A simple idea: Eliminate the trees, stabilize the
levees, save a town. But things are seldom what they
seem.
Ask officials of Benewah County, Idaho. In
February, they cut down hundreds of cottonwoods to stabilize levees
on the St. Joe River in the town of St. Maries. They wanted to
prevent a repeat of last year's disastrous flooding, and satisfy
Army Corps of Engineers levee maintenance rules to qualify for a $2
million federal grant to rebuild the town's century-old
levees.
What they did was violate much of the
major federal and Idaho environmental legislation of the last 25
years.
Now, as the St. Joe River swells under
this past winter's unusually heavy snowpack, and flooding worries
intensify, the county dangles in a bureaucratic twilight zone that
involves three federal agencies, environmentalists, and angry
riverside residents whose property includes the
levees.
At issue are concerns that, when flood
waters saturate levee soil, trees fall, pulling up roots as they go
down and leaving a levee full of holes. So the county cut 278 trees
to appease its fears and those of some private landowners behind
the levees. Then the Army Corps of Engineers weighed in, requesting
that the county lop off all trees more than four inches in diameter
to meet federal levee maintenance
requirements.
All this happened before the Idaho
Department of Lands accused the county of violating the state
Forest Practices Act and the federal Clean Water Act, and before
the Audubon Society and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service invoked
the Endangered Species Act to stop the cutting. The county hadn't
realized what some residents along the river knew well-the trees
were winter feeding roosts for bald eagles, not to mention habitat
for other raptors, songbirds, ducks and tundra
swans.
"I came home from work one day and 20
trees were gone from my backyard," says Sandy Thatcher, a St.
Maries resident who lives along the river. "They didn't even ask us
if they could cut them."
That was before the
logger died - killed by a cottonwood he'd been cutting for the
county less than an hour before the federal biologists and Audubon
people arrived to halt the work. "This whole thing is unfortunate,"
says George Currier, the county's emergency management coordinator
who helps oversee levee work. "We got caught between federal
agencies."
And, now that the tree-cutting is
finished, Benewah County's grant money is caught between the
federal Economic Development Administration and the U.S. Fish and
Wildlife Service as they settle on a plan to restore the lost trees
and eagle habitat on a six-mile zone along the river. Fish and
Wildlife biologists say the cutting was unnecessary because tree
roots serve to bind levee soil, not destabilize it. Their plan
includes replanting trees behind the levees and building temporary
eagle perches - wood platforms atop 60-foot
poles.
Meanwhile, with mountain snowpack at twice
its normal level - near 20 feet in the Bitterroots - the St. Joe
River has risen four feet above flood stage. The levees are
containing the water so far, but Currier says mountain temperatures
are still low and snow continues to fall. "We're going to have
serious water," he warns. "There's no doubt about it." Anticipating
that water might spill over the levees in mid-May, he has workers
stockpiling sandbags and shoring up levee banks with rock. He adds,
however, that these are preventive measures and not what is really
needed - major reconstruction of levees weakened by decades of
vegetation and water erosion.
So who's really to
blame? The Idaho Audubon Council points at the Army Corps, which it
says violated the Endangered Species Act and the National
Environmental Policy Act by not doing an environmental assessment
before the trees were cut; the Idaho Department of Lands blames the
county for ignoring bank stability and fish habitat, which is where
the Clean Water Act comes in; the Fish and Wildlife Service says
fault lies with the county, the Corps, and the Economic Development
Administration for not worrying about bald eagles; the Corps and
the EDA say they are just following regulations. The county blames
everybody.
To George Currier, however, the
solution is still simple: Rebuild the levees. "This whole process,"
he says, "has made us more vulnerable to flooding."
* Peter
Chilson,
HCN associate
editor






