The Mighty Yellowstone: A Magnificent And Beleaguered River?
After the legendary river flooded 25 years ago, hard lessons were learned but are they being forgotten? Livingston resident Dennis Glick offers this perspective
The Yellowstone as it flows through Paradise Valley with the Absarokas rising behind. Generations of advocates have rallied in defense of the iconic Yellowstone to prevent it from being tamed by dam-builders, unscrupulous land developers, and others. But Covid times have accelerated real estate sales and the desire by some to impose their will on this watery gem and globally-famous trout river. The Yellowstone is the longest-flowing undammed river in the Lower 48 and it originates in the mountains above Yellowstone Park in the Bridger-Teton National Forest of Wyoming. Today in Livingston, Montana, proponents of a new community recreation center want to build the facility not far from the river's edge. River corridors are among the most important for wildlife and the scenic views are embedded in the character of Livingston and Paradise Valley themselves. Photo courtesy Mary Harrsch/Flickr/CC 2.0
EDITOR'S NOTE: Recent years have brought increasing human pressures upon the near-mythical rivers of Greater Yellowstone, from escalating volumes of recreation, residential subdivisions including "glamping" developments right along rivers' edges, to dewatering tributaries in summers of low precipitation, oil and septic system spills and fish kills caused by warm and lower flows, a consequence of climate change. In the perspective piece that follows, longtime Livingston resident and professional conservationist Dennis Glick shares thoughts about the Yellowstone River whose ecological health is tied closely to the character of his community.
by Dennis Glick
Think back 25 years, though it seems like it was just yesterday. We had a new baby at our home on South Yellowstone Street in Livingston, Montana near Sacajawea Park which fronts the legendary Yellowstone River that is itself a signature natural wonder of our town.
As you know, new babies make their presence known, regardless of the time of day, or night. But whatever time we tended to his needs. Yet in the background, I remember well, was an incessant “Beep, Beep, Beep”—the backup warnings of heavy equipment dumping tons of rock and dirt along the flowing Yellowstone in a frantic effort to build an emergency levee to hold back raging spring flood waters.
It was early June 1996—the first of two epic back-to-back flood years where the Yellowstone threatened to overtop its banks and wreak havoc on our river community. Before it was over, a giant levee stretched along the river through town all the way to Mayor’s Landing. It was so large that it blocked the road through Sacajawea Park and was dubbed, “The Great Wall of Livingston.”
Meanwhile in Paradise Valley, landowners scrambled to protect properties that were being nibbled, and in some cases, gouged away by the powerful floodwaters born of snowmelt in the mountains and rain. Armoring the river’s edge with riprap was transforming once natural banks of the Yellowstone into piles of rock— a last-ditch effort to halt the loss of valuable real estate.
While totally understandable, this “riprap anarchy” threatened to transform the longest free-flowing river in the Lower 48 states into a waterway where the dams don’t cross the river, but rather parallel it.
Eventually, flood waters receded. The levee was lowered. And a successful lawsuit against the US Army Corps of Engineers for failing to assess the cumulative effects of all that rubbled bank stabilization brought an end to the wholesale issuance of riprapping permits.
But no one was happy about any of this. And talk about a wake-up call! Clearly, we as local residents were unprepared to deal with these periodic floods in a manner that did not damage the river. Nor were we taking appropriate steps to make certain that people and property, especially new developments, were kept out of harm’s way.
In response, the governor of Montana, Mark Racicot, called for creation of an “Upper Yellowstone River Task Force” made up of diverse individuals who had a stake in the future of the river—everyone from ranchers, to realtors, business owners, anglers, conservationists and scientists. Their charge was to develop a shared understanding of issues, competing values, and uses that impact the river.
This group labored voluntarily for several years. And they brought in many experts to help them grapple with these challenging problems brought to the fore by the complicated nature of river hydrology. The results included important technical papers that shed considerable light on the impacts of a constantly shapeshifting river on the environment as well as our communities and economies. They also addressed the effects that human activities, from development to agrarian pastimes to dewatering to trying to control the river, were having on the health of the Yellowstone, known around the world for its trout fishing.
This collaborative process culminated in a report and list of recommendations arrived at through consensus regarding river conservation and management. And these were based on a much-improved understanding of its ecology, its values, the needs of property owners and our communities, and of the river itself.
If there was one primary take-home message from all of this work, it was that while we consider flooding to be a “disaster,” it is an essential ecological process that is needed if we want to maintain a healthy river system. Together, we learned the importance of a wild river having room to breathe and move through its corridor, as it has done over many millennia.
Fast forward 25 years. Have we learned any lessons from that experience which was perhaps best summed up by a headline in the June 10, 1996 edition of The Livingston Enterprise: “A river runs over it”? More importantly, have we taken to heart the recommendations of the Upper Yellowstone River Task Force?
I would say in some cases yes, however in others, no. Yes, our understanding of river ecology continues to improve thanks to some excellent research. But are we utilizing it?
Top photo: Imagine if much more of Paradise Valley were peppered by sprawling subdivisions? Photo by Todd Wilkinson. Above: A few years ago, lovers of the Yellowstone River received a wake-up call when thousands of fish died in the middle of summer, killed by a microscopic parasite that thrived in warm and low water conditions linked to drought (and climate change). The outbreak caused wildlife officials to shut down fishing and recreational rafting because of stress on fish populations. Photo courtesy Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks
Just a few years ago concerns raised by river experts about siting the new hospital so close to the Yellowstone were generally ignored. Current talk about building a multi-million-dollar Livingston recreation center at the edge of the river runs counter to the Task Force recommendation to prohibit building additional school related facilities in that area.
During discussions related to the otherwise excellent new Livingston Growth Policy, some recommendations aimed at increasing river protection were deemed unnecessary by the City Planning Department. Rural develop in Paradise Valley continues unabated and seems poised to significantly increase. And river recreation is exploding, with any talk of management or limitations avoided like the plague.
Then there are new challenges to the health and well-being of the Yellowstone that we were unaware of in the 1990s, such as climate change and the introduction of exotic species, including new diseases affecting fish and wildlife. Talk about cumulative effects! Nowadays when I think about the Yellowstone River, two words come to mind: “magnificent” and “beleaguered.”
If we truly love the Yellowstone—and there is still so much to love—then we have to accept the fact that a laisse faire approach to how it is managed will not conserve it in the long run. Significant and comprehensive management of everything from land use and development, to recreation and fishing, needs to not only be accepted, but enthusiastically demanded. And we, as river stewards, need to practice restraint in regard to how we use the river for recreation and other purposes, where we build our homes, and how we develop our personal property and our communities.
Label me whatever you want. But I ask you this: What is your vision for the future of the Yellowstone River 25 years down the road? Because 25 years ago, Park County, Montana was a very different place than it is today. And if current trends continue, it’s likely to be significantly more developed in the future. It’s a miracle that the Yellowstone River remains as vital as it is.
But for how long?
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About Dennis Glick
Dennis Glick, a proud three-decade-long resident of Livingston, Montana, has been involved in community and wildlife conservation for more than 40 years. Early in his career he worked with World Wildlife Fund in Central America, advancing collaborative approaches to national park creation with local people, including members of indigenous tribes in a couple of different nations. Later, he spearheaded community conservation efforts in the Greater Yellowstone/Northern Rockies for the Greater Yellowstone Coalition and Sonoran Institute. Recently, he retired after serving as director of the nonprofit Future West.
