A Promising River
The Yuba River, one of 14 major rivers flowing into the Central Valley, begins in the Sierra as three forks. The North, Middle, and South Yuba cascade over granite boulders and meander down through forests, and support fish, wildlife, and people who come from near and far to enjoy small sandy beaches, water-polished rocks, and quiet pools; to camp, swim, sunbathe, fish, and cool off under trees that arch over clear water. These forks merge near a steep gorge 24 miles east of Marysville, where Englebright Dam was built in 1941.

There’s good habitat for salmon upstream, but salmon can’t get to it. Many perish downstream at the 24-foot-high Daguerre Point Dam; none can get past 260-foot Englebright Dam, 12 miles upstream from Daguerre Point. If these two dams were removed, over 100 miles of upstream salmon habitat would reopen, according to the Upper Yuba River Studies Program, a study commissioned by the Department of Water Resources, completed in 2005. Even in its current dammed state, however, the Yuba meets the basic requirements for habitat restoration, says Hitchcock. It still has a spring run of about 260 Chinook--endangered--and a fall run of about 2,300. In 2007, a total of 2,600 Chinook were counted, with similar counts for 2008, he says. A big plus for the Yuba is the absence of hatcheries that could reduce the genetic integrity of native fish. Water quality is exceptional, water temperatures are suitably cold, and the vast supply of loose gravel in the riverbed is suitable for spawning habitat, as well as being commercially valuable. What’s badly missing are the shaded backwaters and streamside vegetation that juvenile salmon need to grow.

One such haven does exist, though, and we now start hiking downriver toward it. On the opposite bank, the gravel piles are smaller and rounder, and some brush grows at the waterline, backed by summer-gold grassland and, farther on, a dense stand of trees. The ridge we’re walking rises and dips and turns. We come to a sign that says we are entering Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land, climb a small peak to admire an oak growing there--a lone pioneer--then look down at a wider river in which shrubs grow on a midstream gravel bar laced with meandering channels. Across the river is Hammon Grove County Park, with lots of trees, while directly below is that one salmon-friendly spot, the Hammon Backwater.

It’s a quiet off-stream pool shaded by willows and cottonwoods, protected by the wide midstream gravel bar and a curve in the river just downstream. Each year, a few lucky salmon fry are washed into this pool while they are not yet strong enough to negotiate the river current. Here they can grow into six-to-eight-inch fish ready for the precarious journey to the sea.

SYRCL is studying this backwater, with the help of $165,000 from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, with the goal of replicating it elsewhere in the Goldfields. Hitchcock says restoration project costs here need not be unreasonable, because it’s likely that “the river itself will do most of the work if it’s allowed to. Finding the absolute minimum that must be done, and the right spot, is key. Once hydrological studies are complete, maybe all we need to do is cut a channel into a training wall. Because the restoration would be done on BLM land, we can sell the valuable gravel that’s removed, and let riparian vegetation recolonize the site over time.” Among the useful natural forces the river provides are beavers. “Beavers are instrumental in backwater habitat creation and maintenance,” he says. “Juvenile fish can swim through beaver dams to a pleasant, cool, insect-rich environment, safe from predators.” Beavers helped to create the Hammon Backwater.