Tuolumne River Trail Nears Completion: A Short Explore Along a Priceless River

The value of a river can be measured in so many ways, and the Tuolumne River here in California is no exception. It has headwaters in the spectacular high country of Yosemite National Park, flows through a gorge as deep as the Grand Canyon, gets trapped for a time in Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, and later in Don Pedro Reservoir. Then the river sort of falls out of public perception. It drains onto the floor of the Great Valley at Waterford, sort of sneaks past the city of Modesto, and joins with the very shrunken San Joaquin River before flowing into the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta, and then into San Francisco Bay.

But what are the most important parts of a river? The scenery of the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne and Tuolumne Meadows is unmatched, one of the most beautiful places in the world. But farmers and city planners could care less about the scenery up in the mountains. Their lives are dominated by acre-feet and cubic feet per second, the measures of how much water in the river is available for agricultural, industrial and domestic use. What gets lost in the shuffle is that downstream part, past the spectacular parks and huge reservoirs. That part of the river in the long run might be the most important.

The Great Valley of California is one of the most productive landscapes on planet Earth. We subsumed most of it, 95%, for our own purposes, but the valley still supports a stunning variety of plant and animal life. In my own county alone, more than 300 bird species have been sighted at one time or another. Vast numbers of Arctic-breeding birds, Snow Geese, Sandhill Cranes, Cackling Geese, Ross's Geese, and White-fronted Geese still spend the winter in the small wildlife refuges that preserve a portion of the wetlands that once existed in the valley.

A Northern Flicker, a type of woodpecker, on a dead oak tree along the river trail.

Many of these facts are unknown to the children of our valley (and yes, their parents and grandparents too). Many of them live next to some of these arteries of life that flow past their towns, and the birds, insects and other animals lurk unseen just a few blocks from their homes. There is a huge need for nature education for these students, and the rivers are marvelous outdoor laboratories.

Foundations for a stairway that will provide access to the river. It's within walking distance of three schools.

So I'm excited by a few developments in the last few months. I've written a great deal about the Great Valley Museum on my campus in Modesto, but something else is happening right in my own backyard in Waterford. The small city has recognized the value of the beautiful river flowing nearby and is putting the finishing touches on a two-mile long river trail that will include interpretive signs and chances to see wildlife, as well as water-related recreation. An opening ceremony will take place on November 21.

A female Phainopepla. The males are pure black. This is the first time I've seen one around here.

I've been walking the river trail for months now, watching the progress. Today's walk was unusually rich in wildlife discoveries. Standing under a native Elderberry I saw a half dozen bird species, including Yellow-rumped Warblers, Vireos, a Black Phoebe, a Scrub Jay, a finch, and for the first time for me, a Phainopepla! I've seen them in the deserts east of the Sierra Nevada, but never here at home.

A Black Phoebe, a species of tyrant flycatcher.

It's been a tough year for wildlife as we suffer through another year of unprecedented drought. The rivers have been low and choked with invasive Hyacinth, but they've continued to flow, providing life for the birds, the mammals, and the fish, including the salmon. Until the San Joaquin River is rehabilitated, the Tuolumne River is pretty much the southernmost river providing at least some refuge to the endangered Chinook Salmon. The low flows have contributed to declines in their population. But life persists. And soon our children will have better opportunities to see the birds and other animals in their native habitats.

A Yellow-rumped Warbler

It's so easy to live in our insulated homes and ignore that we are part of a larger ecosystem. Preservation of our river and valley environments provides us an opportunity to learn more about our place in the greater scheme of things. Next time you are heading up to Yosemite National Park, or to the reservoir for some recreation, stop in Waterford and check out our modest effort to explain the value of the lower Tuolumne River. It's not Yosemite, but it has its own separate kind of beauty.

I'm not sure what kind this one is, but others I've seen around this shrub have been Black-chinned Hummingbirds.

One of California's Most Precious and Endangered Ecosystems: Riparian Oak Woodlands

Sunset at Caswell Memorial State Park

Ask people who know California what ecosystem has declined in area by more than 90%, and chances are they will answer "the Redwood forests". And they would be right. But given that there were once millions of acres of Redwood forests, it is also true that there are still a few large wilderness areas in the Redwoods, including a national park and many state parks. 

The Stanislaus River in Caswell State Park

If they think a little harder, they will answer "and also the prairies and grasslands of the Great Valley", and they will also be right. Almost all the native grasslands have been co-opted by agriculture, and that is kind of a shame, because the losses are continuing today as "hedge-fund" almond orchards are eating up tens of thousands of acres of grasslands with no secure source of irrigation water.

As they think more deeply, and develop a sad look because they don't like the direction these thoughts have gone, they will answer "and also the riparian oak woodlands". And they will once again be sadly right. The Great Valley once had hundreds and hundreds of miles of dense woodlands along the many rivers that flow out of the Sierra Nevada and into San Francisco Bay. Most of those woodlands have disappeared as levees were built, floodplain farms were planted and rivers were dammed (damned), cutting off the flow of the water. Precious few areas remain of these gloriously chaotic forests.

We spent the afternoon in one of the small remnants of these riparian (river) forests. Caswell Memorial State Park preserves 258 acres (about 2/5 of a square mile) of woodlands along the Stanislaus River near Ripon and Modesto. It's been developed at one end into a campground and picnic area, but the rest is managed as a de facto wilderness area, traversed only by a few trails, and consisting mostly of dense oak forest with an impenetrable undergrowth of shrubs and bushes (including a lot of poison oak, which discourages off-trail travel.

A "slough", or abandoned river meander in Caswell Memorial State Park

It's a popular summer destination for the locals, with a nice picnic area and a sandy beach along a slow moving stretch of river. During weekdays, many local schools take their kids on field trips, but on this late Friday afternoon we had the entire park to ourselves. Not a single other person in either parking lot. We happily wandered along some of the trails as the sun sank low onto the horizon, which wasn't visible because of the dense forest (see that top picture).

The park was once the home of the Yokuts people, but their populations were decimated after European contact. The Spanish missions, smallpox, malaria, and war with the Mexican Army eventually ended their existence in this region. The Stanislaus River is named after Estanislao, a Native American who led a rebellion against the Mexicans in 1829.  Decades later the lands were purchased by Thomas Caswell, and in 1950 the land was given to the state of California to preserve the woodlands.

Despite its small size the park preserves the only known natural habitat of the Riparian Brush Rabbit (Sylvilagus bachmani riparius), a subspecies of the Cottontail.  The original counts in the early 1990s suggested that only 200 or 300 of the rabbits remained, but the floods of 1997 were catastrophic, and only a few seemed to have survived in the park. Some were later found living in the San Joaquin Delta area, and a small population has been established at a ranch just downstream. Many of the rabbits have been captive-bred, trying to ensure their survival.

We might have been alone in the human sense, but the trees were alive with birds. They were mostly small and constantly moving so we weren't particularly successful in getting photographs, but we saw Ducks, Egrets, Juncos, Warblers, Starlings, Flickers, Vultures, and Hawks (and many others we couldn't identify), and we heard Sandhill Cranes in the near vicinity.

There were more than a dozen Turkey Vultures roosting in the trees above the river. I admit it was a little bit creepy having them all staring at us...

I was also lucky enough to catch one fairly sharp shot of a Northern Flicker, a species of woodpecker, in the trees above us. I heard it before I saw it...

Caswell Memorial State Park is a special place, well-loved by many people in the local region. Given that most of them see it when the weather is hot, the picnic areas crowded, and the grass dead and brown, they would have been surprised at the serenity of the place this afternoon. It's a great place to see what the valley was once like, and still could be today, if we continue our vigorous efforts at reclaiming some of the wetlands for nature.