Week along Elwha River opens tribe's youth to science, heritage

AT THE MOUTH OF THE ELWHA RIVER, Clallam County — In the lore of the Lower Elwha Klallam people, the Creator made a woman named Mim-wh-ten who was tasked with establishing balance in the world.

After her work was completed, she charged the Lower Elwha people with maintaining that balance in the lands along the Elwha River.

Amid dense forests, the Lower Elwha Tribe lived in a series of villages along the river and the nearby Strait of Juan de Fuca. And the river has been at the heart of more than their folklore: Their livelihood once depended on the Elwha's salmon runs, which all but stopped when dams were built early in the 20th century. Since then, the tribe's fortunes have gone the way of the salmon.

But with removal of the dams planned for 2009, the tribe looks forward to balance being restored.

In that spirit, the tribe brought 23 Lower Elwha middle- and high-school students together last week to explore the Elwha River and its scientific and cultural significance. Collaborating in the project were the Olympic Park Institute, a Western Carolina University professor and the National Science Foundation, which provided a grant.

The tribe says the Lower Elwha people were created at a site now beneath the waters of the Elwha Dam reservoir.

With the dam's removal, said Mel Elofson, a member of the tribe and the assistant habitat manager for its fishery, it's important to get the next generation of the tribe interested in science now.

"It would be really nice if they could understand the whole situation of what's going to be happening around them," Elofson said.

The students spent the week outdoors examining the Elwha River as a system, working their way from its upper reaches, above the dams, down to the estuary where it flows into the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

They camped first along the river and later on the shores of Lake Crescent. They conducted water experiments and visited cultural sites. The students also met an archaeologist who, picking up artifacts at his feet, surprised them with the news that they were standing on an ancient settlement site.

One night, tribal elders visited to tell traditional stories in both English and Klallam, the native language. The students thanked them with drumming and songs.

Throughout the week, as they progressed down the river, students took samples of the water and sediment. At the end of the week, they analyzed that data to compare aspects of the ecosystem at various points of the river. They were able to see firsthand how the dams had affected everything from the massive cedar trees to the insects in the mud.

Rob Young, the professor who came up with the idea for the program, said it was important to get the students interested in the science of the river.

"Science isn't something that you have to go to Seattle or Portland to do," Young said. "It's something that can matter to your own community. Restoring this river, which has to be done by scientists, is something that's a cultural restoration, not just an environmental restoration."

On Thursday, with Mount Baker and Vancouver Island visible in the distance, the students spread out along a beach and examined the sand, mud, and water where the river meets the strait.

Young, a coastal geologist, explained how water, wind, people and animals can erode rocks into sand. Before the river was dammed, the beach was sandy, but today much of the shoreline consists of piles of cobblestones.

After the dams come down, it will take years before the ecosystem begins to return to a natural balance, instructors said. One key factor will be if and when the salmon return. With the dams, the salmon have access to only a few miles of a river where they once traveled upwards of 40 miles.

Within a few decades, scientists hope salmon will once again visit the river in the tens of thousands. Learning about the fish was eye-opening for 17-year-old Raelyn Bowechop. The salmon "provided a lot to our people," she said. "I didn't realize it until I came here."

David Montgomery 206-464-3214 or dmontgomery@seattletimes.com