Matters in My Own Hands

My recent experiences volunteering for Conservation Northwest's Cascades to Olympics program have produced a lot of lessons, and one of the most important realizations is the power of action over politics.

Even as a kid, the environment and animals mattered a lot to me, and I wanted to translate that into actions that would make for a better world: less pollution, more environmental protections, and protection of other species.

I suppose it was inevitable that my concern for environmental issues would lead to an interest in politics and how political action influenced the environment. However, I came to place too much emphasis on this aspect of the environmental movement. Because I did so, I became disheartened when the politicians of the United States failed time and time again to address global warming. That disappointment began to weigh on me in very personal ways. Feeling powerless is not a good feeling, especially when important issues like global warming are left unresolved.

In early 2023, I began volunteering to clear wildlife corridors for the Cascades to Olympics program, which highlights the importance of southwestern Washington state for wildlife in the region. By reconnecting portions of habitat, the program helps species get where they need to go and find more suitable habitat as the climate changes.

Almost instantly, I felt better. The physical activity of improving the corridors was a good outlet for my frustration at the country's political failures. It was also a chance to connect with others and build community. Perhaps most importantly, it allowed me to translate my concern for the environment into tangible work that could make a difference right away in a place that meant a lot to me.

While I was volunteering last week, I spoke with Conservation Northwest's project manager, and he noted how a lot of people in the area are becoming interested in helping with the program. He said he thought one reason was that participating in it gave people hope in what otherwise seems like a hopeless situation. That's when I realized exactly why volunteering on the project had made me feel better. I said, "You know, I think working on this project has done more to help animals prepare for global warming than any politician who has ever received my vote."

Political action isn't a waste of time, but when it comes down to what's most important, it's sometimes best to take matters into your own hands.

Howling Successes

The Washington Gray Wolf Conservation and Management 2022 Annual Report revealed some howling successes when it was released earlier this month by the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife (WDFW).

First, the report showed continued growth in Washington state's wolf population. The state population grew to 216 individuals, an increase of five percent from its 2021 levels. This marks the 14th straight year of growth.

Significantly, despite the increasing wolf population, the number of livestock-depredation incidents was very small. Just seven packs (19 percent of the state's 37 packs) engaged in livestock depredation, and only three of those seven were involved in more than one incident. A total of 15 cattle and two sheep were confirmed to be killed by wolves. WDFW cites the "implementation of proactive, nonlethal deterrence efforts," including range riders, as a key to limiting depredation.

The formation of a pack in the southern Cascade Mountains represents another cause for celebration. It's the first pack in that region since wolves were driven to extinction in the state during the 20th century. Hopefully, it is an important step in the return of wolves to western Washington.

It's music to my ears to hear news like this report.

Pieces of Possibility

Executing big ideas can require piece-by-piece action. 

Comprehensive visions of environmental conservation are both vital and exciting. We must think those big thoughts if we are to create a scope of action that operates on the level of ecosystems. Additionally, such expansive goals help us rise to the challenge of major environmental issues like global warming. Very importantly, big plans generate energy and enthusiasm about what's possible. 

Still, when it comes to making possibilities into realities, a different, smaller, and typically more demanding approach takes the wheel. We must prepare to work at issues over a long period of time and take opportunities where we can find them even if they are small and scattered. It's about being meticulous and tenacious and comprehending the long-term commitment necessary for success. Conservation Northwest's Cascades to Olympics program, which I previously blogged about here, is shaping up to be a great example of how we need to piece together major projects. Check out the video below to learn about the program and how people are finding ways to make it happen.

   

I really like how Conservation Northwest has looked for possible options that help provide connectivity for wildlife between the Cascade Mountains and the Olympic Mountains. They have assessed the areas that would maximize connection and then looked for opportunities to make those connections better. Each piece requires its own unique work. For example, on the Satsop River in Grays Harbor County, Conservation Northwest has found a way to make the most of a bridge by clearing space for wildlife to walk under it. By contrast, along Interstate 5, the organization is working with the Veterans' Ecological Trades Collective to perhaps create a wildlife overpass that would provide wildlife with a safe option for crossing the freeway. Put together with other projects over a period of years, the work on the Satsop River and the potential I-5 overpass could produce the kind of connectivity Conservation Northwest desires. 

The dream seems more possible as dedicated and hard work puts pieces in place.

SW by Conservation NW

The time has arrived for southwest Washington to come out of the conservation shadows.

Long eclipsed by the Cascade Mountains, the Olympic Mountains, the Washington coast, Puget Sound, and the Columbia River Gorge, the interior of Washington's southwest region missed out on many important conservation designations. It lacks a snow-capped volcano, and the Chehalis River looks far less imposing than the Columbia, so instead of being set aside for protection, it was carved up by the timber industry.

A view of Minot Peak in the Willapa Hills
from the Chehalis River Basin.

Now, at long last, this region's important role in Washington's ecosystem has taken center stage because Conservation Northwest has launched its Cascades to Olympics program. At first glance of the title, the program appears to once again emphasize the state's charismatic features, but the less celebrated southwest region sits at the core of this project.

Cascades to Olympics prioritizes the future of the Chehalis River, the placing of wildlife crossings on Interstate 5 and Highway 12, and the commitment to conservation and restoration projects throughout the region. The key to all of this is the recognition of southwest Washington's ability to connect the Cascades and the Olympics. Such an approach takes a more comprehensive view of habitat, species movement, and ecosystems. All told, along with recent news about preserving parts of Grays Harbor County and stopping the dam on the Chehalis River, the Cascades to Olympics program indicates a new commitment to protecting an often overlooked part of Washington. For more information about Cascades to Olympics, click here.

As someone who hails from southwest Washington, I couldn't be happier that it is finally getting the attention it deserves from the conservation movement.

The Best of Us

The best of who we are emerges through our collective efforts to achieve shared dreams.

At Snoqualmie Pass on Interstate 90 in Washington state's Cascade Mountains, we can see the great things that happen when people come together in a public decision-making process and exercise their combined power to solve problems. Fittingly, that collaboration has produced work that both symbolizes and realizes the potential of connection.

Seeking to solve multiple problems, including avalanche danger, car collisions with wildlife, and ecosystem disruption, a far-reaching coalition of environmental groups, government agencies, lawmakers, and engaged citizens, planned out an extraordinary project. Through a series of road-widening strategies and plans for wildlife overpasses and underpasses, the coalition set in motion an intelligent and inspiring approach to transportation and habitat connectivity. The long and impressive work to bring that vision to life continues, but the fruits of the labor have already started appearing, and they are nothing short of awesome. To learn more about the entire project, check out Cascade Crossroads, the new documentary by Conservation Northwest:



Fragile as it is, confidence in ourselves and our public institutions deserves the best chance to flourish. When it is allowed to, it yields amazing results.

Projects like the I-90 wildlife overpasses and underpasses demonstrate the great things within our collective capacity when we offer our individual strengths to the work of a common dream.

Farewell Tour

Recession of the Nisqually Glacier at Mount Rainier

When I came home to Washington state this summer, I said goodbye.

Early in the spring semester while working at the University of South Dakota, I started making plans for my summer in Washington. I wanted to go back to Olympic National Park and Mount St. Helens. Also, I wanted to visit Mount Rainier for the first time. That mountain had watched over so much of my life, but I had never been up to it.

Accompanied by my family, I was able to keep all my plans, and I had a great time doing it. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing old friends and the state where I grew up.

Global warming is tearing apart my home state this summer with drought and heat. Two weeks after I visited Olympic National Park, one of the wettest places in the world, a massive fire started there. Days before I visited Mount St. Helens, the state Department of Ecology declared that Washington's snowpack was at zero percent of normal levels. Sure enough, the only snow I saw on that trip was at the top of St. Helens and in the volcano's shaded crater. Then, days before I went to Mount Rainier, a news story ran about the mountain's disappearing Nisqually Glacier. I was sure to take pictures of the glacier and its recession on my trip because I wasn't sure how many more chances I'll get to see it.

I was glad about my choice to visit these icons of Washington this summer. Global warming is changing them, and I needed something of the way they were to keep as a last memory. That's what we must do when we say goodbye.

Rain, moderate temperatures, snow: The band has broken up in Washington, and in the words of singer Michelle Branch, "Goodbye to you. Goodbye to everything that I knew. You were the one I loved, the one thing I tried to hold onto."

Up in Smoke

I've found that being an environmentalist can be addictive.

This addiction stems from a desire to help protect something I see as immeasurably special. I felt that protective urge very early in life, and it grew until I wanted to protect every single mechanism of nature.

The story of the West Coast fisher provides a great example of my addiction. As I blogged about here, after being virtually wiped out from much of its original range, the fisher has started to make a comeback with the help of reintroduction projects. I first got excited about their return when a population was reestablished in the Olympic National Park. That success led to reintroduction programs in Washington's Cascade Mountains.

Success stories certainly add to the addictive nature of environmentalism, but nothing feeds the addiction more than success that is threatened. And now, all the work that has gone into bringing the fisher back is at risk because of the illegal use of rodenticide (much of which is used to protect illegal marijuana planting) and other factors. As a result, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service is proposing listing the West Coast fisher as threatened. Check out a video explaining the proposal below:



This proposal to protect fishers and support the previous work to keep them around further triggered my protective instincts. I submitted my comments in support of the proposed listing and would like to share the opportunity with others. For more information about the proposal and how to comment on it, click here. The deadline is February 4.

Yes, I'm addicted, and I see no end to my desire to protect nature from thoughtless destruction.