When you think about it, most of the conservation buzz for us anglers who deeply care about such things is farther away.
What I mean by that is for Angelenos, catching steelhead means climbing into the car to drive to the airport (because your good buddy wouldn’t think of taking you to LAX), then an airplane, flying to Sacramento or Redding, renting an automobile, hitting the Trinity, or the Klamath or the Rogue. It’s a simple fact of the fishing world. Big river fish are in wilder places.
For many years now, I’ve advocated that while hoisting a chrome is certainly a sign that God loves us, fishing locally isn’t to be forgotten. Stalking the San Gabes in search of wild trout is such a thrill. And if you want to fish locally, you need to have a place in which to do it. All you trash pickers in the San Gabriel Mountains National Monument, all you stubborn advocates of the LA, I love you for all the volunteer hours you’ve put in!
Which brings us to the “taking care of what ya got” part of this story. The clever title of this book, “Rewilding the Urban Frontier: River Conservation in the Anthropocene,” uses two current catchphrases in turn. “Rewilding” is defined as “a conservation approach that involves restoring large areas of nature to their natural state.”
How would that truly apply to the Los Angeles River? I doubt the city, nor its homeowners, renters and visitors, would like to wake up one morning to find the LA was once again slipping its course. Flooding, after all, is how our river became encased in concrete and what gave the Flood Control folks an iron grip over conservation efforts.
Back in the day the river’s course could meander over several miles within its alluvial flood plane. So actually “rewilding” the LA? Not gonna happen.
Still, we’ve all waited patiently (and not so much so) for the Army Corps to make good on its promise to at least naturalizing a section of the river near downtown sculpting it to a more natural state, to bring back cooler water temps, shade and more fish-friendly environs. And watch this space for an upcoming article in American Fly Fishing about Trout Unlimited South Coast Chapter’s efforts in the lower river.

For all the money spent, actual “rewilding” is a misnomer. Many scientists, activists, politicians, and good hearts have tried to make things better for years, and maybe that’s enough. To my mind, a wildlife corridor, though essential, is not rewilding.
Of the word “anthropocene,” there can be no doubt that we live in an age in which the human hand has touched just about everything on Earth. The thing I find tricky about this definition, “the proposed name for a geological epoch following the Holocene, dating from the commencement of significant human impact on Earth up to the present day,” is precisely that it advocates for a geological epoch. Isn’t it a bit fanciful to include human activity as creating a geological epoch? Climate change, yes, leading to increased heat and wildfires, certainly, but to me geologic means something more.
Pegging efforts to the 1972 Clean Water Act, which acted as a catalyst for water clean ups during an era of both budding environmental awareness and explosive urban growth, the book tackles two separate tracks: ideas about preventing further loss of biodiversity; and conversations about environmental and social inequities.

Brian B. Rasmussen, a professor at Cal Lutheran, wrote the Los Angeles chapter. He contacted me a few years ago and we had a nice chat about all things “riverly” as we used to say. My thoughts are included in his chapter, which dwells mainly on the inequities of the “white river” and the “minoritized river,” in other words “fishing for fun, not food.” The lens through which he views the LA is certainly worth a read, especially for its history of carp and how they got here. The name of his chapter, after all, is “Angling in the Anthropocene: Carp and the Making of Race on the Los Angeles River.” A feature on the homeless fishing for food came out a couple of years ago in High Country News.
Finally, if you’re interested in this topic, Gonzaga Climate Institute will host a YouTube conversation with the book’s editor and some of the contributors on Tuesday, Oct. 22.
See you on the river, Jim Burns

















