My Summer as a Writer in Residence at Rattlesnake Creek Dam

By Cassie Sevigny

A glint of white, a shine of running water ahead. The water is seeping in from the corner of the drained reservoir, opposite the headgates, already braiding through the ditches left by the trucks. The new trickle of stream already washes away the drying, damp, and cracking clay below my feet, the clear water flaunting the muted rainbow of glacial stones. These revealed rivulets of rainbow rocks are their own kind of slow, mini excavation alongside the deconstruction of the dam.

This is a note I wrote while exploring the drained Rattlesnake Creek reservoir as an artist in residence for Trout Unlimited. I was finishing my Master’s in Economics at University of Montana (UM) when I found Open AIR Montana’s artist residency program. Eager to work on a creative project after plunging into statistical econometric analysis, I applied. My excitement heightened upon seeing Rattlesnake Creek dam as a site option because of my prior experience in the creek with the Watershed Education Network (WEN) as a college student. I have participated in citizen science with WEN’s Stream Team and taught local students about river science on WEN field trips. The citizen-led efforts and success of initiating the defunct dam's removal inspired me on a civic level. I was not part of the initial process to approve the removal of the dam, so this was my chance to be involved! 

Since so much of my writing depends on what I see and feel, I did not know exactly where my writing would take me with this project. I wanted to express the importance of this body of water to Missoulians and beyond, the science behind the effects of dams on river ecology, the politics and history of its installation, abandonment, and removal, and the sheer subjective experience of this human-environment interaction. During the residency I spent many days hiking up to the dam overlook, or to the site itself when the construction workers had the day off. I wandered around, connecting pieces of historical and ecological information with aspects of the site itself.

To inform myself, I attended public talks, tours, and virtual lectures by Rob Roberts and Ladd Knotek. I read about bull trout and the importance of the Rattlesnake Creek to local native societies. I helped dig out items from a garbage-and-dirt heap when a local historian came to inspect its trash and treasure. I took pictures of the plants I found along the creek and learned about them with the iNaturalist app. I reviewed the plan for the dam’s deconstruction, and the reconstruction of a semblance of what the original creek might’ve looked like. And of course I ran into WEN staff members along the trail examining the dam removal’s progress.

WEN gave me experience in applied science outdoors with a local stream that connected me to my Montana environment in the first place. Trout Unlimited and Open AIR Montana gave me just the opportunity I needed and desired to explore creative writing and my relationship with an ecosystem that has a soft spot in my heart. 

Cassie's First Bear!

 By Cassie Sevigny

One Tuesday I dropped in on Level 2 Stream Team. I had to go to the bridge crossing Rattlesnake Creek but not cross it myself. Instead I stayed left, barely found the narrow overgrown trail along the bank, and followed it upstream. “Don’t forget to make noise to alert bears since you’re walking alone,” Deb had warned me. Aissa found me before I’d gotten far and showed me to the site.

I stood on mossy rocks and watched Aissa, Stephie, Reyna, and Joe wrangling insect samples from a special collecting net into a jar. It was a process that required all four sets of hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark figure leaning over a fallen branch in the woods across the stream. Weird spot for someone to be wandering, I briefly thought, but people are weird. A few minutes later I saw the black shape stretch up, and up, and up into a tree. It was no person. I couldn’t even form words in my excitement and surprise. I just pointed. “A bear!” Aissa told everyone. “It’s eating berries from the mountain ash.” 

The bear lounged for a while, ignoring us. Or perhaps not noticing us, for ten minutes later it lumbered toward the creek and suddenly stopped. There were people in the creek! I wondered if it had intended to come down for a drink or a splash. Likely bears do not usually encounter people in their creek so far upstream, away from main trail access. The bear paused for a bit, contemplating what to do, and eventually retreated into the woods. I wondered if it was going to find another spot.

Deb arrived later with Joe Glassy, WEN board member, who she ran into on the trail. I find this a common occurrence with Deb, who seems to know everyone. Joe had brought his dog Lucy and his camera. How unfortunate he had missed the chance to photograph the bear! But as we talked and the team returned to collecting the fatal insect sample, the bear re-emerged from the trees a ways upstream! It lay down at the edge of the water. If not for the slight movement, it could’ve been mistake for a large black boulder among the rocks. 

I’ve lived in Missoula six years now and seen plenty of deer, birds, insects and squirrels. I know bears frequent the Rattlesnake, and I’ve even been at Greenough during reports of bears in the creek. But this was the first one I’ve seen. I felt part elation and part realization that I couldn’t remember how you were supposed to respond to a bear’s presence. Stream Team had bear spray of course, and we didn’t need to use it. But the fact that I was in the bear’s territory and came face to face with one reminded me how wild the land is, and how easily we can ignore that when we build houses and ranches and roads and trails and bring our urban selves so close to the edge of a wilderness.

Resplendent Stream Team

By Cassie Sevigny

Returning to WEN as a staff member has felt a bit like a homecoming. Stream Team days pull me out of my apartment isolation and into the woods, resplendent with yellow and red leaves and striped with tree trunks among the dry blond underbrush. I see Rattlesnake creek, which is not cutting through the forest but embedded as part of it, and I realize sometimes we forget about things that make us happy.

The cool fall weather indicates Stream Team season is ending, so I’ve been lucky to go out several times in the past few weeks. One trip brought me to a location between Greenough and the dam site that I had not been to before. A family was leaving the area around the tilted narrow stone table and bench when we arrived. Upon the table we spread out our gear around a little fall fairy house someone had made. Red berries perched in the shelves of pinecones, and leaves and pine needles stuck out like flags from a mossy wood-and-bark house. That day ended with wine and a light plum cake made with Deb’s recipe and Aissa’s plums. The immediate feeling of being among family and working to a common goal makes me happy.

I also helped with a special Stream Team day with University of Montana’s Water Policy class, taught by Ada Montague, this time at a familiar site by the Duncan trailhead bridge. Clouds clung thickly to the sky and the thin conifers swung about in the wind. It was hard to find insects in our tubs with all the leaves and other fall debris. They needed someone “solid on bugs” to teach the volunteers what to look for and how to identify the insects we were counting. I wasn’t sure how much I would remember but trusted in my ability to recognize and relearn. Turns out even after a few years’ absence from leading any stations, I still know my aquatic insects! Pointing out the tiny wiggling ones reminded me of when I was a new volunteer, delightedly soaking up every bit of Al’s professional expertise that I could. 

Working with WEN has taught me to take the lead with whatever they throw at me. I’ve also been reminded that I have plenty of skills and knowledge from years of working with WEN. That expertise makes me comfortable teaching and leading stations, even if I’m initially hesitant, so that others can learn the excitement of their watersheds too.