woodriver land trust

Protecting the heart of the valley...now

and for the future.

W i n n i n g W r i t i n g s & P h o t o g r a P h s o f t h e 6th Annual Heart of the Valley Contest

p r e s e n t s

prizes generously donated by:

photography Judges:Joshua Wellstod hamachekClaudia Fiaschetti

Writing Judges:dana dugansabina dana plasseKaren bossick

sponsored by:

reCeption Volunteers:linda lynchJennifer MontgomeryCarrie schinkKatie Van heesgail Wengerrene Whitenancy Winton

Winning photography Will be on display at the FolloWing loCations: February 12 - 19blagojce gallery in Walnut avenue Mall, Ketchum

February 20 - March 1zaney’s river street Coffee house on river street, hailey

March 1 - 8penelope’s in the galleria building atrium, Ketchum

March 8 - 15bank of america lobby, Main street, Ketchum

don’t Miss: reading by Writing WinnersFeb 21, 4 - 6pm at iconoclast books Ketchum on sun Valley rd.

Visit us online W W W. W o o d r i V e r l a n d t r u s t. o r g and see what we have planned!

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6th Annual Heart of the Valley Contest ta b l e o F C o n t e n t s

1st place adult photography, Reels on the Big Wood

by timur & Justine beriker ..................................................front cover

1st place adult Writing, One More River to Cross by robin sias ...........2

2nd place adult photography, Little Fish byterry afdem .....................3

2nd place adult Writing, Seasons on Silver Creek by rose rumball-petre ................................................................................ 4

3rd place adult photography, Recharge by bass sears .........................5

3rd place adult Writing, An Aqueous Canticle by lee brown ........ 6 - 7

staff Favorite adult Writing, Nature Nurture by Michael sewell ..........8

staff Favorite adult photography, Feet by bass sears ..........................9

1st place student Writing, A Storm of My Wildest Wishes by lisa laurel hart ............................................................................10

1st place student photography, Caught by a Fly by Jon atkinson.......11

2nd place student Writing, My Daily Shower by eric Williamson .......12

2nd place student photography, Out by Beautiful Eagle Creek by ella guy .........................................................................................13

3rd place student Writing, The River Is My Soul by Jim Williams ........14

3rd place student photography, Big Wood River by oliver guy .........15

staff Favorite student Writing, Ice on the Water by brooke l. lawrence .....................................................................16

l e t t e r F r o M t h e e x e C u t i V e d i r e C t o r , s C o t t b o e t t g e r

dear Friends of Wood river land trust,

We are pleased to present the heart of the Valley contest again this year. now in its 6th year, the contest attracts entries that just keep getting bet-ter and better and the quality of this year’s col-lection is unmatched. i want to thank all of our sponsors, prize donors, and participants.

our theme this year was water: how the waters of our valley inspire and nurture you—whether you are on the water or in it, viewing it from a distance or just as far as the end of your

fishing rod. all of the contestants creatively cap-tured their sentiments through words and images.

as the land trust enters its 16th year of land protection, we also continue to be inspired by the waters of the big Wood river and its tributaries. We have restored streambanks, wetlands, and riparian areas along the river, and now have two new major restoration projects underway. the first is at hulen Meadows, north of Ketchum; the other is at lions park and the draper Wood river preserve in hailey and will include a boardwalk and wetland overlook. you can “buy” an inch, foot or yard of the boardwalk to help us complete this great project and leave your mark. For more information or to make a donation to this or other land trust projects, please visit our website.

We look forward to seeing you again next year!

scott boettger

staff Favorite student photography, Indian Creek Rainbow by nate thomas ................................................................................17

Wood river land trust Current project spotlight: draper Wood river preserve and Croy Creek Wetland boardwalk .................................18

Wood river land trust Current project spotlight: hulen Meadows Floodplain Management project ........................................................19

Wood river land trust: our mission, board and staff ......................20

other photography entries ...............................................................21

1st place adult photography, Reels on the Big Wood (pictured on cover)

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s :My husband, timur beriker, has no idea that i am entering his amateur pho-tography in this contest. you see, my husband, like most in this valley, works very hard to support his family. Whenever he can carve out a moment for himself and his loved ones, he heads to the river or a nearby lake to: camp, fish, laugh, swim, admire, boat, relax, listen, see. the doe grazing at redfish lake around the time that we started to cook dinner, the lonely canoes re-tired on the beach at sundown on stanley lake and the rods and reels that give my husband so much pleasure as he catches those beautiful trout – these are memories of why life is good here in the Wood river Valley. reminders of why he left the crowded city 13 years ago to raise his three children in the middle of what really counts in life. the waters in this valley inspire him and he inspires me.

thank you, Justine beriker

It wasn’t until the sun bounced off the Big Wood River directly into the scratched plane window that I considered, even for a moment, that things might, just might be okay.

We had been traveling for seven hours, my three young children and me. The trip began in Connecticut well before dawn, a trip we had made many times before. But today was different. Today our tickets were one-way; the start of a journey that everyone called a fresh start, whatever that was, from a divorce that had torn us asunder.

Suddenly, there it was. Curving through the Bellevue farmland, swollen in late June run-off, glinting in the midday sun. I could feel the pull of the current against my legs. I smelled the slightly mineral river smell. I breathed my first breath of the trip. We were home.

I first set a felt-soled boot in that river in 1983. Most people come to Sun Valley to ski. My family came here to fish. At 13, I’d never been on a ski lift, but I had been plodding around rivers, rod in hand, for years. My father used to only half-kiddingly advise me, “You’ll need to know how to fish so you can go with your husband.” I do, and I did, and I actually taught him to fly-fish. But so much for that.

The last stop on a sweep of western trout rivers, Sun Valley’s legend-ary waters drew us in and kept us coming back. I, a recalcitrant teen, initially spent as much time sitting on the banks of the river, a bikini

One More River to Cross by Robin Sias top under my waders, a book in my hand, stubbornly not fishing. But that made me love the river even more. Catching is satisfying. But wading, casting and even just sitting, staring and listening, eclipse a fish on the end of a line.

The older I got, and the more time I spent in the Valley, the louder became the call of the rivers. Trail Creek and Copper Basin. The Big Lost. Different waters, equally mesmerizing. The first time I stood waist-deep in the strong pull of the Big Lost and looked up at that mountain range, I knew that someday, I had to live here. North of town, south of town, above the reservoir and magical, mystical Sil-ver Creek. Rivers that disappear into mythical underground caves, rivers of no return.

My Ketchum kids will be river kids. They understand the stillness of the river, even though it is constantly flowing. They appreciate its meandering purpose and its sense of play as it eddies and circles back upon itself, never in a hurry. They somehow intrinsically already know the peace that first glimpse of river provides.

When I glimpsed the rhythmic waters of the river as we approached the airport, I trusted it. The rivers would cauterize the wounds. They would wash away sins and baptize new beginnings. The running wa-ter would ground us and listen to us and give us its gifts.

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2 n d p l a C e a d u l t p h o t o g r a p h y: Little Fish by Terry Afdem

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s : the pristine waters of the Wood river Valley are clear and cold, great for photographing fish. in this shot, thousands of juvenile fish form an intriguing pattern.

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I walk Silver Creek in winter—on the banks, snow hugs straw-col-ored grasses tight. Later, thin, translucent, occasionally opaque ice thickens along the edges and sometimes in the middle. A solitary northern harrier springs from an adjacent cottonwood in pursuit of a vole, as the vole frantically looks for the next entrance to its tunnel under the snow. Trout are less commonly seen under the bridge now. Occasional fly fishermen sweep their lines from below the nearby highway bridge. The days change from icy winds whip-ping around muff-wrapped ears, to bitter cold marked by warming sun, to a whirl of snowflakes lighting my path. Last week, as the day warmed, fog-generated hoarfrost fell like snow from thickened white branches. Darkness comes early and dawn slowly. Mid-day walks are a must.

I walk Silver Creek in spring, scaring two Pintails from their floating reverie. Later, a mallard guides five, no six, ducklings trailing behind her under the bridge beneath my feet. I have canoed Silver Creek in spring, staring up as twin great-horned owlets looked down from their nest tree on the bank. In this season of bright grass, the north-ern harrier nests unseen, in unplowed fields nearby. Thin-leaved willow green unfurls as the tree drops catkins, while tiny warblers with yellow flecks perch and flutter among the branches, like leaves. I follow a willet and his mate along the road flying from fencepost to fencepost in pursuit of the creek ahead. In the Camas Prairie a year

Seasons on Silver Creek by Rose Rumball-Petre ago, I watched as four young willets trailed their mother through the grassy dark waters and I wonder if this pair nests there too.

I walk Silver Creek on a summer afternoon, watching canoeists slid-ing through dark waters. The creek is dotted with fly fisherman perched along the edges and in the midst. I have swum Silver Creek in summer, my body feeling both the hot summer sun and the cold spring water as it was caressed, sometimes entangled by the thick grasses. On another morning, a friend marvels in the cool dawn at a willow flycatcher repeatedly capturing his prey on the wing while we stare entranced through our binoculars. As a Virginia rail, hidden in the brush, buzzes, a tiny marsh wren alights on a cattail, and a blue dragonfly soars and dips overhead. I realize the creek is alive—with insects, birds and people.

I walk Silver Creek in fall, noticing how the oxbow bend turns in-ward, even as life on the edges does the same. The season changes, marked by the disappearance of barn swallows, nesting under the bridge, that have been catching insects above the waters since early spring. A muskrat pokes his nose above the water, and then sub-merges, leaving only ripples. On another journey, a moose and her calf rise slowly from the next bend, while I, unobserving, pass by and my daughter runs up to tell me about them. Maybe my op-portunity will come another day.

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3 r d p l a C e a d u l t p h o t o g r a p h y: Recharge by Bass Sears

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s : after the boisterous summer, a quiet winter river gives itself – and its visitors – a chance to relax and recharge before the coming flush of spring.

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On the day I was born, FDR was president, Pearl Harbor peaceful, and tourists were arriving at Sun Valley’s recently opened Challenger Inn. Yes, since that day I have been awed, inspired, and nurtured by two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen. Even more importantly, it has been my good fortune to be the pupil of a patient tutor---the oceans & rivers of the world and the streams & springs of the Wood River Valley. As life is formed in the amniotic environment of mom’s reservoir, we remained touched by water in ways never fully under-stood such as the deep pleasure of a hot shower. Casting the net wider, however, suggests larger lessons about life are offered by the aqueous world if we are but receptive to this gift.

Water as Solid ~ December 1967All elements of a vintage “Warren Miller Day” are present: spectacu-lar cobalt windless sky, squeaking fresh snow, and minus five. My wife takes the single chair in front of me and begins the ascent up River Run. Half-way across the Big Wood River, the lift stops so abruptly our chairs oscillate in syncopated fashion making us ap-pear as bungee jumpers coming perilously close to the swift cur-rent. Nervously, we make idle chatter in the futile effort to combat growing numbness until, mercifully, the cable tugs again. Once on top, Kneissel Red Stars are pointed down toward the outdoor hand-warmer at Round House. Remaining in long-thongs, frozen hands are thrust into the hot air where the mixed blessing of returning circulation and pain so blurs my senses it takes a moment to realize

An Aqueous Canticle by Lee Brown the man across from me is likely the next American president. As if on cue, Robert Kennedy turns and sprints up the Round House stairs not knowing in a short time his fate will be the same as his older brother.

Water as Liquid - October 1996My hydrologic work is focused entirely on Silver Creek. Paul Todd, close pal and Conservancy Manager, and I launch the canoe at Stalk-er Bridge to begin the annual fall survey of salmonid “reds.” We alternate who stands and counts with who paddles and steers. Just above the Wilson Creek confluence, the reverie of a glorious autum-nal day is broken abruptly by a low branch which so clobbers me I take Paul and all equipment into the ice cold stream.

Water as Vapor – August 2007As a younger man, scrambling in and out of streams festooned with heavy instruments wasn’t a concern. Today, even though I won’t admit it, not only is agility an issue but I’m also losing the ability to multi-task. Nightfall is coming, and all I want to do is complete the last flow measurement. Sting and I park the aging Toyota FJ40 near an entry point to the Cove Canal that is easy but upstream of the survey site. Stinger is alert and looking intently toward Gannett Road; since his “Setterness” is always pointing I dismiss it with a shrug and enter the water. The ditch becomes more incised so by the time the site is reached, fast moving water is waist high. Ham-mering in the tape’s anchor, something causes me to look up the

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near-vertical bank where Sting’s gaze is unflinchingly westward. In a gut-wrenching flash, it’s clear what he has known all along, a storm cell is almost upon us and I have not sensed the approaching light-ening. A quick and desperate assessment reveals that even if instru-ments are abandoned the bank is too clay-slimed steep for escape. Stinger looks down at me the white around his otherwise brown eyes signaling fear; odd, I think, because while he loves gunfire he hates thunder. Peril is both obvious and close; surrounded by my life’s work, all we can do is await the outcome.

Lessons LearnedRivers parallel life. Always in a cycle, freshet creeks are born pure in high mountains where, like children, they are vivacious, non-productive, and self-centered little “takers.” On the other end, the terminal delta is where the aged become slow and polluted, shal-low and braided, yet generous “givers” moving inexorably toward a larger destiny. In between these extremes is where things become interesting as streams morph into deep and powerful rivers whose countenance becomes productive, perhaps even dangerous. It is during this reach where the un-expected is commonplace and things can change in an instant.

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust

b o x C a r b e n d p r e s e r V e : this restored area along the river is a beautiful stopping point along the bike path and is one of the most popular fishing access points on the big Wood river.

www.woodriverlandtrust.org

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Across the street, near a beat up concrete bridge sits our dog park and a small meandering creek, a tributary to the great Big Wood. I go here to shed my teacher role and be a student for awhile. Nature and flowing water in particular has always been a mentor to me. Tonight, the lecture is about my students.

I position myself on a teetering rock that stabs my thigh with cold-ness. Back off. The shore is clear of snow, but still uncomfortable and awkward.

The water trickles, like an entryway to a grand hotel. I am reminded of the honey butter scones from Warm Springs Restaurant and won-der if they’ll come back. Mmmm…Focus.

The trickling tickles like soft, distant giggles. I’m lured to the edge.

Rocks below the surface sit quietly, frozen fish, perfectly content, not uttering a sound. Muted shades of algae-covered orange, purple, red, silver. Most rest quietly obedient, waiting for time to pass. The spring will bring a roar of excitement, muddy their view with gallons and gallons of possibility.

A whitecap catches my eye and my ear. It is bravado, speaking his mind with confidence and a touch of disrespect. Shouting droplets out, it longs for attention. Look at me. Notice me.

Nature Nurture by Michael Sewell s ta F F F a V o r i t e a d u l t W r i t i n g

I continue to walk. A small eddy with a winter leaf makes my heart ache. Round and round it goes. Getting nowhere. No chance to escape. Hopeless.

With the sun nearly gone, I turn downstream. Alpine glow hits the faraway mountain tops, years away. Here, in front of me, are a mil-lion shades of gray trying to find their hue.

My new angle offers complexity, depth, and shadows. That boister-ous boulder now looks gentle and serene. Simply trying to fit in.

The banks gently guide, like parents.

A broken chunk of earth sits ragged and torn just above the eddy. Roots stick out like drunk, fractured bones. This is what the eddy looks up to. I am relieved to see the leaf is gone.

Gingerly, I reach into the frigid, running pool and gasp. I hold a handful of dark stones closely. The algae easily slides away. The colors are surprisingly vibrant and detailed. Maroon laced with black webs. Alabaster crystal. Sandy gray with a perfect white ring. Remarkable. Inspiring. Individuals. I keep them in my pocket for awhile and hope I make a difference.

Back at the bridge, that steady trickle, like energy buzzing, mur-

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Along the shore I go, observing, trying my best to absorb. Be the student. Walk my talk. Listen.

The distant barking distracts me. A dark wool hat rushes by. Three black poodles gallop in my periphery. A cow dog pants and slurps. Focus.

murs with excitement. They’re ready to go. I skip a stone and hear it laugh. I toss the rest and they splash playfully, like a sea of gradu-ation caps in the air. I smile, imagining where they will land, where they will go. And as always, I marvel at my teacher.

s ta F F F a V o r i t e a d u l t p h o t o g r a p h y: Feet by Bass Sears

p h o t o g r a p h e rC o M M e n t s :

some days it’s best to leave the high-tech baggage behind and simply enjoy a cool, free flowing river, $5 sandals, and your own two feet.

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Pulsing with power, a mighty storm has consumed the valley. Rid-ing the micro-burst, a series of ghostly wolves howl more breaths of wind. The old gray house shakes, and I sit enjoying every moment, with an orange fire crackling and popping, and my fuzzy warm blanket wrapped around me. Curled contentedly on the couch, I watch steam rise from my cocoa cup, hoping that the power goes out. “Beep…beep…beep,” interrupts the television set. Every head in the large living room turns to read the severe storm warning, for specifically Hailey, Ketchum, and Bellevue. Then, suddenly, all local residents are plunged into the dark. Too dark to find a candle, my dad, mom and me, let the darkness consume us, with its eerie, haunt-ing creeping, chilling feeling. Now that we are left in the dark, I can easily watch for jagged cutouts of lightning. One splits the sky, curv-ing the mountain, and forking into a million tiny tree roots. Then I begin to count to see how far away the origin of the electricity is. One Mississippi, two Mississippi…and then a hungry rumble shakes the ground, two miles away. Another strike shatters the sky and five seconds crawl by, before a slow, low, growl rattles the windows. It barely finishes before another set of lightning flares flatly across the sky, followed by a quick heart beat of thunder. Then another flash traces the backs of the clouds, followed by a long drum roll of energy. Now buckets of water pour endlessly out of the clouds, halting the lightening show. Then suddenly, the storm ceases, we wait, then it comes back stronger than ever. The water comes straight down with large chunks of hail mixed in, each bit punching the ground. Now

A Storm of my Wildest Wishes by Lisa Laurel Hartwe guess it must be close to bed time, so we walk slowly up the stairs to our rooms. When we reach our beds and climb in the covers wrap themselves into a colorful cocoon around us. The rhythm of the rain and hail, rocking us to sleep, I for sure love a fierce storm. In the morning, the lights flicker back to life, and a large rainbow arcs widely across the sky. Stepping outside onto the still damp porch, there is a sound of silence as the sun wakes, and paints pastels of colors across the Wood River Valley. She pulls out a bag of silver glitter, and harmlessly sheds dew on all the items outside. She wipes the evidence that a storm was here with a quick wink of her golden eye. Examining her work, and fixing any flaws, she flares more yel-low to show that she is satisfied. Once the valley is to her liking, she resumes her task of warming the forever-changing land.

1 s t p l a C e s t u d e n t W r i t i n g

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust

see these winning entries as well as previous year’s winners at:

www.woodriverlandtrust.org

Seemore

online!

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1 s t p l a C e s t u d e n t p h o t o g r a p h y: Caught by a Fly by Jon Atkinson

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s : the waters of the valley give us the opportunity to play and enjoy the pleasure of so many outdoor activities; it is the reason so many of us love it here.

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Three thirty in the afternoon, the bell rings and I make a beeline to my car. As soon as I get home I throw my two Golden Retrievers in the back of my car and head for the Big Wood River. As soon as I park I open the tailgate and the dogs bolt for the river like the car is on fire. When my slow two legged body finally reached the river the dogs are up to their chests in the cool clear waters of the Big Wood. I select the proper stick, not too long to whack me in the knees but not too short to get lost in the current. I pick it up and they look at it like it is the biggest juiciest steak they have ever seen. I give it a gentle toss to the center of the river and they both explode, all that is left are geysers of white water and glimpses of golden fur through the turmoil. The geysers consume the stick then start moving towards me; about half way back they become distinguishable figures once again. They emerge sopping wet from the water wrestling each other for the stick. One wins the stick and brings it to me while the other returns to the river for a head start. The stick is dropped at my feet, immediately followed by a shower of river water flung higher then you could ever jump. I pick up the stick again and the process repeats itself. Twenty throws later I am ready to go but the dogs don’t show any intentions of leaving. I have to coax them to the car. Once home they lie down and rest for about two hours. What a great way to relax and unwind after a long day.

My Daily Shower by Eric Williamson

2 n d p l a C e s t u d e n t W r i t i n g

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust

d r a p e r W o o d r i V e r p r e s e r V e : the draper Wood river preserve, completed in 2007, ties together many past river and riparian projects in the heart of hailey by protecting 80 acres and 1/2 mile of big Wood river frontage.

www.woodriverlandtrust.org

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2 n d p l a C e s t u d e n t p h o t o g r a p h y: Out by Beautiful Eagle Creek by Ella Guy

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s : out eagle Creek when it was dark by a stream, a snow bank of ice formed. the ice looked like a frozen plant. the water looked dark. it was a peaceful creek, and the water was lightly drifting down towards the flowing river.

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3 r d p l a C e s t u d e n t W r i t i n g

The sun blazes brightly in the sky. Clouds drift lazily through the warm summer air. The gravel flies from under my feet as I walk down the road. Loud children play on the play ground across the street at the park. Tall trees lean gently with the breeze. They cast long, tempting shadows of cool. Behind me I hear the sounds of life. Cars driving and people shouting. Leaves rustling and children and adults laughing. All the noises of society and its problems swirling around me like a vortex of mass confusion. I reach the dirt road that leads to a gate…a gate to freedom. I pass through the gate, leaving the vortex behind. I feel nothing but relief…I’m alone now. Nothing but the calming sounds of nature surround me. Birds chirping and fluttering from branch to branch. The leaves dancing in the breeze. The crunch of dirt and leaves under my feet. But the sound I crave most, the most beautiful sound of them all. It would take an angelic choir to rival it… The sound of the RiverI close my eyes. Breathe deeply. And smile. Inner peace begins to fill me. I continue my lazy saunter down the earthy path. Listening and thinking. Trying to empty my mind. As I walk I start to lead myself towards the water. I close my eyes and inch closer to the cool running water. I open them again and look down and smile. The

The River Is My Soul by Jim Williamswater is skimming past my shoes. I feel the slight mist on my face and it refreshes more than my body…the mist cleanses my soul.. I begin to run…the River racing me to my favorite spot in the universe…The trees and shrubs begin to blur. The wind blows past my face and whizzes past my ears. I turn left and jump the log. The River still not slowing its pace. When I finally see the clearing in the distance my heart races faster. Finally I am there…my own paradise…the meaning of my sum-mer…my own little world…I come to a screeching halt and look around with smiles. I go to the water and look inside. I see my reflection. In that I see me. Not my physical things but all my rights and wrongs…I toss a stone on my reflection…and I am new.

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3 r d p l a C e s t u d e n t p h o t o g r a p h y: Big Wood River by Oliver Guy

15p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s : this winter it was surprisingly easy to get to the river because of the lack of snow. i was astounded when i saw that a whole snow bank had fallen into the river. a fox had walked across the snow bank and had caused the bank to fall. it was very misty and quiet, except for the sound of flowing water. it was getting dark and it was time to head back.

Ice on the waterSnow on the ice

Under it allThe water rushes bySometimes it’s dark

And sometimes it’s lightBut it is always going

Go, go, go, the water rushes pastStop, stop, stop, it cries as it whirls by

Begging me to stop and stareTo take the time to take a rest

From the rush of lifeBecause unlike the water

Under the iceI have a choice

To stop

Ice on the Water by Brooke L. Lawrence

s ta F F F a V o r i t e s t u d e n t W r i t i n g

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust

s h e e p b r i d g e C a n y o n p r o J e C t: sheep bridge Canyon maintains a link for wildlife between the foothills of the smoky Mountains and the surrounding sagebrush steppe landscape.

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s ta F F F a V o r i t e s t u d e n t p h o t o g r a p h y: Indian Creek Rainbow by Nate Thomas

p h o t o g r a p h e r C o M M e n t s :

our reason for choosing this photo is that the rainbow is right over the well sight for the City of hailey as well as where indian Creek flows out.

our ponds and waterways have trout, muskrats, badgers, rabbits, fox, eagles, moose, deer, bear and now we see wolves and cougars.

We feel our valley is the epitome of what most “valleyites” like about this area and we hope to keep it like this and not put in a golf course or more homes.

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Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust d r a p e r W o o d r i V e r p r e s e r V e a n d C r o y C r e e K W e t l a n d b o a r d W a l K :

in July 2008, Wood river land trust worked with the City of hailey and local partners to restore the south end of lions park at the site of hailey’s former landfill. in phase ii, we will provide public access to the site through construction of a boardwalk along the edge of the Croy Creek wetlands, con-necting to the draper Wood river preserve. the boardwalk will minimize impact on the riparian area while offering a close-up view of this artesian wetland and the birds, fish and other wildlife that call it home.

Seemore

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Draper Wood River Preserve and Croy

Creek Wetland Boardwalk

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give us an inch...help us build the boardwalk!

purchase your section of the boardwalk: • $25 for one inch

• $300 for one foot• $1000 for one yard

Conceptual design of boardwalk

$25

$100

0

$300

www.woodriverlandtrust.org

all donors will be listed on a plaque onsite, a great way to honor a friend or loved one.

h e l p u s C o M p l e t e o u r C u r r e n t p r o J e C t s !18

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust h u l e n M e a d o W s F l o o d p l a i n M a n a g e M e n t p r o J e C t:

Wood river land trust is working with the City of Ketchum and the blM to create a recreation and public purpose (rpp) agreement that will allow the City of Ketchum and Wood river land trust to share management of 217 acres near hulen Meadows.

this partnership will give the City of Ketchum a permanent lease on the land, create a recreational asset for the com-munity, and improve the health of the floodplain and asso-ciated fish and wildlife habitat along this stretch of the big Wood river.

We have a matching grant of $50,000 that will be added to our fundraising goal of $25,000. please help us dou-ble our efforts today!

please call us to learn more about how you can help or visit our website:

woodriv

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moreonline!

www.woodriverlandtrust.org

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Hulen MeadowsFloodplain Management

Project

Big Wood River

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ed Cutter, presidentJack Kueneman, Vice presidentJoan swift, treasurerrobin garwood, secretarydavid anderson John FlatteryJohn FrenchClark gerhardt trent Jonesheather Kingliz MitchellWolf riehleJohn Fell stevensonMegan stevensonsteve strandberg

barbara thrasherdoris tunney

a d V i s o r y C o M M i t t e epeter beckerranney draperrebekah helzeldave parrishlarry schoenJohn seillertom swift bruce tidwellliz Warrick

W r l t s ta F Fscott boettger, executive directorMelanie dahl, executive assistantKathryn goldman, senior project Coordinatordiane Kahm, development assistantrobyn Watson, director of developmentKeri york, stewardship Coordinatorsam phillips, Conservation project and outreach assistant

Wood river land trust119 east bullion street, hailey, idaho 83333208.788.3947 (telephone) 208.788.5991 (fax)info@woodriverlandtrust.org tax id# 82-0474191

Protecting the Heart of the Valley Now and for the Future

wood river land trust

o u r M i s s i o nWood river land trust protects and restores land, water, and wildlife habitat in the Wood river Valley

and its surrounding areas. We work cooperatively with private landowners and local communities to ensure these areas are protected now and for future generations.

b o a r d o F d i r e C t o r s

Visit us online W W W. W o o d r i V e r l a n d t r u s t. o r g and see other photo entries!

Trail Creek Moose Ponds by dave harrison

o t h e r a d u l t p h o t o g r a p h y e n t r i e s :

top: Drinking Ripples by Jon atkinson

above: Riverwalk Ice And Rocks by Michelle Castle

top: Icy Branch by Courtney Wangberg

above: Silver Creek...A Crown Jewel by Jennifer Montgomery