Youthful Pioneers: One Year After the Historic Klamath Dam Removal, Teens Spark Global River Restoration Movement
In a groundbreaking move, four hydroelectric dams were removed from the Klamath River last year, marking the largest project of its kind in US history. The initiative was spearheaded by Indigenous youth from across the basin, who embarked on a 30-day, 310-mile journey to paddle the entire length of the river for the first time in over a century.
The young adventurers, aged between 15 and 19, were part of an ambitious program called "Paddle Tribal Waters" launched by Ríos to Rivers, an advocacy organization that fosters environmental stewardship among Indigenous students worldwide. The initiative aimed to empower the next generation of river stewards and promote collective action to protect and restore waterways.
As the group reached the Pacific Ocean on the other side of the sandy dunes, they marked a historic moment – not just for their own community but also for the global movement to restore rivers worldwide. Their journey served as a powerful symbol of hope and resilience in the face of environmental degradation.
The past year has witnessed remarkable progress on the Klamath River. Threatened coho salmon have begun to make it farther upriver than they have in 60 years, while Chinook salmon were spotted in headwaters for the first time in over a century. Native seeds strewn across the riverbanks and their adjoining hillsides have begun to bloom, attracting scores of birds and animals – from bald eagles to beavers to bears.
The removal of the dams has also led to improved water temperatures, providing a natural cooling effect that is essential for fish migration. Water quality has remained stable, with toxic markers staying within safe limits through the seasons. The unprecedented project required an equally unprecedented fish-monitoring effort, relying on a range of tools, including sonar, boat surveys, netting, and tagging.
Ren Brownell, former spokesperson for the Klamath River Renewal Corporation, notes that "These kids will be the first generation who get to grow up alongside a clean Klamath River." The program has inspired Indigenous-led movements worldwide to protect or restore other rivers. The removal of dams has sent a clear message: it is possible to make a difference.
As the youth paddle into their second year without dams, they are not only celebrating their success but also acknowledging that there is still work to be done. Barry McCovey Jr., senior fisheries biologist for the Yurok Tribe, emphasizes that "the river needed those kids – they are part of the solution." The young pioneers will play a crucial role in leading restoration efforts into the future.
For Ruby Williams, a Quartz Valley tribal member and Karuk person, paddling the Klamath River was a protest in itself. She recalled the tears that filled her eyes as she reached the ocean and pulled her boat onto the shore, taking in the sound of beating drums and generations of Native people smiling as they reached the sand on that cool July morning.
Williams, who started college this year majoring in environmental conservation and land management, is eager to lead the charge. Along with lifelong friendships she found on the Klamath's first descent, she has gained a calling to fight for her river and others around the world.
As the movement gains momentum, the message echoes across borders: "All rivers should be free."
In a groundbreaking move, four hydroelectric dams were removed from the Klamath River last year, marking the largest project of its kind in US history. The initiative was spearheaded by Indigenous youth from across the basin, who embarked on a 30-day, 310-mile journey to paddle the entire length of the river for the first time in over a century.
The young adventurers, aged between 15 and 19, were part of an ambitious program called "Paddle Tribal Waters" launched by Ríos to Rivers, an advocacy organization that fosters environmental stewardship among Indigenous students worldwide. The initiative aimed to empower the next generation of river stewards and promote collective action to protect and restore waterways.
As the group reached the Pacific Ocean on the other side of the sandy dunes, they marked a historic moment – not just for their own community but also for the global movement to restore rivers worldwide. Their journey served as a powerful symbol of hope and resilience in the face of environmental degradation.
The past year has witnessed remarkable progress on the Klamath River. Threatened coho salmon have begun to make it farther upriver than they have in 60 years, while Chinook salmon were spotted in headwaters for the first time in over a century. Native seeds strewn across the riverbanks and their adjoining hillsides have begun to bloom, attracting scores of birds and animals – from bald eagles to beavers to bears.
The removal of the dams has also led to improved water temperatures, providing a natural cooling effect that is essential for fish migration. Water quality has remained stable, with toxic markers staying within safe limits through the seasons. The unprecedented project required an equally unprecedented fish-monitoring effort, relying on a range of tools, including sonar, boat surveys, netting, and tagging.
Ren Brownell, former spokesperson for the Klamath River Renewal Corporation, notes that "These kids will be the first generation who get to grow up alongside a clean Klamath River." The program has inspired Indigenous-led movements worldwide to protect or restore other rivers. The removal of dams has sent a clear message: it is possible to make a difference.
As the youth paddle into their second year without dams, they are not only celebrating their success but also acknowledging that there is still work to be done. Barry McCovey Jr., senior fisheries biologist for the Yurok Tribe, emphasizes that "the river needed those kids – they are part of the solution." The young pioneers will play a crucial role in leading restoration efforts into the future.
For Ruby Williams, a Quartz Valley tribal member and Karuk person, paddling the Klamath River was a protest in itself. She recalled the tears that filled her eyes as she reached the ocean and pulled her boat onto the shore, taking in the sound of beating drums and generations of Native people smiling as they reached the sand on that cool July morning.
Williams, who started college this year majoring in environmental conservation and land management, is eager to lead the charge. Along with lifelong friendships she found on the Klamath's first descent, she has gained a calling to fight for her river and others around the world.
As the movement gains momentum, the message echoes across borders: "All rivers should be free."