February 2019 – IPRE Blog

It had rained hard the night before and the mud in the wide parking area squelched under my tires as I pulled in to the Waldo-Takilma Area of Critical Environmental Concern (ACEC). A few white government vehicles, a trailer, and an SUV were already there and unpacking their supplies for the day of dirty work ahead of us.

I had never visited this ACEC before, despite having lived and worked in the Illinois Valley of Southern Oregon for almost three months. It seemed ridiculous that I had initiated, coordinated, and was about to execute this volunteer day without ever having set foot in Waldo-Takilma ACEC until now—a late November morning under dense clouds and a thin sheet of mist. I took a deep breath, fervently hoped that this, my first real event during my RARE AmeriCorps position, wouldn’t be a total bust. Then I hopped out of my car and got to work.

The team of botanists and field technicians from the Bureau of Land Management were hefting gnarly looking equipment to three of the nine work sites we would be planting in. One of their white trucks was filled to the brim with over 3,000 plants. All native species, and all for this huge, neglected, magnificent preservation. And by 9:45AM, the community began to arrive.

The sun finished burning through the clouds after the third, fourth, fifth cars pulled into the lot. Everyone was ready for the rain and in high spirits, decked out in waterproof coats, pants, and many a wide-brimmed hat. The group of nearly 30 volunteers huddled up for brief introductions and a safety check-in, and then we were off, piling into the white truck beds and holding on for dear life as the BLM team maneuvered through gutted trails and rain-sliced potholes.

The mist retreated higher into the surrounding Siskiyou Mountains as our team tackled each swath of damaged land, digging a hole for every plant. The rain had worked up the heaviest, stickiest, meanest mud I have ever trudged through in my life, but I was surrounded by some of the most determined folks I could imagine. After four hours of work, we wearily made our way back to the entrance, where we were met by a bus load of 25 bright-eyed volunteers—local school kids from the science club. For the rest of the day, the Waldo-Takilma ACEC was filled with the sounds of shrill satisfaction as mud was flung and another couple hundred plants made it into the ground.

The mist was starting to drag its way back down the darkening mountains when the bus pulled away. I stood in the lot, flabbergasted, listening to the ecologists’ upbeat banter about Douglas firs and trying to wrap my head around the day. Around the success of this event, which would bring another dozen Illinois Valley residents into the fold of our volunteer program.

I was overwhelmed by the pride I felt for my community. Though this was not a revolutionary day, and building long term health for the watershed was months and years away, I had witnessed the power of this place. The people showed up for what they care about: their home, their neighbors, and their future. And I knew I could count on them to keep showing up.

When I began RARE, I feared that the obstacles already burdening rural communities would mean that people would have no time or interest in volunteering. However, every day in the Illinois Valley has shown me that nothing could be further from the truth, and that this rural community will not be defined by its issues. Though just a stepping stone, the work that was done in the ACEC proved to me that this community is already taking control of their future. I look forward in hope to the rest of my time here, knowing that the programs I help guide into place will be backed by the strength of the Illinois Valley’s residents long after I leave.

About the author: Originally from Massachusetts, Sienna Fitzpatrick recently graduated from Loyola University Chicago with a BA in Environmental Policy. While living in Chicago, she worked and learned alongside diverse communities which shaped her interest in public service with an emphasis on building capacity and supporting sustainability. As the Volunteer Coordinator for Illinois Valley Soil and Water Conversation District, Sienna works in the office and the outdoors, gaining valuable experience in conservation and community engagement.

Does community development work interest you? Are you looking for a life changing experience in rural Oregon? Learn more about serving with the RARE AmeriCorps Program via our website: https://rare.uoregon.edu/application-process/member-application-process

I’ve never been one to plan things too far in advance. Vacations and hiking trips maybe, but not life. Not a career path certainly. Did I ever think I would live in Oregon? Maybe. Did I ever think I would be working to protect the largest remaining coastal sand dunes in North America? Probably not. But as the wind blows, so I am here.

I first saw the Oregon Dunes when I was seven years old. I was very fortunate in this regard as a child – my parents loved taking the most ridiculous family road trips. My mother was an elementary school teacher, and had summers off, and my father was often between jobs; leaving us plenty of time for exploration. That particular summer, my father picked us up right after the last day of school and we drove all the way to Alaska. From Tennessee. Didn’t even go back home first, just hopped in the van and off we went. 8 weeks and probably 20,000 miles later we finally came home, just before the start of the next school year. Out of all the amazing things I saw that summer long ago, the Oregon Dunes stick out in the mind the most. Sure, we had also seen the Badlands, Glacier National Park, the Canadian Rockies, and even Denali on a majestically clear day. But the towering hills of sand on the Oregon coast are what I remember the most.

Nearly twenty-five years later I stand on those same sand dunes. Now I am charged with protecting and restoring them. The Oregon Dunes are disappearing – literally being swallowed by invasive plants that are covering this fragile and unique ecosystem. If nothing is done, within a generation these sand dunes will be nothing more than grassy hills. More than 400 species of plants and wildlife, many found no place else on Earth, will be replaced with a uniform scrubland. More than half a million visitors a year come here, for hiking, camping, and ATV riding. Tourism is an important part of the economy of the small coastal towns near the dunes. To say that a lot is at stake is an understatement.

My work with the RARE program is to help the Oregon Dunes Restoration Collaborative build capacity to become the robust organization it needs to be in order to address the threats to this landscape. Currently the ODRC is a working collaborative with several stakeholders. The Siuslaw National Forest owns and manages the land, and has convened this group to bring more partners and individuals to the table. While the threat is great, we are lucky in other ways. This is no fight over whether to protect or exploit a resource. ATV riders and environmental groups are in agreement. The open sands of the dunes are being lost, and we all need open sand. There will be plenty of room for Snowy Plover to lay their eggs on the beaches, and for ATVs to zoom across the higher dunes inland. But European beach grass will take all of that away if we don’t work to restore the dunes.

Thus far, successes have been hard to measure. It’s going to take a concentrated effort and millions of dollars in restoration projects to truly protect the Oregon dunes. We will honestly never remove European beach grass from the coast. And if we succeed in exterminating it from the dunes, there will always be a need for maintenance to prevent it from growing in again. At times, the work is happening at the slowest of paces. About as slow as the dunes themselves move. My time in RARE is teaching me patience, and continuing to remind me to keep the big picture in mind. “Success” for this year might be writing a strategic plan that will guide the work of the ODRC. The group is not its own independent 501c3 non-profit yet. Part of my work will be to build the framework so that they can potentially apply for non-profit status. Thus far I have gotten the various committees of the ODRC to meet more regularly, set action steps, and begin seeking funding for projects. I have launched our social media pages and e-newsletter, given presentations to elected officials and other stakeholders, and scheduled tours out on the dunes. I have created a wide variety of documents to help track and coordinate the various pieces of the collaborative. Much of what I have done has been to set up systems that the ODRC will use for years to come. I hope to have my own grand success story at the end of this term. Something more tangible like a large grant received or a huge event planned. If not, I have at least helped build capacity within this organization so that they can tackle the threat of invasive beach grasses. Sometimes that internal work is what is needed the most.

I think back to how I got here. How I physically arrived at this point, and how I became the person I am today. The winds have blown all over the place. I have managed youth conservation crews, installed stormwater infrastructure, taught kayaking, promoted bicycle transportation, and now, am preserving a unique coastal ecosystem. I have worked in the environmental field, almost always for nonprofit organizations, for ten years now. It certainly has been rewarding but challenging as well. The RARE program is often the beginning of a great new career for the young professionals in the program. I wonder if, for me, it is the end. At least the end of doing such direct environmental work. The winds seem to be blowing in new directions now. At least for the next few years I am feeling the need to step away to avoid burning out.

The winds that shape the Oregon dunes can be ferocious. Strong summer winds whip up the sand into a stinging barrage. Winter storms push heavy wet sand to form the massive interior dunes. It is an ecosystem totally shaped by wind. And yet, on some days you may never notice them at all. We can’t always see or feel the forces that shape our world. We can’t always feel the winds that shape our lives. Yet we cannot deny that they are present. We cannot ignore the effect they have on the landscape in front of us. If my year in RARE ends and I have shaped the ODRC into a more robust organization, I can be content with that. The wind doesn’t need to be thanked for shaping the dunes.

A bit about the author, Jeff Malik:

Currently serving as Outreach Coordinator for the Oregon Dunes Restoration Collaborative
Jeff earned a Bachelors in Geography from University of Tennessee and a Masters in Public Administration from the University of Dayton
People may be surprised when they learn that I am a passionate amateur artist.

Month: February 2019

When the Clouds Part

Shaped By The Wind – A Season In The Oregon Dunes

Take Action