Chasing vision and value in the Central Valley’s last native grassland
Anneli Chow (she/her)
Hometown: Los Altos, CA
Major: Earth Systems, '26
Internship: American Rivers
Anneli Chow reflects on a summer as a river restoration intern at American Rivers – a title fitting for work with wildlife and community benefits that flow from first restoring the San Joaquin River
Where Great Valley Grassland State Park’s single boat ramp meets the San Joaquin River, the water ripples with non-native mosquito fish, darting aimlessly in the murky water. Sparse riparian vegetation along the river bank provides little protection from the stinging Central Valley sun. Dry floodplains surround us, and a single social trail winds through the tall invasive plants that thrive on the unnaturally brittle land. I wonder how many cars whooshing past on the Central Yosemite Highway know that the space they're passing is a state park.
At Great Valley Grasslands State Park (GVGSP), American Rivers is combining levee deconstruction, native plant and animal species restoration, and community outreach to conserve California's largest remaining native grassland, restore the San Joaquin River’s natural floodplain hydrology, and create an accessible and inclusive community space for recreation, environmental and cultural education, and stewardship. During the second week of my internship, when I first visited GVGSP with Kristan Culbert, my supervisor and associate director of California river conservation at American Rivers, I was still grasping the multi-pronged goals of this project. But even then, seeing invasive species growing over the floodplains, feeling the hardly cold or clear river water, and wishing there were more signs to read communicated one thing clearly: this park holds so much potential.
Back in my home office, something strikes me again. This expanse of native grassland sits amidst acres and acres of agriculture fields, like a diamond in the rough. I wonder why this land, seemingly suitable for plowing and planting rows of crops, hasn’t been changed, seeing as agriculture is the most lucrative sector of the San Joaquin Valley. But relief races my wonder and wins. California’s Central Valley has some of the poorest access to green spaces in the nation, and perhaps growing up in the Pacific Northwest made me confident that green spaces – that protect the liberty to walk without waiting for cars, breathe air exhaled by plants instead of pipes, and bathe in the sight, sounds, and streams of free-flowing water – are worth fighting for. Thank goodness this grassland survives.
It survives, but it needs lots of love. To share this newfound affection for the park, I created a factsheet. A few iterations and some suggestions from the Central Valley and marketing teams resulted in a four-page magazine-like spread, telling the stories of habitat fragmentation faced by native wildlife like the San Joaquin kit fox, Chinook salmon, riparian brush rabbit, and fairy shrimp. Though it is a plea to stop the growing of state and federal listings of endangered species, it is also a plan for doing so, illuminating the restoration and river-floodplain reconnection American Rivers works towards. It will be distributed to the public, policymakers, and decision-makers, and join a bank of American Rivers factsheets. My hope is that it will convey that GVGSP will one day be a proper park, but it is home to wildlife first.
Still, in line with their typical ambition, American Rivers aims to do it all. The Great Valley Grasslands River Park Planning Project places a strong emphasis on soliciting community input to ensure park infrastructure, interpretation, recreation, and education opportunities are accessible and aligned with local community needs and wishes. In preparation for public outreach events, I used CalEnviroScreen 4.0, municipality websites, and even a trip to Hilmar Cheese Company to research community demographics, environmental exposure burdens, and existing community spaces. This information told me much about the towns surrounding GVGSP, such as Gustine, Stevinson, Hilmar, and Merced, and came to my aid when writing a Public Access Scoping Report and community survey questions. Writing this report was an opportunity to be extremely critical about the existing conditions of GVGSP, but it also allowed me to imagine people using the park, and push this vivid vision for their sake.
We waited for a few minutes, then the wooden gate before us began to slide, revealing the entry path into the park. A sleek State Parks pick-up truck led us to a parking lot demarcated by evenly-spaced boulders. We were greeted with a warm welcome from park interpreter Julian Morin, who invited us into his truck to begin a guided tour. Julian drove us slowly through dense vegetation, a green marshy area, and the shade of valley oaks and Fremont cottonwoods. He pointed out lines on the tree trunks, that show where river water reaches during flood season. We stopped often for quails crossing the trail. We observed a water pump and cement pillars, which comprise the irrigation system supporting the newly restored plants. We spotted a Swainson’s hawk, soaring purposefully above an area with bunny mounds and blackberry shrubs. After the tour, some of the other State Parks staff invited us into their office for water, and we talked amiably about the PORTS program for youth environmental education and an NPR team coming tomorrow to promote the park opening. Though everything was still emerging at Dos Rios State Park, everything already seemed to be thriving. Dos Rios was a simple space, but it felt inviting, safe, shady, and green. There is so much work to be done to reach this state at GVGSP, but that means there is just as much potential. Working on this planning project has helped me see it as a space that will one day be the place people didn’t know they needed.
With a couple weeks of my internship left, I want to thank my supervisor, Kristan Culbert, the Central Valley team, and all the American Rivers staff who have helped me feel welcome and trusted me with worthy work. Most of my interactions were over Zoom or Slack, but my coworkers’ humanity, humility, and support always showed, testifying to the incredible interconnectedness and robustness of this remote workplace. Over only a couple of weeks, I came to understand that American Rivers is able to impact local to national scales because everyone’s investment in each other's work, wellbeing, and ideas surpasses any desire to simply get the work done. Whoever I was meeting with would always ask me about my work and interests, and I often concluded 1:1 meetings with an abundance of resources or an invitation to chat again. Working as part of the American Rivers community has been fulfilling and inspiring to say the least. I’ll definitely be taking up those invitations.
