klamath River reach, which now runs through the footprint of the former Iron Gate
Reservoir, was drained only 18 months prior. The moderate remaining residue of muddy silt deposits next to the riverbanks still exudes a slightly rank odor, stemming from decades of decayed algae. However, the river's flow was only slightly turbid, and once on the water, the smell was gone. Reservoir silts deposited in the inset floodplain are already completely covered with dense riparian forbs, and the river channel meanders through pools, riffles, and rapids, as if they had always been there, and not submerged by a watery grave for decades.
We passed a large-scale restoration project on a primary side tributary, featuring half a dozen rumbling dozers and excavators carving out a geomorphically stable channel and inset floodplain. This included the placement of large log structures to deflect and dissipate the energy of next winter's rains and high-flow events. Restoring the form and function of a critical artery that had been clogged by decades of decaying algae and trapped sediment. A tribal leader stated that sixty tribal members have been put to work on these restoration efforts, restoring the lifeblood of a community, along with the river.
The next day, on another section of the Klamath, sixty miles downstream of the site of the former Iron Gate dam, I was delighted to observe that the brownish/green foam, odor of decay, and slimy green algae permeating the eddies and rock surfaces I had observed just three years earlier were gone.
The speed at which the river is remembering is exceeding predictions, and even my optimistic expectations.
Last year, they counted 6,000 salmon within the upper sections of the Klamath, which they had not been able to reach in almost 100 years. The improved water quality is undeniably evident everywhere on the river.
Undoubtedly, there will be bumps in the road to the continued remembering of the Klamath River. Invasive species can be challenging to manage, and the restoration of native plants along the river, as well as continued increases in fisheries populations, will require ongoing restoration actions.
But as the river continues to remember how to exist in its now free-flowing form, so will the tribal communities of the Klamath River watershed, side by side with their close relatives, the salmon fisheries.
We can look forward to many articles and films in the media about this historic event, providing the opportunity to read and listen to the words of the Paddle Tribal Waters youth themselves about their journey. I have included a couple of links here to get you started.
I intend to take periodic trips to the new Klamath River. To bear witness to the continued remembering of the river and its many human and non-human communities. I encourage you to also visit the Klamath to witness this remarkable recovery for yourself, and help support the following non-profit organizations.
During this time, when numerous stories about the declining health of ecosystems around the world are being told, it is heartening to know that the possibility of dramatic environmental improvement is still attainable. May future generations, from all walks of life, continue to make it so.
( I took time out of my schedule of author talks to launch the recent release of my memoir RISK, for this extraordinary event. But please visit my website to stay informed about upcoming launch events in your area. My book may be available for purchase at your local independent bookstore; if not, I would appreciate it if you could request that they carry it. However, it is also readily available at several online outlets; just follow the links on my website.)
Sue, this was a beautiful article and reminded me of a passage from another article I read recently by Katherine Ellis.
"As my phone kept pinging with somber updates, I thought of Toni Morrison’s description of memory. For Morrison, memories haunt physical and mental spaces; they are the “remains” at an “archeological site.” She uses the image of a flood to describe the interplay between imagination, memory, and history:
The act of imagination is bound up with memory. You know they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. ‘Floods’ is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where…
Thank you for sharing the exciting return of the free flowing river. I look forward to learning about the future salmon runs.