‘The Inner Light Is Aqueous’

Western Friend: What inspired you to become a water quality scientist, and what led you to study freshwater and the creatures within it?

Kelsey: I’m curious if you could tell me the inspiration for the theme of "Rivers" for this edition of Western Friend?

Western Friend: When I was being interviewed for the position of Editor, I made a list of themes that I was interested in, and “Rivers” was an important one to me. I've gone on some river rafting trips, and I felt those were times outside of time where I could be a full human being. I often go on river trips with my partner's family, and I feel like it's so much more wonderful than spending Thanksgiving together. Everybody's on ‘river behavior’. For me, that means, in addition to trying to stay safe and wear your life vest and keep your shoes on at camp, I think people are also just more aware that all we have is each other when we're out there.

One time I saw a bear on the Snake River in Hells Canyon swimming and stopping to eat some berries. I saw the bear as a part of my wider family because we want to do the same activities, which include eating berries by the riverbank. Additionally, rivers are a really nice metaphor for life. Sometimes you eddy out, and it's kind of boring, and sometimes you're in the rapids, and you really have to be resourced, have situational awareness, and remember that the best rescue is a self-rescue. I’ve since realized that people don't automatically think of what I just described when they see the word ‘River’. Thank you for asking me that.

Kelsey: I love ‘river behavior’ and the eddy out metaphor. Thanks for sharing; now I can jump in. I grew up next to a river in California: The Kaweah River, that flows out of Sequoia National Park. I have always had a strong connection and feeling of home next to rivers. My first introduction to exploratory and question-driven learning was on the riverbank. What are these fish doing? Why does the algae grow on this side of the rock? These were simple questions, but also opportunities to learn about aquatic ecosystems from a sense of wonder and play.

Like any science-nerd child, I wanted to become a marine biologist because that is the upper echelon of all sciences. I didn't have a lot of examples of freshwater or aquatic ecologists in my life, despite living next to a national park. That discipline is not necessarily as visible or celebrated as the marine biologists that are studying the really charismatic megafauna.

Despite my excitement for marine biology, I ultimately decided to go to Guilford College, which doesn't have a marine science program. However, I quickly found my place studying urban rivers and streams. I still had a dream of becoming a marine biologist and pursued a study abroad program in the Caribbean, where I got to scuba dive and study Bonaire’s vibrant coral reefs. Shortly after graduation, I was working in Yellowstone National Park on a Yellowstone Lake invasive species removal project. I confided my marine biology aspirations to my boss, and he said, “You know, there are a lot of great positions in aquatic ecology; maybe you should pivot. Marine biology is pretty competitive.” That guidance, along with multiple summers working on aquatic restoration in Sequoia National Park, helped me understand the diverse career opportunities studying freshwater ecosystems; it was a turning point.

It was the culmination of excellent experiences with high alpine lakes in the Sierras and the glorious ecosystems in Yellowstone that solidified my love of rivers and inland waters. Being underwater and scuba diving still captivate me, but it’s also exciting to explore freshwaters that are just as imperiled as our oceans. Rivers, after all, are at the heart of my science origin story, and it seems appropriate to have come back to them.

Western Friend: Can you tell me about your trip down the Colorado River? Were you with a tour group or self-guided, and who went with you, and what animals did you meet?

Kelsey: It was a self-guided trip. I had just left Wyoming, and my partner and I relocated to Southwestern Colorado. We literally just unloaded the truck when I received a text from a graduate school friend that said, “Somebody has backed out of our Grand Canyon trip. Who wants to come?” With minutes’ notice, I said, “Yes, I'm there, sign me up.”

I knew two of the 15 people on the trip. It ended up being a family-oriented trip, and many of the people had connections to Haines, Alaska. Seven people that were on the trip had already rafted the Grand, and a couple of them had done it numerous times. It was wonderful to have their wealth of knowledge. There were also many people who had never gone on an overnight rafting trip, myself included. It was really fun to have the mixture and the gamut of experience.

As far as the animals we met, the bighorn sheep were the most impressive for me. Seeing them stand at attention as we floated by was incredible. They were clearly thriving in rugged terrain with sheer walls of rock and drop-offs.

There were also toads, rattlesnakes, lizards, and sucker fish. Someone brought a blacklight, so we were able to look for luminescent scorpions at night. We didn't find any until I was headed back to my tent; we found our first scorpion of the night very close to my tent. We also had some cute mice board our boats occasionally in search of food. There was one we didn't realize had boarded until we were mid-rapid, and it starts running laps around the boat. Luckily, we were able to successfully get it back to land, but on a downstream beach, so the relocation was a little bit tragic for the little creature.

Western Friend: What was the peak moment for you in the Grand Canyon?

Kelsey: It’s hard to not mention the thrill and the panic of seeing multiple boats flip over on Horn Creek Rapid. We were just downriver from this other group at a scouting point. There was the panic of having people overboard in a big rapid. Part of the party was on one side of the river, part of the party was on the other side, and kayakers in my party were retrieving people out of the water. It was a group effort to right their boats, which were loaded with gear. As an inexperienced rafter, to see that whole process and experience assisting another party in crisis helped solidify the bonds between my rafting party and was an important lesson in the camaraderie the river requires.

There are so many incredible side hikes and canyons to discover during the 21-day trip. We laid over (spent two nights camped) at Buck Farm Canyon and took a long hike to explore the canyon, scrambling over house-sized boulders and stemming through canyons reverted everyone back to a childhood state of play and exploration, and the yipping and hollering of everyone reverberated through the canyon walls. We also stopped to explore Elves Chasm, filled with beautiful cascading waterfalls and draping ferns.

Our party had brought different types of watercraft, from 18-foot rafts carrying all the gear to duckies (inflatable whitewater kayaks) and stand-up paddleboards. It was really fun to try all the methods of going down rapids. You’d be surprised how challenging even the smallest riffles are on a paddleboard, so it made the long miles and minimal rapids in the first half of the trip thrilling.

Our trip spanned most of October, and the weather was excellent, flows were great, and most days were warm and sunny. I paddled through the Gems and Roaring Twenties (a series of consecutive rapids) in a ducky and got to experience, exactly like you said, self-rescuing so many times. I learned how to see the lines through the rapids and paddle hard despite seeing a wave train coming at me. It’s hard to describe the thrill of making it out of a huge rapid either on your boat or in the water. These days of paddling a ducky boosted my confidence to paddle through Lava Rapid (the largest and most notorious rapid in the canyon), which is where the first boat in our party flipped. It was the first boat down the rapid, and the rest of the party watched from above before scrambling to get down the rapid and help. Despite the chaos I’d just witnessed, I decided to paddle the rapid in my ducky. And, of course, I also flipped and got to swim through Lava, which was exhilarating. We were easily able to right our raft that flipped—everyone and everything was safe. Remember, Friends, always rig to flip!

Western Friend: Do you have other favorite rivers other than The Grand (Colorado River)?

Kelsey: How much time do you have? This might take a while. As I said earlier, I grew up on the Kaweah River, which flows through my hometown near Sequoia National Park. As a Californian transported to the East Coast for college, I learned about the differences in how rivers have historically been treated and capitalized on across the country was eye-opening. My perception of rivers growing up inland California was that rivers are dammed and their water is stored and used for irrigation. The concept that so many rivers on the East Coast flow freely to the ocean was mind-boggling for me. The Kaweah flows freely for a relatively short distance and then ends in a reservoir and is sent through irrigation canals throughout the Central Valley. The Kaweah provided a lot of lessons both in the backyard setting that I shared earlier, but then also in the importance of water in California and the West.

It’s a dynamic and powerful river, one of the steepest in the nation. It carves away these steep canyons that are incredible and fairly inaccessible. Those sheer, polished cliffs were my childhood playground. As I grew older, I could see that everyone in the community has a strong connection to the Kaweah. It was a rite of passage to spend a lot of time at the river. It feels kind of unheard of for teenagers to be so connected to and excited about spending time outside, so I feel grateful to have grown up in a culture that really valued the river and our natural surroundings.

When I moved to North Carolina for Guilford, I met Maia Dery and other professors who cultivated my curiosities. Maia was an instrumental force at Guilford. She created a place-based program focused on the Cape Fear River Watershed. We explored the Cape Fear River, visiting communities and farmers who witnessed its immense changes. We also met environmental stewards protecting the river and saw old textile mills reclaimed as community centers. We learned about water quality and changes from industrialization; the Cape Fear River propelled my curiosity about urban waterways and restoration.

My time on Bald Head Island, at the Cape Fear River’s mouth, further solidified lessons about human-river interactions. I gained a deeper appreciation for barrier islands and the transient connections between river and ocean. Observing how fresh or brackish water impacted local animals and plants provided a scientific perspective.

Sociologically, it was interesting to learn about Bald Head's development. It's a place of opulence and privilege, yet unlike other coastal communities, it invested in ecosystem protection. These investments are visible in areas critical for storm and hurricane resiliency. The community insists on housing guidelines, like building on the secondary dune, allowing the primary dune to break storm surges. It is rare to see a community developed with such intention toward environmental considerations.

Obviously, the Colorado River holds a really special place in my heart after spending so much time there in 2023. I remember visiting the rim of the Grand Canyon as a teenager and deciding, “I don't really think I can appreciate this until I'm in there.” It was the dream, my unvocalized bucket list, to eventually raft the Colorado. Getting the opportunity, I knew in a matter of minutes that I couldn’t pass that up.

I now live in the Animas River Watershed, which is a tributary to the San Juan River. We’re not far from Mesa Verde and other ancient Puebloan dwellings. It is fascinating to learn more about indigenous communities, past and present, and their connection to water in this arid landscape.

After moving around to so many different places in this country and learning about people's connection to rivers, not only from a recreational standpoint but also an ecological and an economic perspective, I see that these connections are extremely diverse. My connections to rivers and the reasons I hold rivers dearly is also diverse.

Western Friend: Do you have a spiritual connection to water?

Kelsey: Water is a connecting feature within all of us. It’s my personal feeling that maybe the inner light is aqueous. Water connects you and me and connects communities near and far. I think that aside from feeling deeply grounded and centered whenever I spend time in the water, there is this other physical or embodiment of spirit in water. There is a parallel for me between spirituality and understanding our space in this world. We have an ability to impact water and change water; our actions have ripple effects. We collectively need to protect the water within us, as well as the water within others, and of course, the water that is not yet within us.

Western Friend: I love the idea that the inner light is aqueous. I'll be thinking that one over for a while. How does Quakerism show up in your life, and do you connect any Quaker values with water conservation? It seems like you do.

Kelsey: I have always felt that there is a greater mission that I'm hoping to serve. That mission [is] trying to protect the environment and do good for the people, for the water, and for the creatures that depend on clean water. Those threads between my mission, Quakerism, my intellectual curiosities, and professional trajectory are intertwined.

I work for Colorado's Department of Public Health and the Environment. My job focuses on setting protective regulations for water quality standards. Asking what amount of pollution is allowable in the river? I'm trying to provide a voice to the fish and the bugs in the river and also the communities that have historically never had a seat at the table and are not included in these conversations about water regulations and water quality in Colorado. Specifically, folks who are underrepresented or facing numerous health inequities. This work is deeply grounded in the Quaker value of equality and recognizing that every being deserves clean water. These animals deserve a home that is habitable, and people deserve water that is safe to recreate in and drink. When we can be free from the worry of needing to attain fresh water or worry for the animals that are dying in our rivers, that lifted burden brings a community more into alignment. Having clean water and a healthier environment brings us all peace, and that’s what I keep working for.

*Kelsey’s thoughts and feelings are her own, not those of the State of Colorado.