Protection Debated for One of Last Wild Rivers

In those stressful days following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, when Jenna Olsen desperately pined for an emotional outlet, she knew just where to find it. She hurried to a pristine waterfall along the isolated Clavey River that tumbles over salmon-colored rocks into a succession of blue-green pools.

“My soul sort of called out for this place,” she said.

The little-known Clavey is one of California’s most remote and wildest rivers, unblocked by dams and unscarred by the hand of man as it courses 47 miles through the forested wilderness of the western Sierra, not far from Yosemite National Park.

The cold, free-flowing Clavey’s waters have given birth to world-class rapids, frisky wild trout and a surrounding ecosystem of native species. And all of it, say those who relish this river, is in peril.

In 1996, naturalists barely held off a utility that wanted to build a 413-foot-high dam in one of the Clavey’s narrow granite canyons. Olsen fears the utility will be back.

Olsen, executive director of the Tuolumne River Preservation Trust, insists that the Clavey is a poster river for a bill before Congress to protect a huge swath of federal lands and free-flowing sections of rivers from invasive development.

Sponsored by Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-Calif.), the California Wild Heritage Act of 2002 would protect 2.5 million acres of federal land from invasive development and give portions of 22 rivers protection under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. Included are the Clavey and the Tuolumne’s south fork in the Stanislaus National Forest and the Southern Kern, San Diego and Kings rivers in Southern California. The bill would increase by 450 miles the 1,900 miles--1% of the state’s 190,000 miles of rivers--that already are protected from logging and mining that occur on many federal lands.

The Wild and Scenic Rivers Act requires government oversight agencies such as the Bureau of Land Management or U.S. Forest Service to create a protection plan for an area extending one-quarter mile to either side of selected rivers. It leaves the areas open to recreational use, supporters say.

Yet the wilderness cause has an angry torrent of enemies--from equestrians and users of all-terrain vehicles to hunters, farmers, ranchers and the timber and hydroelectric power industries--who say the Boxer bill would trample on their rights to tracts maintained with taxpayer dollars. Introduced this summer, along with two companion bills in the House, Boxer’s legislation is being debated by the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee.

Definitions at Issue

Just what the wild-and-scenic designation means depends on which side of the issue you stand on. While naturalists say the bill would merely add a level of future protection to federal land and rivers, critics say outdoor enthusiasts are being closed out of their own woods. They call the effort an environmental land grab that would let roads and trails fall into disrepair.

Critics of the plan to apply the designation to the 22 rivers are exploring alternative legislation that they say would better preserve the rights of forest users.

“For sportsmen, it’s just one more imaginary fence being built, one more ‘Keep Out’ sign, one more way our access is being limited,” said Toby Horst, president of the Backcountry Horsemen of California. “We’re not against wilderness. But we are against these newfangled areas that are being made off-limits to real people.”

While he acknowledges that the Boxer legislation would not ban equestrian use of such areas, he said that allowing trails to grow over would discourage riders and have the same effect.

Kay Bargmann said such assumptions are wrong.

“The Clavey is among the last free-flowing rivers in the Sierra--the rest have been dammed up,” said the former board member of the Clavey River Coalition. “This is about protecting what we cherish, to share it with future generations and not covet it for ourselves.”

Meanwhile, the state’s electricity interests, which have their own ideas for the river, aren’t giving up easily.

“A dam on the Clavey would provide another means to store water--a precious commodity in California,” said Tony Walker, a spokesman for the Turlock Irrigation District, which was defeated in its proposal to dam the Clavey in 1996. “While our plans are now in limbo, we’re opposed to anything that would preclude us from reviving them in the future.”

The Clavey River’s north-to-south journey is like a natural luge ride, an 8,000-foot plunge down the Sierra’s western slope. Its headwaters originate in California’s highest terrain in the Emigrant Wilderness and empty at its eventual confluence with the Tuolumne River far below.

Along the way, the river and its tributaries roar through rock-hewn gorges and ease gracefully past thousands of acres of old-growth forest laden with groves of aspen, ponderosa pine and mixed conifer. In Bell Meadow, at its upper reaches, the river cuts through the winter grazing ground of Yosemite’s deer herd. The year’s new fawns are born there and bald eagles often hover overhead.

The Clavey is crossed by only three backcountry roads and runs almost entirely through land maintained by the U.S. Forest Service. Still, anglers are drawn to the state’s first officially designated “Wild Trout River.” It has native species found in few other places.

Expert kayakers consider the river’s white-water rapids to be the most challenging on the continent. They include runs designated Class V, which indicates a high degree of difficulty.

“The Clavey is the classic California white-water run,” said kayaker John Woolard. “In the spring, it’s an unfettered, undammed rush of High Sierra snow melt. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Letters of Support

Boxer has received scores of letters from people who support protecting the Clavey. One came from a former Japanese internment victim who said he needs the solace and beauty of the Clavey “just to keep me going.” Another was sent by a Sonora restaurant owner who explained that he wanted his grandchildren “to experience nature in person, not at IMAX.”

Another voice of support came from an unlikely source: “Here I am, a retired aluminum company executive, having spent a career in an industry that depends on heavy usage of electricity, lobbying my heart out to save a granite fishing stream and beauty spot for posterity,” Bruce Wilson wrote. “But folks need to have precious places like the Clavey to refresh their souls and God made only a few.”

But critics point to what they call the bill’s Achilles heel: By restricting access and not maintaining existing roads and trails, they say, officials would handicap efforts to fight the kind of forest fires that swept the Western United States this summer.

“The state’s highest fire danger runs right through the heart of that country,” Sherry Brennan, a spokeswoman for the Tuolumne County Farm Bureau, said of the Clavey area. “How are they going to fight a fire they can’t even reach? These politicians need to understand that what often looks and sounds good on paper becomes an entirely different story when it comes to practical application.”

Olsen, of the Tuolumne River Preservation Trust, insists that the argument doesn’t hold up.

Under the bill, all means of firefighting are allowed. And in the case of the Clavey, all of the present 500 miles of roads in the Clavey watershed would be preserved, meaning firefighters could attack a blaze on the ground and in the air, Olsen said.

Critics also cite other reasons for opposition. The Kern County Board of Supervisors has said the Boxer legislation would hamper future decision-makers’ options. But it has voted to remain neutral on the legislation, which would designate nearly 29 miles of the lower Kern River as wild and scenic.

The Wild and Scenic Rivers Act allows for three designations of rivers. Wild rivers carry the most severe restrictions, followed by scenic and recreational rivers. The designations are determined by the use at the time of the law’s passage.

Rep. Hilda Solis (D-El Monte), who is sponsoring a House version of the Boxer bill for Southern California, said existing activities along the Clavey, including hunting, fishing, livestock grazing and horseback riding, would be allowed under the legislation.

She said many people have mistaken river restrictions for the more stringent rules governing new wilderness areas, where motorized vehicles are prohibited. “We’ve worked with critics to assure them we’re not trampling on people’s property rights,” she said, adding that her staff had assured mountain bike groups that “well-used paths” would continue to exist.

Don Amador, western representative of the Blue Ribbon Coalition, a national recreation access group, is exploring legislation that he said would protect resources but still allow for public access. “It’s very simple,” he said. “Resources can be protected hand in hand with managed recreation.”

Dam Project Blocked

In recent years, the Clavey has survived some close brushes with development. With the rallying cry of “Save the Clavey,” more than a dozen environmental, fishing and rafting groups fought the Turlock Irrigation District’s $345-million dam project six years ago.

“Our little slingshot wasn’t very powerful in the beginning,” said inn owner Peggy Mosely, who became a lead Clavey River activist. “But the message got out and I think our efforts to stop that dam changed the way people look at the environment. And we’re not about to give back what we won. And on the Clavey, that means no development, no dams, no nothing.”

Walker, of the Turlock Irrigation District, said the naturalists are guilty of their own misinformation. He said the Clavey runs not as a river, but as a trickle for most of the summer and that, at the very least, a dam would regulate the river’s flow.

“They make all these assertions that this river is so pristine when miners, farmers and ranchers have used it for generations,” he said.

“We went to an extreme amount of work and expense to engineer a dam that was environmentally friendly, to the point that the dam had gaskets where it would meet the canyon walls to keep it from squeaking and scaring the deer. We’re not ready to give up on our idea just yet.”

On a recent afternoon, Monica Weakly stood atop the Clavey’s most picturesque waterfall. Shouting over the river’s roar, the Sierra Nevada program director for the Tuolumne River Trust said she visits the spot whenever she can.

“This is God’s Bath,” she said as she prepared to take a 10-foot dive into one of the clear cold pools. “It’s aptly named. Because it’s just divine.”

And then she jumped.