The Throughline.
by Laurie McCann #what’s-most
The River Beckons
One day in June 1973, a small yellow raft pushed onto the beach at Rose Creek, four intrepid paddlers spilled out of the boat, tossed their horse collar PFD’s on the beach and headed up the creek to make like otters in the water slides. I stepped off the back of the boat, shucked off the wet tennis shoes and collapsed on the beach.
Until that day, the Class II section of the Stanislaus River, from Parrott’s Ferry Bridge to the tailwaters of the old Melones reservoir, constituted the sum total of my rafting experience. Miraculously, with no river experience, no training and no idea of what was awaiting us downstream, we had managed to navigate Death Rock, Widow Maker, and Bailey Falls.
Alongside the mental fatigue and physical exhaustion, an unfamiliar and almost intangible sensation of wonder and well-being reverberated through my body. I fell asleep in the warm sand, until the hikers returned. Back into the boat, paddle forward! And my life was changed forever: “Simply messing…about in boats – or with boats… In or out of ’em it doesn’t matter. “
What’s the most important?
In September, I found myself hustling shoppers in Marin County to qualify Prop 17 for the November 1974 state ballot. The defeat of Prop 17 was crushing to the many hundreds of volunteers and dedicated staff who had worked so hard to save the irreplaceable river we all loved. In Tim Palmer’s words, “The canyon lost. Friends of the River lost. Most people cried. A few tried to be strong, to say that they could do it again, but the energy was gone replaced by hard unmitigated despair. Men and women drifted away into the early morning darkness.” (Stanislaus, the Struggle for a River.)
A small cadre of river defenders did regroup around the indomitable Mark Dubois. The FOR office (Mark’s house) was always buzzing with a new strategy – including everything from statewide initiatives, congressional legislation, state legislation, publicity campaigns, lawsuits, and executive orders. A Bay Area office was set up at Fort Mason in San Francisco, California. As a Board member of the new FOR Foundation, I spent many wonder-filled days taking people down the river, introducing press, legislators, foundation executives, and potential donors to the beauty of the canyon, and the pure-hearted fun of splashing down the rapids.
Follow your Heart
In September 1978, I took on the new role of FOR Administrative Director, with Mark serving as Campaign Director. My heart said “YES!” to throwing in with such an amazing group of people and another chance to save the river. I set up my office in the laundry room at San Miguel Way. Space was cleared for a desk and chair. I may have had a phone. Probably a typewriter. For two years, I was tasked with managing the organization that fought the last days of the statewide Stan campaign, from San Diego to Arcata.
Working with young, passionate, high-autonomy river-loving activists included harassing them to turn in their receipts so I could reimburse their expenses; preparing budgets that were usually inadequately funded and rarely implemented; and facilitating staff meetings with emotions running high. There were always many opinions on which actions should be implemented, and little experience in engaging consensus-building strategies to reach agreement on how to move forward.
With the flooding of the river canyon in 1980, a diaspora more drastic than that of 1974, dispersed the campaign staff across the state. Many went on to work for established environmental organizations – Environmental Defense Fund, Natural Heritage Institute, Save the Bay, Save the Redwoods, Natural Resources Defense Council, Sierra Club. The network of volunteer activists and river guides dispersed as well. I signed up with James Henry River Journeys to work spring and summer of 1981 on the South Fork American, the Salmon, Snake, and Rogue Rivers.
“The sound of the rivers says what I think” (Chuang-tzu)
By the fall of 1981, leaders of key organizations – Tuolumne River Expeditions, the Sierra Club, Friends of the River, the three family camps along the forks of the Tuolumne River, the Audubon Society – came together like a braided river to create the Tuolumne River Preservation Trust (TRPT). John Amodio, fresh from leading the successful national campaign for Redwoods National Park, signed on as Executive Director. He asked me to join the Trust as Associate Director, in charge of outreach and fundraising. While I had been crushed like everyone else by the loss of the Stan, time and distance had somewhat mended my heart. Also, by then I had spent many days rafting, kayaking, hiking and camping along the incomparable Tuolumne (T). Anger and idealism fused into a big NO to the proposed new dams on the Tuolumne and a big YES to the campaign, to the river.
In 1984, the T was designated by Congress as a Wild and Scenic River. In 1985, I left TRPT and began doing fundraising, outreach and organizational development for local and statewide nonprofits. This work ultimately landed me back in Sacramento as the interim Executive Director of Friends of the River 1994-1996.
With the support of outstanding staff (too many names to mention – you know who you are!) and key leaders in the river conservation, environmental funding and outfitting communities, we were able to reverse a two-year budget deficit, and support local conservation efforts from the north state to the Kern River. We launched collaborative river protection projects including the South Fork Dialogue, Voices for Living Rivers and the Headwaters Institute. With the support of a professional mutual gains facilitator, we resolved a long-standing dispute with South Fork outfitters on pricing of our volunteer rafting trips, preserving a strategic relationship and a significant source of FOR’s income. Perhaps most important, we hired a permanent Executive Director who stabilized and steered the ship of state for ten years thereafter.
New Ways to Read the River, Finding the Throughline.
Experiencing such skillful resolution of the outfitter/rafting chapter conflict inspired me to take a deep dive into learning the principles and practices of mutual gains negotiation. For eight years, I facilitated labor/management negotiations, watershed collaboratives, and environmental policy groups around the state. In 2002, I transitioned to the Campus Ombudsman at UC Santa Cruz, which fit my skill set and personal needs perfectly. After retiring in 2012, I launched RainDragon’s Workshop.
Last year our throughline carried my husband, Bob, and me to Albuquerque, New Mexico. New challenges and opportunities abound – learning high desert gardening, understanding the complexities of New Mexico’s multi-faceted cultural heritage, supporting river advocacy, and engaging with the art community. Oh, did I say…the mountains, deserts and rivers are phenomenally beautiful!