Great Redwood Trail Proposal Unearths Painful History for Indigenous Tribes

Standing at the banks of the North Fork Eel River in a remote section of Mendocino County, Michelle Merrifield dipped her feet into the cool, clear water. It may have been the first time an Indigenous person accessed this section of the river in over 150 years. This particular stretch of water has long been held privately by ranchers until it passed into the hands of The Wildlands Conservancy, a conservation group, in 2019.

Theresa’s ancestors called this river Xa-Cho. “That river is the blood pumping through Mother Earth to give it life,” she said. “And that’s in our DNA, that river. We are river people and salmon people. And that’s what we used to survive for generations.”

Now, the state of California is laying the groundwork to build a 307-mile hiking trail that would run alongside this river. The Great Redwood Trail (GRT) would begin in Marin County and continue north through Sonoma, Mendocino, and Trinity counties, concluding in northern Humboldt County. It would follow the tracks of the now-defunct Northwestern Pacific Railroad, and if completed, it would become the longest rail trail in the nation. But the creation of the trail is unearthing painful memories for local Indigenous tribes who once called this land home.

Since time immemorial, Indigenous tribes like the Wailaki, Lassik, Nongatl, and Sinkyone (collectively known as The Eel River Athapaskans) lived in hundreds of villages scattered along the banks of the Xa-Cho and its many tributaries. They cultivated thriving populations of salmon, steelhead, and Pacific lamprey. They also built dugout canoes from redwood trees, using them to travel up and down the river for commerce and ceremony.

During the 1850s, these tribes were forcibly displaced by white colonizers and state militias, who massacred Indigenous people and razed villages along the Xa-Cho, which they re-named the Eel River (mistaking local lampreys for eels). This violence was funded and supported by the state and federal governments.

Colonizers engaged in gold mining and cattle ranching, then timber logging, which became the dominant economic engine of the region by the late 1800s.

To capitalize off of an increasingly productive lumber trade, a railroad was carved into the rugged landscape starting in 1905. The Northwestern Pacific traversed a wide variety of terrain, from rolling hills and plains to redwood forests to rocky northern coasts. However, the most difficult-to-build section of the railroad was a 75-mile stretch known as the Eel River Canyon. This steep-walled area is geologically unstable and prone to massive landslides and washouts. Despite the difficulty of the terrain, the railroad persevered, completing construction in 1915.

Ironically, the “golden spike ceremony” planned to celebrate the railroad’s completion was delayed by a landslide. And it wouldn’t be the last time natural forces disrupted this rail line.

“At many times, it was the most expensive line in the entire nation to maintain, just because of all the landslides,” explained Alicia Haman, executive director of the non-profit Friends of the Eel River. “There were a lot of fatal incidents, with rail cars ending up in the river, and so it just became a huge burden.”

Today, kayakers often navigate from the headwaters in Mendocino National Forest to the river’s end in Humboldt Bay. Along the way, they have to dodge twisted rail lines, collapsed culverts, and entire train cars submerged in the water.

But it’s not just boaters who are impacted by these hazards. According to Haman, this industrial waste is wreaking havoc on the environment, leaching toxic chemicals into the water and impacting fish habitat.

“There are lots and lots of small tributaries to the main stem that have been blocked off. The fish can’t get up there to access the habitat that exists,” she said.

For these reasons, Haman’s organization supports the idea of building the Great Redwood Trail. That’s because the Great Redwood Trail Agency (GRTA), the government agency responsible for building the trail, would also be mandated to clean up the river.

“Absent the trail project, much of this [debris] would never be cleaned up, and it would just stay here,” Haman said.

The GRTA would also perform fish habitat remediation, which could increase salmon and steelhead trout populations, a priority for environmentalists, who have a long legacy in the region fighting to protect native fish, redwood trees, and other vulnerable natural resources.

Local Indigenous tribes have been at the center of many battles – past and present – to protect natural resources. And while cleaning up the Xa-Cho is a priority for the tribes with ancestral ties to the river, a serious debate is unfolding over whether a hiking trail is the best way to accomplish that goal.

“The tribal people are no longer in that area, or haven’t been in over 100 years, because we were herded like cattle out of that area for landowners, loggers, and miners,” said Michelle Merrifield, a Wailacki descendent and member of the Round Valley Indian Tribes.

Michelle is leading a coalition of Native people to stop the Great Redwood Trail from being built. At the core of their argument is frustration over not having access to their ancestral lands for over 100 years.

Today, over 50% of the Xa-Cho or Eel River is privately owned, according to Friends of the Eel River. In the more remote Eel River Canyon, there are few sections of riverfront that are accessible to the public.

Throughout the Eel River watershed, there are hundreds of former Indigenous villages, burial grounds, and ceremonial sites. Many of them are located along the old Northwestern Pacific railroad tracks that have since become the GRT right-of-way.

After the demise of the Northwestern Pacific, the land was acquired by the state, which at one point tried to maintain the railroad tracks but failed to do so. The idea of a rail trail gained momentum, and in 2022, the state began a process known as railbanking, by which railroad tracks and other key infrastructure were preserved for future use, but alternative uses – like a hiking trail – would be allowed in the interim.

In other words, if the GRT were to be built, there is no guarantee it would remain a trail forever because the land could revert back to railroad use in the future. However, public officials said this is highly unlikely due to the cost and risk associated with maintaining the Northwestern Pacific line.

If built, the Great Redwood Trail would open up vast sections of the Xa-Cho or Eel River to the public for the first time. Indigenous cultural sites along the path could also be exposed to foot traffic. The GRTA said it will protect these sites with proper signage and interpretative sites, but tribal members said this does not go far enough to ensure that sensitive Native areas are protected from destruction and looting.

GRT proponents imagine hikers, horseback riders, bicyclists, and others enjoying this land for the first time.

But for the Indigenous people who were forcibly displaced from their ancestral land after years of violent colonialism, prioritizing public access over tribal access resurfaces old wounds.

“There’s people that are feeling threatened by being plowed over by this force that’s plowed over us in the past,” said Perry Lincoln, Wailacki descendant and leader of the Kinesté Coalition, a Native community group. “Now, it’s kind of a different situation, but in one sense, it’s the same situation. The Great Redwood Trail… it’s not a good idea.”

Speaking at a local community meeting where tribal members came together with property owners and government officials, Lincoln told the story of his grandfather, a Native leader named Lassik, who led a fierce resistance to colonial encroachment. Lassik was eventually killed by colonizers in the same area where the meeting was being held, a place the colonizers named Fort Seward.

Indigenous people have found common ground with white property owners, who are also wary of the impact the public trail will have on lands they have long controlled and kept private.

Community meetings organized around the Great Redwood Trail are facilitating some of the first face-to-face conversations between Native people and white landowners in decades.

Peggy Satterly is a local property owner whose parents bought a ranch along the Eel River over 80 years ago. She was visibly moved after hearing Perry Lincoln speak about the violent history of Fort Seward.

“I never thought of owning the land as pushing you off the land,” Satterly said. I’m bitter and protective of this land. As I know that you guys are, too. And I’ll do anything to help you to protect your sites and your places. The river is your river. It’s not my river.”

Landowners said they are concerned about fire danger and littering, while Indigenous people emphasize the risk to important cultural areas that contain grave sites and priceless artifacts.

“We want people to work together,” Lincoln continued. “We don’t want there to be some division between native and non-native. Reviving our culture means land access. It means working with landowners that have a longstanding interest in the land.”

For its part, the GRTA said it is committed to speaking and working with Native tribes throughout the process of developing the trail.

In an email, executive director of the GRTA Elaine Hogan wrote, “Over the past 2+ years, we have been in contact with about 40 California Native American Tribes and tribal organizations (which includes ‘unrecognized’ tribes). That doesn’t just mean sending a letter or email, but following up via phone and in-person visits, presentations at tribal council meetings, and meetings with tribal government staff.”

Michelle Merrifield, a Round Valley tribal member who is leading the opposition to the trail, disputes this.

“We’ve written some letters to the Great Redwood Trail back in November and December [2023], and we didn’t get any answers back,” she said. “We went to some meetings that the GRTA had in Ukiah and Eureka and were given three minutes to voice our opinion and comments on the trail. And to me, that’s not sufficient consultation with the public.”

While the Xa-Cho or Eel River Canyon is the most contentious segment of the trail, other segments have already been built or are presently under construction. Much of the GRT would involve constructing new trails, but other sections involve simply connecting pre-existing trails and paths. This includes sections of a paved multi-use trail in Ukiah, and the Humboldt Bay Trail between Eureka and Arcata.

The segment of trail that would traverse the Eel River Canyon is still several years away from construction, if it gets built at all.

State Sen. Mike McGuire, a key supporter of the GRT, said that paved multi-use sections that could accommodate pedestrians, bicycles, and other uses could cost up to $900,000 per mile of trail, while more rugged backcountry sections would cost closer to around $300,000 per mile.

But even in remote, backcountry sections like the Eel River Canyon, infrastructure projects like parking lots, public restrooms, camping areas and day-use sites could potentially transform the landscape, along with the daily lives of those who live alongside the trail.

The Draft Master Plan published by the GRTA claims the trail would generate $169,000 per day in revenue and that small towns and communities that have struggled due to the collapse of cannabis prices would benefit the most.

On the Round Valley Reservation in Covelo, Michelle Merrifield reflected back on her experience touching that remote section of the Eel River for the first time.

“It was so breathtaking. It’s awesome. I would love to share that. But I just can’t trust people would treat it the way I would treat it. These trees are talking to us, the river is talking to us, the rocks are talking to us. Everything comes alive to me out there. And it sickens me that they’re going to have people just traipsing up and down there who are just hikers or thrill seekers.”