Lower Klamath refuge to commemorate 100 years

Photos courtesy of Dave Menke of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

White tundra swans take flight at the Lower Klamath National Wildlife Refuge, which is celebrating its 100-year anniversary on Friday.

Wildlife viewing and photography are popular activities at the Lower Klamath National Wildlife Refuge.

“We are recognizing that we are 100 years old and we also want to recognize the people who were thinking far enough ahead to set this area aside for the future,” Menke said.

In 1908, President Theodore Roosevelt gave the executive order to protect the original 50,000-acre wildlife preserve.

But it was the persistence of conservationist William Finley, who lobbied Roosevelt hard and often, that made it possible. Finley’s interest in the area began while he was taking wildlife photography there. He was alarmed at the time because the area was being overfarmed.

The agricultural interests in the Klamath Basin are still strong, and problems of water allocation between agricultural and ecological interests in the area are ongoing.

“The property is intensely managed in terms of water levels and water release timing schedules. Water is a problem here. If there was more water available, there would be more demands on it.” Menke said

The land is drained at certain times of the year to allow plant growth and flooded at other times to supply food for the waterfowl. It takes 400 to 500 water-control structures to distribute water to support an estimated migrating population of 2 million waterfowl, as well as bald eagles, which are now off the Endangered Species list.

The refuge is a vital link in an area called the Pacific Flyway. Of all the wetlands in the West, none gives more sanctuary than the marshes and lakes of the Klamath Basin. And wetlands in California have decreased 90 percent in the past century, further pressuring the few remaining wetland eco-systems.

The fragile flyway link is being sustained by six refuges in the Klamath Basin, located on the Oregon-California border.

The refuges are Lower Klamath, Clear Lake, established in 1911, followed by the Upper Klamath and Tulelake in 1928, the Klamath Marsh in 1958 and the Bear Valley Refuge in 1978.

Combined, they stretch over 190,000 acres, supporting 493 species of birds, fish, mammals, reptiles and amphibians. The Lost River and Shortnose suckerfish are the only two on the Endangered Species list.

The refuge’s habitat is diverse and includes freshwater marshes, open water, grassy meadows, conifer forests, sagebrush, juniper grasslands, agricultural land, and rocky cliffs and slopes.

It takes a staff of 40 full-time biologists, firefighters and administrative personnel to keep the “complex” running. Their primary goal is habitat management, which includes six public activities: hunting, fishing, canoeing, education, wildlife observation and photography. They also look after American Indian archeological sites.

Hunting on the preserve is allowed but tightly controlled, Menke says.

“We run the hunting programs, and they are extremely regulated. The number of waterfowl taken is insignificant as far as having an impact on the waterfowl population,” he said.

That has not always been the case. Menke said that in 1904, millions of ducks were hunted commercially with that year’s take adding up to a staggering 120 tons.

At that time, plumes for ladies’ hats were in high fashion. The plumes were taken from the Klamath Basin’s population of egrets — a practice that was banned about 1914.

Menke pointed out the differences between national forests and wildlife refuges. Forests have many more uses, such as camping, timber harvesting, rock-climbing, off-road vehicle access and firewood collecting among other sanctioned activities.

“On our refuges, we have to be compatible with our designation as to habitat and conservation management, as opposed to national forests, which are for more diversified uses,” he said.

As for the future of the Klamath Basin, Menke is hopeful in some areas and cautious in others.

“But at the same time there is an environmental conscience and people are realizing that the refuges are not inexhaustible. We have no guarantee we will get the optimum amount of water every year. There is no guarantee that the majesty of the refuges will always be able to co-exist with the demands of modern society,” he said.

Dennis Taylor is a freelance writer from Weed.