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Aspire Culture Blog Culture Highlights Native Wild

The Salmon People

During Native American Heritage month, we invite you to take a deeper look  with us at the connection between the first people of the Pacific Northwest and the earth. Learn about the impact of the modern day stewardship of indigenous tribes on our rapidly changing environment through the eyes and experience of Stillaguamish Tribe Marine Biologist Francesca Perez.


“I don’t believe in magic. I believe in the sun and the stars, the water, the tides, the floods, the owls, the hawks flying, the river running, the wind talking. They are measurements. They tell us how healthy things are. How healthy we are. Because we and they are the same…”

-Billy Frank Jr.


When you think of salmon do you envision rivers thick with red fishy backs? Sockeye leaping into the maw of a grizzly bear? Consider old growth cedars, containing ocean-nutrients delivered by eagles dining on spawned out fish. Freshwater mussels hidden in stream gravels, dependent on juvenile salmon for their offspring’s survival.

Consider also the autumn rain run-off swelling creeks with invisible chemicals that kill female coho ripe with eggs.

There are tangles in the Pacific Northwest web of life.

The Salmon People

The salmon we know today evolved millions of years ago. The best adapted species survived the Pleistocene, successfully responding to landscape changes created by the ice ages. They spawn in our rivers and streams, nesting in glacial debris. They hatch and swim downstream to our ocean, where they eat and grow fishable. Those that escape nets and predators return to their birth stream years later, navigating by unseen forces.

The indigenous people of the Pacific Northwest adapted to post-glacial conditions along with salmon, and they thrived in these food-rich, coastal environments. Their complex societies are marked by ceremony, story, art, and trade. Hundreds of thousands of Indians celebrated and served their Salmon Family well for millennia, until European fur traders arrived in the early 19th century.

Settlement

The settlement and resource extraction that followed so completely transformed the landscape that by the 1880s hatcheries were needed to sustain the drain. It addition to vast over-harvest, a gauntlet of obstacles were created that impacted salmon survival.

Removing beavers and their complex infrastructure, diking rivers, and draining estuaries all depleted juvenile salmon habitat by removing wetlands and small channels that support first year development.

Old growth timber harvest, transported by rail along those armored banks, robbed rivers of the wood that creates cool, deep pools for refuge in summer.

Dams blocked off hundreds of miles streams for spawning. And thanks to modern society, regional marine waters have become so laden with chemicals that salmon who grow to adulthood in Puget Sound are a cancer risk to human and orca alike.

Fish managers have reduced harvest by 80-90%, yet salmon populations continue to decline. What can be done?

Stewardship

In the words of UBC Chancellor Steven Point, “We are only borrowing and using the world.”

Health of salmon relates directly to the spiritual and physical well-being of local indigenous people. For this reason, each Tribe in the Puget Sound region dedicates a large percentage of revenue to restore habitat and rebuild salmon stocks. As co-managers ( Boldt Decision 1974 ), Treaty Tribes operate natural resource departments similar to those of the State, but with the luxury of focusing on specific river basins. Tribal governments can streamline priority projects, and are leaders in research, monitoring, and restoration.

Since Chinook were listed as Threatened by the Endangered Species Act in 1999, Puget Sound tribes have worked with State and Federal leaders to channel fiscal resources to help salmon recovery. They co-write management plans, develop land-protection strategies, and review grants for restoration projects. Limited tribal staff often juggle a variety of tasks ranging from sampling plankton to commenting on development permits to walking the rivers each September recording data on spawned out fish (everyone’s favorite).


Restoration work can involve volunteers to replant floodplain forests in winter, or tribal youth to test water quality in summer. Large scale projects restore miles of stream habitat through culvert repair and
small (plus sometimes large) dam removals. Community engagement with stakeholders leads to dike removal, freeing rivers and estuaries to flow and channelize naturally. And millions of salmon fry, that would not otherwise survive, are released from hatcheries every year.

This is but a small sample of indigenous stewardship activities in Puget Sound that provide hundreds of jobs and is leveraged with similar efforts by government agencies. Yet with population growth and climate change, we continue to lose more habitat than can be restored. The work requires continued persistence and creative, inclusive thinking.

Read: The State of Our Watersheds

Stewardship means caring for someone else’s property or space. Indigenous leaders recognize we must care for the land as their ancestors did, not for the next year or next generation, but for the seven generations still to come, and the Salmon People are leading the way.


Keeping the marine environment clean and healthy is a lifelong pursuit that Franchesca is fortunate enough to work toward daily in her job as a biologist for the Stillaguamish Tribe. 

She oversees the Marine Stewardship and Shellfish Program, managing multiple monitoring and research projects, advocating for the Tribe in emerging marine resource issues, and by seeking shellfish harvest opportunities for Tribal members.
Franchesca holds an MS in Marine and Estuarine Science from Western Washington University.  Outside of work, Franchesca enjoys exploring wild places and taking her kids to the beach as often as they’ll let her.

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Aspire Culture Blog courses Culture Destinations Diverse Voices Highlights LCT Lost Coast Trail Stage Native update

The Lost Coast: The Ancestral Lands of the Sinkyone

When we run along the Lost Coast Trail, we’re immersed in wild remote beaches, bold headlands, the salty scent of the North Pacific and the barks of sea lions.  In the King Range Wilderness, we navigate the rhythm of tides and the constantly changing landscape of sand, meadows, redwood forest, and rocky cliffs. We may even be aware that we’re on the southern edge of a coastal temperate rainforest ecosystem-the Cascadia Bioregion- that extends all the way into Alaska. We may know that the cornerstone species of that ecosystem is the Pacific Salmon, and that in recent decades, as the ecosystem has been threatened, a fierce bioregional culture of salmon and forest restoration as grown up in the Lost Coast area, with hundreds of activists and ecologists working hard to preserve the Salmon, Redwoods, and surrounding ecosystem. What we should also acknowledge is that we are traveling through the ancestral homelands of the indigenous Sinkyone people, who live on, and have sustainably managed this region for thousands of years.

Needle Rock on the Lost Coast

Despite such an honorable and beautiful legacy, much of the last two centuries has been a story of tragedy for the Sinkyone, who suffered cultural genocide from settlers and soldiers during the nineteenth century and into the twentieth. Despite such horrors, in recent decades, their story has taken a better turn: after nearly two centuries of dispossession, a consortium of ten federally recognized tribes has created the first intertribal wilderness park of its kind in this region: the Sinkyone Wilderness Park.

Sinkyone History

For millennia, the Sinkyone people of northern California (named for “Sinkikok”-their name for the Eel River watershed) lived in this mountainous, fertile, foggy coast 150 miles north of present-day San Francisco Bay area.  With about seventy villages by the time of European contact, they would winter inland along the South Fork of the Eel river, and in summer, travel to the coast (south of the current area of Spanish Flat) to gather fish, acorns, berries, seaweed, kelp, roots, nuts and seeds.

As part of their sustainable management practices, they would rotationally burn coastal prairies and woodlands to maintain the health and productivity of the ecosystem, and to ensure their sources of food and medicinal plants. Based on cultural practices informed by centuries of evidence-based observation, they also hunted and gathered rotationally, carefully transplanted various plants and animals, and integrated those activities with spiritual practices. The Redwood tree  (called “Kahstcho” in Sinkyone) was considered especially sacred, and was used to create baskets, fish traps, boats, houses, and clothing.


Arrival of Settlers

Starting with the California gold rush of the 1850s, the Sinkyone-along with many other California native peoples-were massacred in less than two decades. Bounties were paid for the scalps of Sinkyone men, women and children. The few remaining Sinkyone were forced into slavery, moved to reservations, or absorbed into surrounding tribes as their land was claimed by mining and timber companies, and logged of most of its best Redwood and Douglas Fir trees.  During the ensuing century-and-a-half, native peoples continued to visit the area for hunting and gathering and ceremonies, but often at their own peril. In the middle of the twentieth century, as chainsaws, bulldozers and skidders changed harvest methods, the rate of logging dramatically increased, resulting in clear-cuts which destroyed the ecosystem, resulting in landslides, and the severe diminishment of the native salmon fisheries. 

Fortunately, the story of the Sinkyone has moved in a better direction in recent decades: Beginning in the 1970s, as logging intensity increased in Mendocino County, a nascent environmental movement was also growing, both nationally and locally. As young environmentalists began to work toward saving the last of the old-growth Redwoods, they began to listen to native people’s stories-both ancestral and more recent-about the land and their relationship to it. During that time, the Sinkyone Wilderness State Park was created.

Environmental Stewardship

In the 1980s, Earth First protestors blocked bulldozers and sat in trees to prevent logging in Sally Bell Redwood Grove-named for a Sinkyone woman who watched American soldiers murder her family. By 1985, Native people and environmentalists won an historic court case- the Sally Bell lawsuit- to stop clearcutting, and the Trust for Public Land acquired thousands of acres of contested land from the Georgia Pacific Corporation, including coastline and old-growth Redwood groves, and some of that land was added to the Sinkyone state park. 

Over the next decade, various government agencies, conservation organizations, and a consortium of ten local tribes-who created the Intertribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council- worked to reconcile different agendas and figure out what to do with one large, remaining upland tract of second-growth redwood and Douglas Fir. The result is the 4000 acre Sinkyone Wilderness Park, created in 1997, which redefines “productive” as more than merely extractive, and also includes ecotourism, salmon and forest stewardship, and wilderness where native people can practice ceremonies and hunt and harvest traditionally. This groundbreaking venture represents the first time tribes have come together to establish a nonprofit organization to acquire land, the first time a government agency has transferred land to Native people under a conservation easement, and it is one of the first times that an easement has tried to specify how forestland can be harvested while simultaneously preserving old growth ecology and forest health. This collaborative easement-which guarantees public access to the adjoining Sinkyone Wilderness State Park while managing the land to support old-growth forests- represents the beginning of a healing, ecologically, culturally, and socially.  It ensures both the continuation of Native culture and the restoration of the land, while creating a model of cooperation between Native people and environmental collaborators that might be used around North America.


When we run the Lost Coast Trail, we run not only through a beautiful landscape. We are guests in the home of people who lived here for millennia, and who are moving forward, despite unbelievable challenges. And because of the efforts of these Native people and their collaborators, we have the chance to run through the part of the longest stretch of permanently protected coastal wilderness in the continental United States. As trail runners, as lovers of wild places, it is important that we honor the history and culture of these people, and the beautiful, ecologically rich land that they share with us.


To learn more about the Sinkyone and the work of the Intertribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council. 

https://www.sinkyone.org/


Ian Ramsey

With three decades spent exploring the PNW and Alaska, Ian is based in Maine, where he directs the Kauffmann Program for Environmental Writing and Wilderness Exploration, and teaches writing, ecology, brain science, music and mindfulness to high school students. With over two decades leading trips and expeditions across the US, Alaska and internationally, he loves empowering people to take agency in their lives and discover new places. Ian is a poet and graduate of the Rainier Writing Workshop, and his writing has been featured in places like Terrain.org, Orion and High Desert Journal.  He also directs a community steelband, loves kayaking big water, drinks copious amounts of coffee, geeks out around nutrition, literature and fitness, and was once a member of an Inuit Dance Troupe.

Check out his website at Ianramsey.net

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Aspire Culture Blog courses Culture Destinations Diverse Voices Highlights Native YOSE Yosemite Backcountry Stage

Running on Stolen Land: Yosemite National Park

Developing a sense of context provides support for the deep connections to ourselves, each other, and the land that we celebrate on our trips. As part of our commitment to community and context, we are educating ourselves on the indigenous lands where we run trips… learning about the people who call these lands home, the forced succession of their homelands, their traditional lifeways , modern challenges, and the roles they play in land stewardship and conservation.

Coming off of a month of beautiful trips in Yosemite National Park, we share what we’ve learned Miwok people who inhabited the valley for thousands of years before the arrival or white settlers in the 1850’s.


Yosemite National Park is known for its dramatic natural landscapes boasting incredible waterfalls, giant sequoia trees, and towering granite domes.  It became a National Park in 1890 and continues to hold its sense of awe and appreciation among those who visit.

While Yosemite is known as a world-class destination for climbers and outdoor enthusiasts alike, the history and unfortunate harm of the Indigenous communities in the Valley is important for present visitors to acknowledge and also have an increased awareness of the Indigenous land management and cultural practices that make these natural areas a better place for all.  


History

The area we now refer to as Yosemite National Park is the traditional homelands of the Ahwahnechee people, a Southern Sierra Miwok Indigenous Nation who lived in the Ahwahnee (Yosemite) Valley.  Ahwahnee was a Miwok word to describe the open mouth of a bear, similar to how the First Peoples viewed the open end of their valley. 

For over 5,500 years the valley had an abundance of natural resources that allowed the Indigenous people to thrive off the land. This drastically changed around 1848, when word of gold in the area brought a flood of settlers to Yosemite. This gold rush resulted in a violent clash between the Native Americans and the new coming colonists, driving the Miwok Nation out of their homeland to mine the area for gold. 

During this period, the Southern Sierra Miwok Nation suffered from violent dispossession, relocation, and economic disadvantage in their ancestral homeland from the militia group, Mariposa Battalion.  This state funded militia group waged a seven month war, systematically burning villages and food supplies, thus forcing the Indigenous Communities from their land. The Native Americans eventually relented, were captured, and were forced to relocate to a reservation, ending the tribal habitation of Yosemite Valley and beginning a new era of the settlers.

Within a year’s time, the Ahwahneechee resettled throughout the valley, but in 1864, President Abraham Lincoln designated the Yosemite Valley as a protected area.  While the efforts were made to conserve the natural environment, the newly protected region brought a rush of tourism to the valley, which further lessened the control the Miwok had of their ancestral lands. 

Petitions for Yosemite to become a National Park began in 1889 when John Muir came to the valley.  At the time, the area was preserved as a forest reserve by the State Government but officially became a part of the National Park Service in 1890.

While the creation of the Park meant environmental preservation in the Valley, it further restricted the Ahwahneechee people from using their land for cultural and traditional purposes. By 1935 the South Sierra Miwok Nation was completely relocated from their lands and were threatened with fines, arrest, and further banishment from the park if not obeyed.


Fighting for Federal Recognition

Despite a dark past of displacement, the Indigenous groups of Yosemite have continued to advocate and lobby for federal recognition and use of their ancestral lands by working with the National Park Service. In 1980, the American Indian Council of Mariposa County (AICMC) was approved for the construction of a new Indigenous Cultural center in the Valley. In 1987, they were approved for the first Native American Relationship Management Policy to outline the importance of Indigenous Americans in the National Park management. 

While Yosemite works with the AICMC to better explain the Native American history of the Valley, most of the information and museums in Yosemite still highlight the settlers’ history instead of the Ahwahneechee history. 

Currently, the Southern Sierra Miwok people are “seeking self-determination, self-governance, and acknowledgment through the federal recognition process. This designation will allow [their] tribe to acquire tribal sovereignty rights. Federal recognition allows access to further health benefits, scholarships for higher education, funding opportunities to support [their] wellbeing and cultural continuance.” (Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation). 

As explained by the Miwok Nation, the motivation for the federal acknowledgement is to support and work with the underlying issues of fundamental justice for their people.  The hope is to “significantly enhance and facilitate this interaction by establishing a formal government-to-government relationship” through self-sovereignty, child welfare, additional federal support programs, revenue sharing trust funds, educational assistance, environmental protection and land acquisition, and protection of Indigenous cultural sites, and traditional gathering and other interest in their ancestral lands.

Ultimately, with the number of people traveling to Yosemite rising each year the importance to acknowledge, support, and campaign for the preservation and rights of the Southern Sierra Miwok Nation increases.  As trail runners and outdoor enthusiasts, it’s important we not only learn the true history of these wild spaces, but also support and help in the federal recognition of the first inhabitants of these regions we enjoy so much. 


For additional information and ways to support the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation see below:  

Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation https://www.southernsierramiwuknation.org/federal-recognition 

Native Land – Me-Wuk (Southern Sierra Miwok)

Yosemite Mariposa County 

Indian Country Today https://indiancountrytoday.com/archive/native-history-yosemite-national-park-created-on-native-homelands 

The Yosemite Valley Native Americans 

https://ppaccone.medium.com/the-yosemite-valley-native-americans-f89957da5f18

Kara Folkerts

Kara Folkerts is a plant powered trail runner, sustainable travel advocate, yoga teacher, and passionate about all things sustainability, travel, health, and outdoor movement.  Originally from Canada, Kara has spent the last few years exploring and living abroad in various countries across the globe before joining the Aspire crew in 2020. Kara has been guiding various trail running, sustainability, and health retreats internationally since completing her undergrad in Ecotourism and Outdoor Leadership.  With all of these experiences, she seeks meaningful connections with others, loves to learn of new cultures, and fosters the mindset of a lifelong learner.  With a big heart for trail running and exploring wild places, she’s always stoked to get out there with others. 

She writes about all her adventures on her blog at www.karafolkerts.com and on her instagram @karafolkerts