Rather than chase beavers off, it is time to invite them back.

Watershed scientists and state and federal land managers can identify the thousands of streams most suited to beavers. Simple steps can help bring them to watersheds in need — whether that means helping restore river environments to attract dispersing juvenile beavers from existing nearby populations, or reintroducing beavers to locations where they had thrived before the fur trade and habitat degradation destroyed them as well as their homes.

I think it’s kind of odd to suggest we are just telling them to “move along, we don’t need your kind around here” instead of directly stating that we are in fact KILLING them and throwing their treasures down to toilet because it would require an ounce of effort to manage their behavior.

But that’s just me.

Beavers can then set in motion protective natural processes. Their dams and canals slow the flow of streams and rivers, spreading water across the floodplain. Once slowed, the water loses its ability to carry sand, silt and gravel, so these materials accumulate. The wet ground and regular sediment deposits make fertile conditions for vegetation that has evolved with beavers and is more productive when regularly chewed. All of this builds and maintains wetlands.

This nature-based restoration can in turn help stave off the worst effects of climate change that are warming streams, deepening droughts and fueling wildfires. These threats harm native fish and wildlife in our communities while draining billions of dollars from our economies.

Riverine wetlands rebuilt by beavers can counteract rising temperatures, nourishing vegetation that stores carbon and benefiting sensitive species including steelhead trout. Spreading water across the floodplain creates a network of firebreaks — gaps in combustible vegetation that can stop or slow wildfires. And beaver wetlands help combat drought because their dams raise water levels so the ground stores water like a sponge, percolating out in drier seasons, which keeps streams flowing instead of going dry.

As part of a team of state, federal and university researchers, we tested the capacity of beavers along an eastern Oregon creek so eroded from years of poor management that the water ran many feet below the surrounding terrain. The erosion led to dried-out floodplains, dead stream-side vegetation and a self-sustaining cycle of drying and degradation in the channel.

Well now this is definitely going to piss off the folks in San Diego that are sure beavers aren’t native and destructive to the endangered magic arroyo toad. I hope they have an extra cup of coffee this morning.

Fixing the creek would require slowing that water down, piling it up to reconnect the channel to its floodplain. This would be a big ask for beavers on their own, so we helped. We hand-built structures to mimic beaver dams to begin slowing and spreading the flow.

This work attracted the first beavers from other environments. In just a few years, more beavers found the spot and assumed the maintenance. Building on our initial efforts, they transformed logs, mud and sticks into structures that spanned the valley and spread the water across many small branching channels, canals and ponds. Willows and other stream-side vegetation emerged. Water soaked the ground in storage that gradually filtered back out, offsetting dry spells.

Stream-side communities might worry that letting a wild dam builder loose might spur flooding that could damage property. But beavers are creatures of habit, meaning we can predict which locations have the lowest potential for human conflicts and greatest potential for environmental benefits. We can entice beavers to remote areas such as millions of acres of national forest and other federal and state lands. And we have tools to prevent beavers’ work from damaging property, such as devices that keep beaver ponds at safe levels, fencing or paint to protect trees and screening to ensure drainage systems are not plugged.

The work is also relatively cheap. The main costs of beaver-based stream restoration involve helping them get a foothold by starting restoration work ourselves and, where necessary, transporting beavers to the right natural site. This approach typically costs thousands of dollars per mile, not the millions per mile we often spend on infrastructure   solutions.

Well that will turn some heads. BDAs are like crack or meth to these folks. Your first hits free. They aren’t excited yet about the actual B’S but that will come. We hope.

This solution also requires not destroying our population of environmental heroes. Last year alone, approximately 25,000 beavers were killed by wildlife control officers in response to people’s complaints and requests to protect their property. Imagine the value to communities of promoting nonlethal options instead, such as adapting the environment for coexistence with beavers or, when that’s not an option, moving them to less conflict-prone locations.

The job is enormous, but so is the capacity of beavers to help. Modest funding for beaver restoration was added to California’s budget this year. Groups that protect wildlife, fisheries and wetlands should join forces across the West to make beavers integral to a coordinated climate change response.

That’s a weird statistic to share. Why not focus on beaver deaths in California specifically? We know how many permission slips were handed to kill beavers in the golden state. Why not report that number maybe even specifying how many in the bottom half of California?

Still. Still WONDERFUL to have an OpEd in the LA Times and wonderful to think of all the eyes it will be read by. At a certain point this is going to make sense to people. And we’re going to get to stop clearing the path with a machete through the back country.

Remember July 25th.

Oh and what a great day to share this video that Cheryl caught of our new beaver friends in Pleasant Hill. Which is suddenly looking a whole lot more pleasant to me.