The pristine headwaters of the Klamath River, a lifeblood for the Klamath, Modoc, and Yahooskin peoples, are deeply intertwined with the ancestral lands and cultural identity of the Klamath Tribes. Tribal Chairman William Ray Jr. eloquently describes this profound connection, stating, "The water comes right out of the ground. I know this because I see it. I’ve lived it. And I know where the headwaters come out of." These vital waters converge to form Klamath Lake in southern Oregon, from which the Klamath River embarks on its journey through Northern California to the Pacific Ocean. For millennia, these waters have sustained the anadromous fish that form the cornerstone of the economies, culinary traditions, and medicinal practices of the diverse tribal communities throughout the watershed, including the Yurok Tribe, situated downstream where the river meets the vast Pacific.

In eras past, salmon constituted a remarkable third of the diet for the Klamath peoples, a testament to their abundance and significance. Chairman Ray reveres the salmon, noting, "Creator couldn’t have created a more powerful species," a nod to their extraordinary ability to navigate both freshwater and saltwater environments. He further emphasizes their sacred role, stating, "He created this fish for all the Indians to enjoy." Historically, a crucial trade artery known as the Klamath Trail traversed what is now Oregon, connecting with Celilo Falls on the Columbia River. This ancient and now submerged fishery was not only a vital food source but also an international hub for trade. The Klamath River itself was once renowned as the third-largest salmon producer globally. The medicinal knowledge of the Klamath people was intricately linked to these fish; when an individual fell ill, the specific type of fish and the precise location from which it was harvested – perhaps a c’waam or koptu from a particular bend in the lakeshore, or a specific anadromous species from the river – were critical for its therapeutic application, with parts like the gills or heads boiled to create potent medicinal broths.

However, the construction of dams along the river significantly degraded its ecosystems, leading to the devastating decline of salmon and other anadromous fish populations, effectively severing their return to the upper basin. This ecological devastation also impacted the lake-dwelling fish, forcing the Indigenous peoples of this land to confront profound and painful choices. "We knew that there was something wrong beginning in the ’70s and especially the ’80s," Chairman Ray recounted. "It didn’t take Western science to tell the Indian (with) Indigenous knowledge that something was drastically wrong." The Klamath Tribes convened a series of emotionally charged meetings, ultimately making the heart-wrenching decision in 1986 to voluntarily cease fishing. "It hurt us," Ray admitted. "This was another issue that pecked away at our culture, the viability of it."

He poignantly paraphrased the wisdom of a Umatilla elder with whom he once spoke: "How can you build a tribal traditional economy on species that are endangered?" This is not a theoretical question for the tribes; it represents a stark reality. For instance, when an elder falls ill, Chairman Ray may now face the agonizing necessity of informing them that they cannot access the traditional healing properties of fish from their ancestral waters. "How do you say that to somebody? How?" he questioned, underscoring the deep cultural and spiritual loss associated with this environmental degradation.

Today, however, a powerful wave of change is sweeping through the Klamath watershed, offering renewed hope for its fish and the enduring tribal cultures they support. In a landmark achievement, four aging and inefficient hydroelectric dams on the lower Klamath River were dismantled in October 2024. This monumental undertaking has already facilitated the immediate return of Pacific lamprey, steelhead, fall chinook salmon, and other anadromous fish to the upper basin, a region that had been inaccessible to them for over a century due to the dams. By the close of last year, approximately 20 coho salmon had successfully navigated their way as far as Oregon, according to Jordan Ortega, an anadromous fish specialist for the Klamath Tribes. "Almost all the anadromous species are responding favorably to dam removal," Ortega confirmed, highlighting the swift and positive ecological response. While two dams, the Kino Dam and the Link River Dam, still stand in the upper Klamath River, both are equipped with fish ladders. Though not ideal for all anadromous species, these structures represent a significant improvement over complete blockage.

Earlier this year, a crucial $5.9 million grant was jointly offered by the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) to support tribal salmon restoration efforts, with tribes invited to submit competitive applications. Chairman Ray learned of this vital opportunity through his Yurok relatives downstream. He promptly initiated a series of calls to key stakeholders, including the governor’s office and the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife. The Klamath Tribes had already established a collaborative relationship with the agency, developing a comprehensive plan for fish reintroduction and monitoring natural repopulation following the anticipated dam removal.

However, Chairman Ray encountered an unexpected obstacle: the BIA and NOAA grant was specifically designated for tribes recognized as salmon restoration entities. Due to the prolonged absence of salmon from Klamath ancestral territory for over a century, the federal government did not classify the Klamath Tribes as such, rendering them ineligible to apply. This revelation left Chairman Ray astounded. "We’re trying to put salmon back into our territory, right? So how couldn’t we be a salmon tribe?" he exclaimed, questioning the logic of excluding a tribe actively seeking to revive a species that was once integral to their cultural and ecological landscape.

Fortunately, the solidarity of their downriver relatives provided a crucial lifeline. Mike Belchik, the Yurok Tribe’s senior water policy analyst, immediately stepped in to offer assistance. "First thing I did was contact Bureau of Indian Affairs and said, ‘Can you add Klamath Tribes to the list?’" Belchik stated. According to Belchik, the BIA indicated it was too late in the application process to make such an addition. While the BIA did not elaborate on its criteria for designating salmon restoration tribes, it communicated that the funding opportunity prioritized certain hatcheries involved in raising Pacific salmon stocks. Consequently, the Yurok Tribe submitted the grant application on behalf of both nations, extending an invitation for the Klamath Tribes to join their submission. The BIA ultimately awarded the grant jointly to the Yurok Tribe, the Klamath Tribes, and Oregon Fish and Wildlife. Belchik explained that the Yurok Tribe would serve as an administrative conduit, channeling the funds to the Klamath Tribes and managing the grant’s oversight.

Some observers have perceived a potential for conflict between the Yurok and Klamath Tribes, suggesting a rivalry over water rights, with the Yurok focusing on lower-basin salmon restoration and the Klamath prioritizing water for their lake-dwelling species in the north. However, Belchik firmly refutes this notion, asserting that their relationship has always been one of mutual support and cooperation. "Our council, our leadership, pledged to help the Klamath Tribes in any way they could," he affirmed. "We made a promise to them. When this funding opportunity came up, that’s who we thought of." He further elaborated that an expanded run of spring chinook would benefit both tribal nations. "We have pushed, as have the Klamath Tribes, for the treatment of the entire basin as an ecosystem of which all parts are important," Belchik explained. "It’s heartfelt," he added. "My direction from council is to make that real."

This grant is instrumental in supporting the expansion and deployment of innovative "remote site incubators," as explained by Ortega. These devices, roughly the size of a salmon redd, consist of panels submerged in the water to replicate the ideal conditions for incubating a few thousand fertilized eggs, shielding them from predators and other environmental hazards. "The goal is to establish these remote site incubators across a wide range of thermal and flow regimes. That way there’s as much life-history diversity as possible," Ortega stated. He further clarified that "life-history diversity" refers to a critical aspect of chinook salmon’s evolutionary strategy, encompassing their varied approaches to achieving reproductive success.

Traditionally, salmon exhibit strong homing instincts, returning to spawn in the very locations where they were born, with only a small percentage, approximately 5%, venturing to seek out alternative spawning grounds. However, in a remarkable demonstration of ecological recovery following the dam removals, the Klamath fish have significantly defied this norm. Out of an estimated 60,000 to 70,000 returning salmon, an impressive 13,000 migrated past the former dam sites. "So we’re talking about a much larger fraction than you typically see in the literature," Ortega observed, underscoring the profound impact of the restored river system. When the Klamath Tribes tested the remote site incubators using 10,000 fertilized eggs obtained from the Trinity River Hatchery, they achieved an exceptional hatch-success rate of over 99%, validating the efficacy of this innovative approach.

Just last month, the first spring chinook salmon in over a century successfully returned to the upper basin, a momentous occasion for the region. Ortega noted that, to date, the majority of returning salmon have been fall run chinook. Spring chinook, widely regarded for their superior flavor, have a more restricted distribution, with their primary strongholds being the lower basin, specifically the Trinity River and the Salmon River, areas situated closer to the ocean. Furthermore, spring chinook populations are inherently smaller than those of fall chinook. Consequently, these "springers" require additional support to facilitate their migration to the upper basin, a need that the remote site incubators are specifically designed to address.

Chairman Ray pointed out that many non-Native residents in the area have historically denied the presence of salmon in the upper basin. "There’s a lot of naysayers all over the place saying that we trucked them around the dams and that they were never here. Well, they’re here," Ray stated emphatically. "We have fought so hard since 1909 to get our salmon back, and now the people that see them in the basin, and are non-Indians, now they want to fish them." He recounted overhearing a conversation in a restaurant where individuals expressed excitement about the salmon’s return and their anticipation of fishing them, seemingly unaware of the historical context and treaty rights. "They said, ‘Do you know how awesome it is to have these salmon back? We can’t wait to fish them.’ Well, wait a minute. Let’s back up here a minute. This is a treaty protected resource under the Treaty of 1864," Ray reminded, emphasizing the historical injustices and the tribes’ treaty rights. "We’re the one that’s been harmed here."

Despite these challenges, Chairman Ray expressed gratitude that the historical presence of salmon in Klamath territory is now undeniable. "It’s a blessing by Creator, because now it’s undeniable," he declared. Belchik echoed this sentiment, stating that the "ultimate purpose of dam removal, whether you’re talking fall or spring or steelhead or anything, is that there’s a harvestable surplus for all."

"Everybody’s excited about the return of the fish and what that could ultimately mean," commented Phil Milburn, a wildlife biologist with the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife. "But we are probably years away from having even initial discussions about harvest, because the goal is re-establishment of these species in Oregon." The tribes plan to install the new remote site incubators next year, with adult springers anticipated to return as early as 2030, marking a significant milestone in the long road to ecological recovery.

Chairman Ray noted that the feasibility of restoring the Klamath watershed is partly attributable to the absence of a large urban municipality in the area. "There’s an opportunity for us to set a new standard, to show America that we can restore, as humans, a watershed that’s been degraded for the last 100-plus years," he stated. He expressed immense pride in the leadership of tribal nations in spearheading this restoration effort. "There’s a lot of positive things going on, and we’re fighting like heck," said Ray. "We have to be very speedy. We have to have all cylinders going."