Kelpie Wilson, Siskiyou Regional Education Project

Kelpie Wilson is executive director of the Siskiyou Regional Education Project, a grassroots network formed to protect the wild forests and rivers of the Klamath-Siskiyou bioregion in northwest California and southwest Oregon.

How exactly does a new national monument come into being, anyway? Going by what you see on the news, it starts when Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitt shows up in a white helicopter to look over the landscape. He makes a recommendation to the White House, and a few weeks later, President Clinton, flanked by forest rangers and happy schoolchildren, signs a monument proclamation and the deed is done.

Of course, in reality, there's a lot more to it. Staff at the Siskiyou Project have been working day and night for months now to prepare our proposal for the Siskiyou Wild Rivers National Monument, along with an economic study, a brochure, a website, a slide show, and press materials. Then there are the hundreds of phone calls and emails, as well as trips to Washington, D.C., trying to get on the administration's radar screen. It's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. We've got to keep at it, because there is only a small and shrinking window of opportunity for this monument designation to take place: between now and Jan. 20, 2001, when the new president will take office.

Yesterday was one of those office days where at the end it's hard to say exactly what I did. I talked with Romain about answering some of the letters we've gotten on the monument proposal, did some brainstorming with Cathy about our fall newsletter, got an update from Linda on our major donor campaign, and conferred with Barry on our plans for another public forum this evening. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch and read Funny Times while I was eating. A primitive coping mechanism, but it works.

Sometimes it all gets to be too much for me, and that's when I know I've got to take a day off and go for a hike. We're lucky because we actually live in this beautiful place we are trying to save. So, a half-hour drive up the road and I'm at a wilderness trailhead.

Last weekend, my husband George and I hiked into the upper watershed of the East Fork Illinois River. Fall is in the air and the Jeffrey pines are getting that rusty look as the old needles turn red. Soon the rains will wash them off, leaving the younger growth, and the Jeffreys will brighten up again. Lush as a spring flower, the late-blooming gentian is now making an appearance at springs and seeps along the trail. I love to stare into the blue spirals of the blossoms and lose myself in their rich depth of color.

After a bit, we headed down to the river itself, and began rock-hopping upstream. We stopped at a lovely turquoise pool to take a dip -- the water was so icy that it was a brief dip indeed. Sitting on the bank, we admired the speckled trout. There were dozens of them in this small pool, including a big eight-incher who ruled the pool. Or maybe not, because as we were watching the trout I saw a sizable snake swimming under the water. It had a diamond pattern and as I watched, it swam under a submerged rock and hid. "Can rattlesnakes hold their breath?" I asked George. George didn't think it was a rattler, but I took no chances and got my shoes back on. As we stood, intently watching that rock to see when the snake would emerge, I saw something else in the pool. A tiny golden eye seemed to stare up at me from the depths. Soon I saw that it was a Pacific giant salamander, hanging motionless in the water, slowly pumping its feathered gills.

But where was that snake? All this time I had barely taken my eyes from the pool, but suddenly the snake's head breached the surface and darted toward a big, sun-drenched rock. Slowly, the snake inched the rest of its body onto the warm rock. Now we were the motionless ones, as we waited for the tail to appear. Is this a buzzworm or no? "It's too long and skinny," said George. Finally, the snake lifted a slender, pointed tail out of the ice water. Instantly, it seemed, every muscular tension left as that long body relaxed completely onto the sun-warmed rock. Or maybe it was just me, relieved that it was not a rattler! At home, the field guide said it was a western aquatic garter snake, which can have a variety of markings, including a diamond pattern.

Want to see more pictures of the Siskiyou Wild Rivers area? You can take a virtual tour of the Siskiyou forests, rivers, and wildflowers. While you're there, please send a message to President Clinton urging him to proclaim a national monument here before he leaves office. If you want to do more, help spread the word! Send an email to everyone in your address book and ask them to check out this Grist diary and the Siskiyou Rivers website. Thank you!