Part 5. ONDA Riparian Restoration Work Camp Trip
My week-long volunteer circuit around the Ochoco Mountains included a two-day work camp sponsored by the Oregon Natural Desert Association, or ONDA. Circling the Ochocos clockwise, I stopped often to marvel at the incongruity of a “desert river” and found the gravel turnoff at a milepost somewhere between East-and-West-of-the-Hinterlands. The last 4.5 miles brought a 30-minute crawl over hills, gullies, and rangeland between rocky buttes. Two range-roaming cows were unimpressed with my rig. Just when I was certain I was lost, I spotted the tents and cars of my fellow volunteers, and maneuvered JT into the encampment.
Seventeen of us met on a Thursday evening at this crackling dry, juniper-studded field along the South Fork Crooked River. After dinner, we had a fireless (due to a statewide burn ban) “fireside chat” about the next two days’ work, then hustled under a billion stars to warm sleeping bags as the temperature plummeted. Jefferson Jacobs, the ONDA staffer who led this trip, is well known among ONDA volunteers for fireside discussions, where he shares his considerable knowledge of the high desert region, its history, peoples, and ecosystems. His story-telling reputation is what prompted me to sign up for this trip, and the stories were as delightful as predicted.
By 6:00 a.m. the next morning, Jefferson had brewed us the most delicious coffee I ever tasted. I suspect he has learned that this is the best—if not the only—way to entice people out of warm sleeping bags on a 15˚F morning. I also suspect that the temperature had something to do with how good the coffee tasted. At eight o’clock we gathered with shovels, work gloves, bag lunches and water bottles, and hiked through the frosty fields about a quarter mile to the day’s worksite in a grassy meadow by the river.
ONDA groups who preceded us earlier in the summer had prepped the area in two ways:
- On one trip they had built several welded wire-mesh fenced enclosures (approximately 20 or 30’ square), or exclosures in volunteer-lingo, because excluding deer and beaver is the only way to keep the young plants from being browsed to the ground in the critical first years while they get established. (as seen at right)
2. On another trip they built two beaver-dam-analogs a half mile apart (or BDAs, as seen at left), These obstructions across the river made of logs with intertwined willow twigs slow water flow and raise the adjacent floodplain water table, in this case, by two feet. The BDA will give this patchwork of creekside plantings a fighting chance of surviving the hot Oregon desert summers.
On this assignment, work meant work! Jefferson had lined up some 2,300 native saplings and shrubs for this crew to get in the ground: cottonwood, aspen, willow, alder, red-twig dogwood, elderberry, spirea, currant, and meadow wildflowers. We planted half at each of the two BDA locations. The second day a group of 20 or 30-something young recruits turbo-boosted the effort by lowering the average age of our group significantly. We called them the Riders of Rohan, from the epic scene in the Two Towers movie (Tolkien’s Ring Trilogy)—a team-building mythology instigated by Jefferson.
In one of our fireless chats, we learned why we were working in this particular place. This 3-mile stretch of the South Fork Crooked River is on a 1200-acre parcel owned by Otto Keller, who is keen on land conservation and restoration. He collaborates with ONDA and other partners to restore the South Fork Crooked River to some of its former ecological diversity. Together they have successfully removed several acres of juniper and repaired fences to prevent cattle trespass (a significant issue, especially when one tries to find ungrazed land to study the effects of grazing on ecosystems). The partnership is now knee-deep in riparian restoration—with hopes of bringing back a habitat that can support native denizens such as trout and beaver. Oregon once teemed with beaver, but trappers nearly eliminated them from their natural range throughout central Oregon. In 20 years, when these plantings have grown, it is hoped that they will provide the elements beavers need to build dams and trout need for shelter and spawning.
Jefferson was confident that this ragtag band of conservationists, ranging in age from 25 to 80 could get 2300 plants tucked into the ground in two 8-hour days. This was hard work, yet many of these folks keep coming back year after year to plant more sections of this meandering creek’s banks, and to check up on last year’s babies. Camaraderie buoyed this crew of shovel-wielding hole-diggers (2300 holes is a lot of digging) and trowel-bearing plant setters, and by dam—we did it!
Two very muddy thumbs up!
Volunteer hours worked: 16