february 2014 | by susan jurasz
As we stand on the deck, the Forest Service hydrologist describes the lake that once lapped at the base of the uprights. It had been a reservoir locked behind an old dam. Today, the view is of alders and willow on a lush floodplain. The dam was removed in 2009 and the river restored to its meandering path.
The loss of the reservoir has been devastating to locals who grew up learning to swim at Hemlock Lake, but over the past 100 years, silt and sand deposited by the river had left the water only a few feet deep - potentially lethal to kids who jumped from the bridge and too warm for the few steelhead trying to pass. It is a bittersweet story to interpret. The restoration efforts are outstanding, 50,000 cubic yards of silt were removed, the dam deconstructed, and the freed river is now teeming with healthy steelhead.
But for a lot of locals, the occasion doesn't feel like a celebration. The picnic area is quiet. For myself, without a history at this site, the beauty of the natural river, flowing free and wild, is inspiring - in the face of climate change, where progress is defined as ever spanning towns and cities, this place represents a small miracle.