I knew about the story of Wishpoosh creating the cascades along the pacific, but I only just heard about Kluscap and the giant beaver known as K’chi-Quabeet. The tale comes from the Wabanaki people in the area of Maine and Vermont and beyond. The Penebscot tribe is part of them and that is where Skip Lisle began his work with the beaver and developed the famed beaver deceiver. So you can imagine how revered he was among the people.
(Apparently K’chi-Quabeet had no idea the paleontologists years later would learn he couldn’t build dams. fell trees OR slap water with his tail. Silly Rodent.)
The only time I’m really impressed by a BDA article is when the author makes it clear that the idea is that building these tiny dams with volunteer labor is only going to work if it convinces furry little flat-tailed labor to take over the job.
It is thought there are fewer than half the beavers in the Bighorn National Forest now compared to about 15 years ago, and to make up for their work, wildlife officials have built more than 150 artificial dams. It’s not clear why the beaver population is declining.
It is thought there could be fewer than half the beavers in the Bighorn National Forest now compared to about 15 years ago, and to make up for their work, wildlife officials have built more than 150 artificial dams, or “beaver dam analogs.”
The Wyoming Game and Fish Department and the U.S. Forest Service have also worked together to reintroduce beavers to the area.
It’s not quite clear why the beaver population has been declining.
Gee I wonder why. Maybe you could stop trapping and shooting them and give them a chance to do their jobs?
The recent decline in the beaver population is troubling, Cundy said.
“The beaver population in the Bighorns has experienced a decline over the past several years,” he said. “There is not a numerical population objective for beavers in the area, but Game and Fish is concerned about the decline and is working with the Bighorn National Forest and other partners to identify causes of the decline, conduct habitat improvement projects and increase the population where possible.”
Officials haven’t pinpointed a cause for the decline, but they have some ideas.
One might be the encroachment of conifers (such as pine trees) into riparian areas – the vegetation-rich habitats along creeks and streams.
“Increased conifers in an area can compete for sunlight, water and nutrients with more desirable riparian vegetation such as willows and aspens,” Cundy said.
Other factors might include long-term drought and grazing and browsing by livestock and wildlife affecting willow and aspen growth, he said.
Sure, It;s the trees and the drought. That’s what’s killing off your beaver population.
If there’s one thing I have no patience for its places that allow beavers to be killed and then try and move other beavers that might have been killed onto the landscape to try and make them do their job. Stop with the musical beavers already.
Deal with the ones you have and allow them to make the changes that can keep your landscape habitable.
The reason I love this image is because it represents perfectly the rakishly unjust way in which these two species are regarded. The otter image is cute and coquettish with huge long eyelashes to invite you closer while it devours its tasty morsel.
The Beaver with its multiple rows if teeth is truly terrifying and could not be more ugly and unattractive. A giant tooth vagina lurking on the landscape.
If you had a big sister that everyone loved and thought was perfect and you were always treated like you were invisible or a second class citizen even though you earned a scholarship to Stanford and silver medal at the Olympics you can probably guess how beavers feel about otters.
Now beavers are already tasked with preventing droughts, halting wildfires, slowing floods and cleaning the earths liquid toxins, but now they’re apparently being signed up for another job.
Together, beavers and otters can create a more resilient, biodiverse river system
Did you know that river otters (Lontra canadensis) were once common in New Mexico, thriving in waterways across the state? In this era of otter abundance, otters played a key role in the Land of Enchantment as apex aquatic predators that helped stabilize food webs.
By feeding on overabundant species like crayfish and other non-native fish, otters can help reduce competitive pressure on native species like the Gila chub and spikedace. Their presence is also a signal of ecological health: otters need clean water and healthy fish populations to thrive.
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In a tragic story all too familiar, overtrapping combined with man-made habitat modifications and degradation led to the sharp decline of the native otter population. With New Mexico’s last confirmed river otter sighting in the Gila River in 1953, these charismatic aquatic creatures vanished from the state’s waterways for more than 50 years – lost to the trapping trade as well as habitat modification and degradation.
Together they can make the river more resilient? Um. Okay. I will concede that otters help rivers by eating and pooping moving the nutrients around the ecosystem. I’m nothing if not reasonable. But no one is saying that;s anything like what beavers do, right?
When it comes to restoring rivers, river otters have a powerful ally: beavers.
In New Mexico, beavers are certainly having a moment. State leaders and wildlife advocates are becoming more and more aware of the benefits beavers bring to the environment – so much so that the New Mexico legislature invested $1.5 million in beaver restoration over the next three years. WildEarth Guardians and the New Mexico Beaver Project are hard at work to ensure that the investment succeeds in expanding beaver populations into areas where they will do the most good.
Beavers are ecosystem engineers that reshape riparian zones by building dams, which create deep pools and expand wetlands. Beaver ponds offer rich foraging habitat for otters, and otters will sometimes even move into abandoned beaver lodges, which offer them refuge from predators.
Okay, we’re in agreement so far. This sentence is the one that really got my attention:
In turn, otters help maintain balance in beaver-created habitats by controlling fish and invertebrate populations.
The bottom line is that beavers can make New Mexico a more lush, resilient, hospitable, and productive place for people and wildlife.
In turn? In turn? That makes it sound like otters are helping beavers. Which drives me completely insane. Otters are cute. they are way more popular than beavers. Otter appetites may get rid of certain kinds of fish or crayfish. But that doesn’t help beavers one bit.
Beavers don’t care what kinds of fish their ponds are full of.
Beaver populations across the country are rebounding thanks to increased protections and the decline of fur trapping, and the Gila is no exception. According to Guardians’ Greater Gila New Mexico Advocate, Leia Barnett, “I’d say there have been reports of increased beaver activity along key waterways in the Gila region, but the landscape could host a lot more. And especially in these times of increased fire activity and ongoing drought, having larger beaver-created wetlands provides really important refugia for species when wildfires burn.”
Together, beavers and otters can create a more resilient, biodiverse river system, one that better withstands drought, stores carbon, filters pollutants, and slows the flow of water across the landscape.
The benefits would extend to the whole of the Gila Wilderness: healthier floodplains, more water for wildlife and people, and stronger resistance to the impacts of climate change.
Ohhh puleeze.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not against otter in the Gila. And I’m curious at suggestion that they can be relocated. But saying that otters AND beavers can improve rivers is like saying that firefighters AND paperboys can save neighborhoods.
One of them is doing all the heavy lifting and the other one is cute.
It’s getting to be that wonderful time of year when donations to our silent auction start showing up in the mailbox in the afternoon. This was especially delightful and I knew you’d want to see it.
I approached Cait Irwin of IrwinArtworks and she was so moved by our story that she created this watercolor especially for us. She will sell copies as cards on her site but the original will be for sale at our silent auction and no where else in the world.
Thank you so much Cait. I believe you have just created a bluegrass bidding war at the beaver festival.
Years ago, in eager younger days when almost all beaver news was bad. there were so many miserable reports about beavers that I was exhausted responding to them. I thought it might be more effective for a different voice to answer these articles instead of that tree-hugging white lady from California. I needed more cred. I dreamed up the character of a ruddy ex-trapper who had learned first hand why beavers matter. I even made up a name for him.
Buck Lanyard.
Buck was much more believable than Heidi, let me tell you. He explained about flow devices. Salmon. And drought. But he was never as good as this guy.
If you’ve walked along Tahoe’s various Creeks or fished the Truckee River, you’ve probably noticed how our waterways shift with the seasons—and maybe even how they’ve changed over the years. For me, these streams have always been more than just scenery. I grew up fishing them, studying them, and learning how their rhythms shape the landscape and everything that lives within it. That’s why I’ve become especially interested in one of the region’s not so famous natural allies: the North American beaver.
I’m paying attention. Aren’t you?
In the 1980s, beavers were nearly wiped out from the Tahoe Basin and the greater Truckee River Basin. At the time, they were seen mainly as a problem—causing flooding, damaging infrastructure, and blocking culverts. But as I’ve spent more time out in the field and more time with a fly rod in hand, I’ve come to realize how much we’ve lost by pushing them out.
As part of a field-based research project I studied the ecological impact of beavers in the Truckee Basin. I collected data on stream flow, water depth, temperature, vegetation, and species presence at sites with and without active beaver ponds. Drawing from methods used by researchers, I wanted to see what the data could tell us—and what it couldn’t. What I found reinforced what I’d already witnessed while fishing and exploring: beavers make ecosystems better
Oh I’m loving this letter. Who is this man? I’m thinking we need to meet and be friends.
Their dams slow the flow of water, trap sediment, and create deep pools that act as critical habitat for trout, especially in the summer when stream temperatures rise. These pools offer cooler, oxygen-rich refuge and abundant insect life—exactly the kind of environment wild trout need to thrive. I’ve seen firsthand how fish stack up in beaver ponds during the hottest months, finding shelter where otherwise the water would be too shallow or warm.
But it’s not just fish that benefit. Waterfowl like widgeon and mergansers often nest near beaver ponds, where thick vegetation and still water offer both food and protection. And beyond supporting wildlife, beavers also build natural firebreaks. By raising the water table and saturating nearby soils, they create wet zones that are far more resistant to wildfire, an ecosystem service that couldn’t be more timely in a region like ours.
This letter! It’s the best! I’m week in the knees and feel like I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke. Is it hot in here?
What started as a fun side project quickly became something more personal. As an angler, a conservationist, and someone who’s spent most of his life in the Sierra, I came to see beavers not as pests but as partners—quiet, persistent builders who work for free and never ask for anything in return. They don’t burn fossil fuels, they don’t need concrete or engineering plans, and yet they outperform many of our most expensive restoration projects.
Of course, beaver restoration needs to be thoughtful. Infrastructure and private property must be protected. But there are modern tools—pond levelers, culvert protectors, and tree guards—that make coexistence not only possible, but practical. And perhaps most importantly, it’s a conversation the entire community should be part of. This isn’t just about one species—it’s about how we choose to live with nature, not against it.
Christopher Paganelli (Truckee)
Oh my goodness. I think that’s the very best letter I’ve ever read. And from TRUCKEE no less which is a pretty trap-happy region.
It is thought there are fewer than half the beavers in the Bighorn National Forest now compared to about 15 years ago, and to make up for their work, wildlife officials have built more than 150 artificial dams. It’s not clear why the beaver population is declining. 
