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FIGHTING FOR THE FISH
PHOTO BY CONRAD GOWELL
Idaho's Iconic Species are Gasping for Breath
BY MIKE MCKENNA
“Idaho is a 5-star hotel for salmon, but the road to get here is in rough shape.”
Those are the words of Mitch Cutter, the Salmon and Steelhead Associate for the Idaho Conservation League.
There once was a time when the rivers of Idaho—especially the Snake, Clearwater, and the world-famous one named after the state’s iconic fish—were literally teeming with salmon and steelhead. But those days are long gone. Where once millions of salmonids used to thrive, now barely any make it back to their historic breeding redds (the name for a spawning bed in a river) scattered throughout waters of the Gem State.
In fact, back in 1992 just a single salmon, dubbed Lonesome Larry, was the only fish to make it back to Redfish Lake outside of Stanley. Sadly, in the three decades since, things haven’t improved much and the photographic lake is now best known for its stunning mountain vistas, and not for the fish it was named after.
When you look at Idaho, we have some of the most pristine salmon habitats in the world, but the population continues to be in decline...
“Lonesome Larry was a bellwether,” Nic Nelson, the Executive Director of Idaho Rivers United, said. “When you look at Idaho, we have some of the most pristine salmon habitats in the world, but the population continues to be in decline and this is bad news for our state for a lot of reasons. Recovery, though, can happen. There is reason to be hopeful. There is a path forward.”
Landlocked Yet Famous For Seafood
At its closest point, Idaho is about 300 miles from the ocean. Nonetheless, the Gem State has been home to ocean-going fish for centuries.
Famous “seafood,” like sockeye and coho salmon, make the 900-mile trek each year from the Sawtooth Mountains to the sea to grow bigger or back to spawn. There are a handful species of anadromous fish that have historically called the waters of Idaho home. There are a couple different kinds of Chinook salmon (spring/ summer and fall runs) as well as coho and sockeye salmon (also known as “redfish”), and steelhead (a sea-run rainbow trout).
There once was a time when the seasonal runs of these fish were so thick that legend had it that you could walk across the Salmon River near Stanley on their backs and barely get your feet wet.
“You could sneak your arm out over the bank and catch them by hand,” recalled Steve Rayborn, a native Idahoan who calls Bellevue home and has fished for steelhead and salmon in local waters for more than a half century.
Canned And Dammed
Not too long before the turn of the 20th century, it was estimated that as many as 3-4 million anadromous fish passed through the Snake River annually. They would return to spawn in the cold, clear streams and lakes scattered throughout Idaho, from Salmon Falls Creek on the Nevada border to the Lemhi River near Montana to the famed tributaries of the Clearwater River in the northern reaches of the state.
Perhaps their most famous spawning waters can be found in the Sawtooth Valley, which is where the Salmon River starts some 900 miles from the Pacific Ocean and more than 6,500 above sea level. Soon after it begins, the river passes by Redfish Lake. The lake was named for the sea-run fish that have been calling it home for centuries.
As the West got discovered, more and more pressure was put on the salmon’s native habitat. Aggressive fishing tactics that fed canneries lining the banks cut down on fish returning from the sea in the early 1900s. This era was followed by a proliferation of dams across the region, which made the species’ journey even more treacherous, especially for young fish trying to get to the ocean to grow.
Before the Columbia and Snake Rivers were dammed up, it was estimated that a smolt, or a young fish, could reach the ocean from the heart of Idaho in six days. It now takes an average of six weeks.
“America and the West was expanding and needed resources,” Cutter said, about the “dam building era” that was chronicled in Marc Reisner’s classic book, Cadillac Desert. “They were pretty successful in creating and sharing power from all these dams. But it came at the expense of the fish.”
SWIMMING UP CURRENT— CURRENT STATE
Even though the trend for most anadromous species in Idaho has been steadily spiraling down for well over a century, there are reasons to be hopeful.
U.S. Congressman Mike Simpson (Idaho District 2) helped create the Columbia Basin Initiative to remove some dams. Native American leaders from the Nez Perce and Columbia Tribes have also supported the proposal.
The current presidential administration is the first to officially engage in salmon recovery in the Northwest, stating that supporting fish recovery for salmon and steelhead to be one of their top environmental priorities.
Surveys have shown that well over 70% of all Idahoans support efforts to save salmon and steelhead.
There is much more momentum than there has ever been. Recovery can happen.
“There is much more momentum than there has ever been,” Nelson said. “Recovery can happen.”
While the road to recovery isn’t going to be an easy one, it is possible. Dams are, in most cases, no longer considered to be the most cheap and clean way to produce power. Recreationists and small communities like Riggins and Stanley have raised their voices in support of the species.
“These fish are the lifeblood of so many small communities in Idaho,” Cutter said, adding, “What would they be without them?”
There’s a good reason why so many places and iconic objects in the Gem State are named after these impressive species. From the town of Salmon to Redfish Lake to some of Idaho’s most popular beers—like those crafted at Sockeye Brewing—salmon and steelhead are part of the bedrock of Idaho’s character. Heck, the state’s only professional hockey team is even called the “Steelheads.” So it’s only fitting that we Idahoans should start fighting even harder for them.
As Cutter said, “We have these fish here now, but we may not have them forever if we don’t do something about it.”
