Conservation Northwest

2013: Telling our stories Jen Watkins Conservation associate, jwatkins@conservationnw.org Golden opportunties Little things matter Two beliefs drive my conservation work: We are in a 1000-meter sprint and got a late start; and it's the little things that matter. While the urgency of habitat loss serves a drumbeat to my daily work soundtrack, it's the steady progress we make for wildlife that sustains my passion and energy. In the field, I see how restoring five acres of wildland or one mile of forest road snowballs into landscape scale conservation as these gains are continued, repeated, and linked. This October, my co-worker Alison and I drove out to Gold Creek on the east side of Snoqualmie Pass where two new freeway wildlife underpasses are helping reconnect habitat and waterways. We arrived to plant, just north of this key wildlife crossing, the native trees and shrubs remaining from past restoration events, involving dozens of volunteers and hundreds of hours. Together they are transforming what had been a gravel pit into wildlife habitat. With tools in hand, we split up to plant willow stakes along Gold Creek. As I balanced on the creek bank to dig my first Standing firm hole, I heard splashes in the water just feet away. Looking down I saw the red bodies of returning salmon that had traveled under a six-lane interstate to this reach of creek. This wonderful moment adds to last year's story of a coyote becoming the first animal documented to use this brand new passage beneath the freeway. It builds on the human connections we'd witnessed at the planting parties this fall, when an Eagle Scout who earned his community service badge as an intern three years ago returned to see the great progress we'd made for wildlife. These glimpses of progress are antidote to feeling overwhelmed and they motivate me to keep working for wildlife. The little things do matter. Protecting forests Northeast Washington riparian cedar forest. © Eric Zamora What is the sound of a thousand trees falling? At first it sounded like rain. The drops grew into a trickle which pooled behind an undersized culvert. A tiny rock gave a sigh, some more rocks heaved, and a waterfall roared forth. The roadbank collapsed into a screaming wall of logs, rocks, and mud, Keeping the Northwest wild At the 2013 ribbon cutting for completion of Phase 1 of the I-90 project, WSDOT and I-90 project supporters (including Sen. Curtis King and I-90 Wildlife Bridges Coalition Director Charlie Raines) planted natives in habitat just south of the newly completed Gold Creek underpass. Jen Watkins George Wooten Conservation associate, gwooten@conservationnw.org uprooting trees and snapping them like matchsticks. Then miraculously, it stopped, the torrent piled high into the remaining cedar trees. The only sound was a long echo and rain falling on tiny orchids growing impatient for spring. At the time, I was conducting rare plant surveys in timber sales for the US Forest Service. Those were my rare orchids; the stand of cedar trees belonged to the taxpayers. Without those trees, the torrent would have wiped out a bridge and many fish. The cedars were supposed to have been logged, the stand sold years before I found the plants, before plant surveys were required. I showed the orchids to someone who subsequently made a deal with the timber purchaser—who said they'd leave the cedars unlogged if conservationists agreed not to appeal a different timber sale. But the district ranger found out, and though those trees weren't logged, much of the sale was. Now, with Conservation Northwest, we have begun the job of decommissioning the roads in this area—28 miles and 37 stream crossings worth—restoring forest and protecting even more acres. The forest will grow back, the wildlife will return, and the orchids will bloom again. Winter 2014 5

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