#pit river

Pit River Falls, CA (No. 1)

The Pit River is a major river draining from northeastern California into the state's Central Valley. The Pit, the Klamath and the Columbia are the only three rivers in the U.S. that cross the Cascade Range.

The longest tributary of the Sacramento River, it contributes as much as eighty percent of their combined water volume into the Shasta Lake reservoir; the junction of their Shasta Lake arms is 4 miles (6.4 km) northeast of Shasta Dam. The main stem of the Pit River is 207 miles (333 km) long, and some water in the system flows 265 miles (426 km) to the Sacramento River measuring from the Pit River's longest source.

The Pit River drains a sparsely populated volcanic highlands area in Modoc County's Warner Mountains, passing through the south end of the Cascade Range in a deep canyon northeast of Redding. The river is so named because of the semi-subterranean permanent winter homes and large 'sweat houses' that the Pit River Tribe dug, and their pit traps for game that came to water at the river.

The river is a popular destination for fishing, fly fishing, and rafting in its lower reaches, and is used to generate hydroelectricity in the powerhouses below Fall River Mills where the Pit and Fall rivers join, and at Shasta Dam. It is also used extensively for irrigation and conservation purposes.

“The wearing of long hair by the male[s] is not in keeping with the advancement they are making, or will soon be expected to make, in civilization. . . . a non-compliance with this order may be made a reason for discharge or for withholding rations and supplies.” 1/11/1902

File Unit: Book 1B, 8/24/1901 - 1/12/1903

Series: Letters to the Superintendent from the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, 1900 - 1914

Record Group 75: Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, 1793 - 1999

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first posted in facebook may 18, 2023

judith lowry -- "welgatim's song" (2001)

"when i began to formally exhibit, many of my works were visual interpretations of the maidu/pit river creation stories that my father told me, stories that his grandmother told him. these tales had come down to him through many generations, and now to me and to his grandchildren. with my father's encouragement and blessing, i came to consider my work to be a modern extension of the tradition of storytelling" ... judith lowry

"in 'welgatim's song', lowry portrays the native california story of inundation. the protagonist is welgatim, wife of the mythical coyote weh-pom. weh-pom has fallen in love with the beautiful deer suh-mim and so plots to murder his wife. each morning, welgatim reappears unharmed and makes breakfast for her husband. she warns him of terrible consequences, but weh-pom will not be dissuaded from his plots. the next morning he awakens to an empty home and when he sets out to hunt finds all the light and heat extinguished. using song and prayer, welgatim has summoned all the clouds and rain to the earth as punishment" ... crocker art museum

"oral traditions are being threatened by modern pressures, distractions, and the passage of time. before these allegories are lost in the fog of a distant past, i work to preserve these stories by making them visible. it’s a calling and a responsibility because i also recognize that the old maidu stories are allegories. they paint a picture of the moral values of my ancestors, who were peaceful, industrious, reverent people who walked gently upon the earth. now more than ever, their ways should not be forgotten" ... judith lowry

Reckless California Killing Contests Continue Despite Ban on Prizes

From:  Animal Legal Defense Fund ~ WINNING THE CASE AGAINT CRUELTY

Posted by Jennifer Molidor, ALDF Staff Writer on February 3, 2015

This weekend, February 6-8, the town of Adin, in the rural northeast corner of California, will hold its annual coyote killing spree, the “Big Valley Coyote Drive,” despite the 2014 ban on prizes for killing furbearing animals in contests. Last week, concerned…

"Emerging from a people whose narratives reflect our understanding of the world, the universe and life, and knowing that the first land upon this earth was created exactly where our homeland is today, it is difficult to accept "civilization" as an institution of value. It remains more like an intruder. But as Grandpa Ramsey Bone Blake would say, "Don't complain, Babe. Don't complain. Just do it better." it is not that I would like to make "civilization" any better, but I would like to see arrogant technology bow before the wonderful and magical powers of life and the universe."

My dad was and is a great hunter and a good fisherman.  He is 82 now and not getting around quite as well as he used to, but I have memories of when he could get around very well indeed.

The Pit River used to be a mighty, wild, remote and scenic river.  This story comes from the 60s just before some of it was lost forever beneath dams. The stretch I am talking about was above Shasta Dam near the town of McCloud.  Dad knew that the dam was being raised and this would be our only chance to fish this river, which had a reputation for having HUGE Rainbow Trout in it.

To prepare for this trip, Dad, my brother Daniel and I went to Cache Creek over by Clear Lake to our “world famous” hellgrammite hunting grounds. This place is different from any other I have ever seen, as the hellgrammites live under rocks on the shore, not in the creek.  And they are bigger and uglier than any other I have ever seen too.  We caught a ton of them that day for our big trip.

We camped overlooking the river with a great plan to wake up before dawn and follow the rough trail to the mighty Pit just at daybreak.  It was early spring and very cold that night.  The next morning we discovered that our prized bait was frozen solid in the bait box.  We were horrified, but we had brought some spinners, so we trudged ahead.

The river was a long way down, but we were young.  Dad must have been in his late 30s so he could still do more than most men, and Daniel and I were teenagers, so there was no problem there.  As we got closer we began to hear a dull roar, which got louder and louder as we descended.  When we saw the river, it was so huge and fast that Dad panicked and didn’t want us boys to go anywhere near it.  We were going to watch Dad fish until we got to a safer spot, so he started to rig up.  I opened up the bait box just to see what was left of the hellgrammites, and I could not believe my eyes.  The suckers had come back to life!  This excited and bewildered all of us.  Those things were as solid as ice before, and now here they were wiggling around, looking for something to bite.