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All eyes on the river
Part One of a five part series on the proposed Klamath settlement and the future of the river.
There is nothing quite like the Klamath River.
It cannot be reduced to a simple description, or its use defined in a single statement.
The river is complex, for its hydrology and for the people and practices it supports.
Endangered fish, a power company, farmers, American Indian tribes and millions of waterfowl all depend on the Klamath River Basin for survival. The system has, through the years, crumbled under the weight of these different needs, showing nature's fragility.
But despite the strain of conflicting interests on the Klamath, the basin has endured to become a system that renews, provides, functions.
The Klamath and its surrounding geography encounter remarkable changes as the river winds more than 250 miles from its headwaters near Klamath Falls, Ore., to the Pacific Ocean in Del Norte County.
Its impact on local residents is substantial: Some of our electricity is generated by its dams. Our fishing prospects, not only on the river but also in the ocean, depend on the Klamath's health.
That is why The Triplicate begins a series of stories today about the Klamath Basin just as a historic plan to restore it—and possibly remove its dams—is being debated.
A trip downstream
Upper Klamath Lake at the river's headwaters is a massive, shallow lake in the final stages of becoming a swamp. Nutrient-rich water flows from the headwaters through additional lakes and wetlands in the upper basin, providing water for crop irrigation within the high-elevation, flat farms of Southern Oregon.
Wetlands were diked and drained a century ago for agriculture and ranching in the shadow of snow-capped Mt. Shasta.
The land is quiet here in the winter. Roads that traverse the irrigation fields are long and empty. Field upon field of cattle-grazing pastures and crops rest beneath thick blankets of snow, waiting for spring. Every so often along the way, a modest home occupies a parcel of land, but most of the precious acreage is devoted to farming.
About 1,400 farms cultivate 220,000 acres in the Klamath Reclamation Project, a U.S. Bureau of Reclamation initiative that drained Lower Klamath Lake and Tule Lake to allow farming in the basin.
These farmers have struggled in drought years to have enough water for irrigation, and in 2001 the Bureau temporarily shut off water to on-project users.
The basin also gives life to millions of migratory waterfowl. American bald eagles, hawks and golden eagles all take flight and forage for food within the Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuges near the irrigation project.
The lakes, marshes and streams of the upper basin also are important to the Klamath Tribes, now headquartered in Chiloquin, Ore., north of Klamath Falls. For years preceding the irrigation project's arrival, the tribes caught an abundance of sucker fish, salmon and trout.
Fishing, especially for suckers, sustained the tribes, said Jeff Mitchell, a Klamath Tribes councilman. Suckers would run upstream in early spring, promising a food source after long, difficult winters.
"If the people could hang on until late February or early March, we knew we'd be okay because that's when our fish would start running and we would start harvesting those fish," Mitchell said. "My ancestors wouldn't have been able to live here if it wasn't for our fish. That's why those fish mean so much to our tribe."
As much of the basin was given over to agricultural development, water quality in lakes and marshes declined, said Larry Dunsmoor, a biologist with the Klamath Tribes. In the mid-1980s, the tough sucker fish were listed as endangered. And as hydroelectric dams were constructed during the 20th century, river passage for salmon was sharply cut off.
Reaching the dams
After leaving the flat highlands surrounding the headwaters, the Klamath River is banked by narrow, rocky walls. The river's steep gradient over the next 40 miles is ideal for generating electricity through hydroelectric dams, said Toby Freeman, PacifiCorp's regional community manager based in Klamath Falls, Ore.
As tributaries feed into the Klamath River's upper stretches, water quality improves from flushes of cold stream water, Freeman said. In what seems like an unusual reversal, the river's headwaters—nutrient-rich Upper Klamath Lake—are more murky than the river itself.
Still, the stretch of river that encompasses the dams is highly manipulated in order for PacifiCorp to generate electricity through the 169-megawatt hydro project.
Between J.C. Boyle—the first electricity-generating dam—and Iron Gate dam at the bottom of the project, river flows vary from about 300 cubic feet per second (cfs) to close to 3,000 cfs, depending on how much water is sent downstream. This drastic flow change is detrimental to trout that live in that stretch of the river, some say.
Because flows can be manipulated and sustained year-round through the dams, whitewater rafting on the Klamath River has thrived in the summer months when other rivers lack ample water, Freeman said.
"The Klamath is considered one of the best whitewater runs in the world," Freeman said.
Recreationists also enjoy two large reservoirs behind Copco 1 and Iron Gate dams. But like other standing bodies of water, in late summer and early fall, the lakes generate toxic algae blooms that have been detrimental to fishermen in the river's downstream stretches.
The algae doesn't seem to phase many people who spend summer days on Iron Gate reservoir, water skiing and boating on the lake. A number of residents also make their home along Copco reservoir.
Where salmon swim
Below the dams, salmon are still able to swim in the river and spawn in its tributaries. A hatchery below Iron Gate dam produces fall chinook, steelhead and coho salmon.
In its final stretch to the Pacific Ocean, the Klamath River has for years offered members of the Yurok Tribe and other fishermen a place to catch salmon and steelhead.
"For the Yurok Tribe, this river literally represents everything," said Troy Fletcher, a tribal member and lead negotiator on settlement issues for the tribe. "We have an interest in anything that happens on this basin."
The tribe has devoted much energy toward fishery management and protection because fish are central to Yuroks, Fletcher said.
Also in the lower stretches, river guides for years have found success on the Klamath. They used to pack the waterway with boats and pull in fish after fish.
"It was just such an unbelievable experience," said Chuck Blackburn, a former Del Norte County supervisor who guided on the river for 30 years. "Especially when the fish were out, people were hooking fish and hollering ‘fish on!'"
Fewer river guides ply the river now, partly because fish returning to the Klamath have dwindled, prompting more restrictions.
Still, folks travel from Alaska—a state with no shortage of fishing access—to fish the Klamath River, said Mick Thomas, who owns Lunker Fish Trips Bait & Tackle in Hiouchi.
"Everyone is in awe when they get on the river," Thomas said. "The idea is they come here because they enjoy our county and the beauty of it."
Reach Michelle Ma at mma@triplicate.com.
Part One - All eyes on the river
Part Two - Dams in the bull's-eye
Part Four - No country for salmon
Part Five - The dilemma downstream