(Note: There is no mention whatsoever of the United Nations and its Global Riverkeeper program. Nothing is said of the fact that the Nature Conservancy's List of 'Last Great Places' is also the same list as the United Nations Biosphere Reserves. The 'rhapsodizing' by the authors of this article and their painting of this Riverkeeper's supranatural attachment to a stream in Ohio -- calling it 'her' and appearing to attach human emotions to 'her' -- is neither honest nor accurate reporting.)

Summer 2001

By Katrina Smith Korfmacher with Brandon Ott

Steven Flint stops at the edge of the Big Darby Creek. It's the day after a heavy spring rain, and chocolate-colored water is overflowing its banks.

The Darby is a long drive from our college on the other side of Columbus, Ohio, but I bring my environmental studies students here every year. They sometimes wonder why we have come so far to see such a tiny, apparently unremarkable creek. Flint explains the hydrogeology of the creek system, the reproductive cycle of its endangered mussels and the political challenges of curbing residential development in the watershed. The main reason, though, for bringing them to the Darby is not to learn about its ecosystem -- which is amazingly rich -- but to meet Flint himself.

Wearing a baseball cap, flannel shirt, and waders, Flint stands with his back to the creek and speaks quietly. "She is angry today," he says, "I can feel it in my veins. This creek flows in my blood."

My students shuffle their feet. They were prepared for discussions of science and politics, but to hear an environmental professional suddenly conversing about a creek as a living being clearly unsettles them.

Their reaction doesn't surprise me. One local said of Flint, "His interactions with the public are powerful." Steve nets darters from the creek that are so brightly colored that they look like they should be hiding in a coral reef, and he drives around with mussel shells the size of your hand on the dashboard of his truck.

As The Nature Conservancy's River Steward for the Darby creeks, part of his job is to tell groups like ours about the Darby and its needs, and he enjoys the challenge of communicating with different audiences.

Another part of his work is to act as the "eyes and the ears of the watershed," and to bring the problems he sees in the creeks to the attention of those most likely to resolve them. As one colleague explained, "Steve lives in the stream. He comes back and tells us where it is hurt, what is going on and how to protect it. He tells people up and down the river -- farmers, developers, kids -- he tells them all why they need to keep the river healthy. He IS the river."

The Darby watershed encompasses around 580 square miles on the western fringe of Columbus's suburban sprawl. Despite increasing pressure from residential development, the area remains mostly agricultural.

The creeks are subject to some degradation associated with farming and development, but their ecological health is surprisingly good. They support 38 species of aquatic mussels, 2 of which are endangered, and 103 species of fish.

This rich biodiversity was one of the things that prompted the formation of the Darby Partnership, a forum for stakeholders interested in protecting the Big and Little Darby creeks.

The Darby Partners have been meeting quarterly since 1991 to discuss issues related to the watershed and to promote coordination among agencies, nongovernmental organizations and private citizens.

The Nature Conservancy has been involved from the start, and several of its staff are focused on Darby conservation efforts, which include land acquisition, preserve management, data collection, and public education. Steven Flint joined the staff in 1994, bringing to the organization his own special passion for the creeks.

When asked why he cared so much about this particular ecosystem, he replied, "I have a deep-bellied personal attachment to the Darby because? I just do. It is my watershed, I live there, it is unique, and I'm amazed at its ecological diversity despite everything that we have done to it. And it is there for the saving. How dare we let it slip through our fingers."

Flint first became enamored of streams as a boy, when his grandfather took him fishing during family trips to New Hampshire. He brought the interest in fishing back home with him to central Ohio, and by the time he was 12, he was riding his bike 38 miles from his home in Enon, cutting through farmers' fields to fish on the Big Darby.

The love for fishing soon developed into a fascination with aquatic ecosystems as a whole. One of his goals as a young adult was to make enough money to be able to visit streams and rivers all across the country.

When he enlisted in the Air Force, he was thrilled to be stationed at the Lowry Air Force Base near Denver, because it was "the epicenter for dozens of aquatic ecosystems." On the weekends he worked as a fishing guide, one who made sure his clients got "a thorough dissertation on what made the stream tick and why they caught the fish."

When, ten years later, family ties brought him back to Ohio, he saw the degraded condition of the Darby creeks and was shocked.

He left a lucrative landscaping job in the early 1990s to join a group of AmeriCorps volunteers working on hands-on restoration, education and outreach in the Darby watershed. As a supervisor for the AmeriCorps efforts, Flint became convinced that none of the environmental management systems in place at the time was capable of preventing further degradation of the Darby creeks. He believed that the many state and federal programs designed to protect the watershed were poorly coordinated and inadequately staffed.

What the Darby watershed needed, he thought, was "someone who knew every inch of it, from a hands-on, eyes-and-ears perspective, someone who walked it, most of its tributaries, knew where all the stresses were. Someone who would be willing to go out, respond to every concern, every phone call."

He proposed the idea for the position to the Conservancy's Darby programs director and was hired in 1994 as the Darby River Steward.

The idea of a River Steward hearkens back to the 19th century, when wealthy landowners hired river keepers to maintain their streams for recreational fishing. A century later, this task has become much more complex. In addition to understanding the aquatic ecosystem, a present-day river keeper needs to deal with urban runoff, intensive agriculture, and burgeoning residential subdivisions. And there isn't a single landowner to answer to; rather, modern river keepers must navigate within a diverse society of farmers, homeowners, businesspeople, environmentalists, and developers.

In his role as River Steward, Flint compared himself to wood putty -- the job being "to find where the gaps are and go do what needs to be done to fill them." To be successful, Flint had to know every inch of the watershed. Shortly after he was hired, he hiked the whole system -- 84 miles of the Big Darby Creek and 44 miles of the Little Darby. He inventoried the entire corridor, identifying flora and fauna, noting stream bank areas that were highly eroded, and documenting pollution threats from adjacent land uses.

In his initial inventory, Flint found 48 uncharted pollution sources, including a failed septic system, runoff laden with cow manure, and a mobile-home park discharging human waste directly into the creek. He set out to deal with each one. Flint tells the story of introducing himself to a farmer, then leading him down to a ditch on his property that was discharging sediment-laden water right into the creek. Flint said the farmer felt so bad that there were tears in his eyes; he immediately fixed the problem on his own.

In addition to working directly with landowners, Flint helped state and local agencies to identify and address sources of pollution in the watershed. Eventually, all 48 uncharted sources were cleaned up. He emphasizes the importance of working with people to solve problems: "A confrontational approach will not work in the Darbys because there is so much private land. If you skip a handshake with the landowner, that will not help." Maintaining an impartial stance is no mean task for someone so passionately committed to a natural system, but Flint has tried to stand firm. "I'm out here by choice and have to deal with all audiences. It is absolutely essential that I stay neutral."

Through the Darby Partnership, he has worked with a variety of nongovernmental organizations, including a local farmers' group and the Darby Creek Association, a grassroots group that has been active in protecting the Darby for over 30 years.

I once watched him facilitate a roundtable meeting of over 30 Darby Partners, including agency staff members, scientists, elected officials, environmentalists, and citizens of all political persuasions. He used the same skills he uses on the river, treating each individual with respect and encouraging an open discussion, but always keeping the focus on "her," the Darby creeks.

I've seen Flint in action, not only with my students but also other visitors to the creek. He told members of an Audubon group who were identifying wildflowers, "I'm botanically challenged, but if I'm wet I'm all right." He proceeded to use a 'kick seine' to pull up a stunning range of aquatic insects and small fish, all the while giving the group a lesson in stream ecology: "This critter needs squeaky clean gravel bottom; look at the gills! They can't tolerate sediment."

Then he hit the group with the big one: "The Olentangy and Scioto [rivers that run through Columbus] were probably just as healthy as the Darby years ago -- we just decided to build our city around them."

In his role as River Steward, Flint compared himself to wood putty -- the job being to "find where the gaps are and go do what needs to be done to fill them."

He drew the Auduboners' attention to the increasing development of the Darby watershed, which means, he told them, more runoff. "Every time we replace a tree with a rooftop, we add water. We're plumbing the Darby!"

Flint has his own view of the root causes of this destruction: "I think the big issue no one wants to talk about is the schools. All these people moving in don't want to enroll their kids in Columbus schools. If they can fix the schools, the sprawl will slow down." Flint acted on his concern by moving his family from the suburbs in toward Columbus and maintaining native vegetation in his yard.

In the long run, Flint believes, the health of the Darby will depend on pollution prevention, and so he has engaged in a wide range of educational strategies -- visiting schools and leading field trips for students of all ages, and working with local teachers.

His ability to work with farmers has been particularly important in this watershed, which is 90 percent agricultural.

As Flint said, "Farmers trust me because they know I'm not a stream-hugger. They know I fish and hunt."

One of his most challenging outreach situations came early in his career as River Steward, when he found that sewage from a subdivision was leaking directly into the Big Darby.

Recognizing that homeowners might be defensive if confronted directly, he teamed up with a local Girl Scout troop. The scouts' service project that year was to go door to door with Flint, telling residents about the impacts of nonpoint-source pollution on the creek.

Flint credited the scouts' project with developing support for the upgrade of the subdivision's sewage treatment system, which happened soon thereafter.

Flint's tactics were unusual for The Nature Conservancy, an organization that has traditionally focused on addressing environmental threats by buying land.

Flint noted that, especially in the beginning, "It was kind of a risk for them to have someone running amok down on the Darby landscape, but time quickly went by and they've given me a length of chain. I think I brought a certain diversity to an organization that is there because of the diversity of life on earth."

Nonetheless, when Flint decided to leave the Conservancy to follow his wife, who had taken a job in another state, the organization elected not to replace him. His position has been redefined as an Aquatic Specialist who will provide scientific support to the Conservancy's watersheds throughout the state.

Indeed, Flint's role in the Darby, as a kind of ombudsman for the river, would be difficult to replicate. During the six years of his tenure, he was widely recognized as a positive force for the protection of the watershed.

One agency official said, "The River Steward gives us all an ongoing connection to the river and reminds us of the relationship between the actions of our agencies and the natural system."

A Darby Partner added, "There is no one else around to do the work he does. He is serving well both in the level of vigilance and in tactfulness." As yet another put it, "He is a watchdog. Somebody has to do it."

That no single agency or organization has the responsibility to make sure that the parts of environmental management sum up to protection of the whole ecosystem was an important lesson for my students to learn. Steven Flint made this his mission.

Because he saw things from the creek's -- from "her" -- perspective, he could identify the gaps between protection efforts and work through an amazingly diverse array of channels to stop them.

Flint, however, never thought of his position as a permanent one. He once told me that his goal for his work in the Darby was to "hand the reins of this wagon back to the community, and say, 'All right folks, make it or break it. You can either maintain and save this thing or it's going to go the sad way of these other watersheds in Ohio. It is up to you.'"

Flint is convinced that the river steward model can be implemented in other places: "If we can do this in Ohio, you could do it anywhere!" In fact, the Waterkeeper Alliance, an organization that supports stewards of water bodies across the country, has 63 "keepers" in North and Central America.

Similarly, state-level programs that support watershed coordinators have been expanding. But even if it is possible to create positions like Flint's in other watersheds, who will fill them?

In recent years, academic programs have sprouted up to train environmental professionals who can apply their skills to any ecosystem. Many of these multidisciplinary programs strive to provide precisely the kind of background Flint acquired on his own: facility with the natural as well as political aspects of an ecosystem. The root of his effectiveness, though, is something that cannot be taught in the classroom. It lay in his passion for the aquatic ecosystem of the Darby creeks, and in his willingness to learn and do whatever was necessary to protect them.

Katrina Smith Korfmacher is adjunct assistant professor of environmental science at the Rochester Institute of Technology. Brandon Ott is a recent graduate of Denison University.

Darby Partnership, The Nature Conservancy

6375 Riverside Drive, Suite 50

Dublin, OH 43017

614-717-2770

Copyright 2001 Orion Society

http://www.orionsociety.org/pages/oa/01-3oa/01-3oa_darby.html

More on Steve Flint:

Steven Flint got his first peek at nature from the shadows of two giant men in his life, Grandfathers C. Kenneth Flint and Merrill Zimmerman. "Grandpa Flint had me hand-lining for smelt and brook trout in Maine when I was 8, and Pappy and I tightlined at night in Ohio's Mad River 'cause we were hungry."

Some 30 years later, Steven has temporarily returned to Columbus, Ohio with his best catch to date, his wife Rebecca. After initial schooling at Wright State University for Environmental Sciences and Geology, he headed to Denver, Colorado to work in Civil Engineering for Uncle Sam's Air Force. "This was a cheesy excuse to get me to the Rocky Mountains to further my hydrology studies in the field!".

He studied geomorphology and climatic influences, established a guide service for stream trout anglers, and continued to listen to nature. Then he got his first peek at the fair Rebecca, and took her fishing.

They returned to Columbus, Ohio in 1990 so Steven could be closer to his ailing Pappy.

He's currently a Freshwater Conservationist with the The Nature Conservancy, and Rebecca is a wildlife artist.

He's combined his love of aquatic ecology, hydrology, warmwater fisheries, landuse planning, and the ability to listen to nature, to help preserve the Darby Creeks Watershed.

Ohio's Darby Creeks are among the top 5 warmwater habitats in all of North America, despite a rapidly growing and changing landscape. "It is truly an aquatic "Grand Canyon." Teaching freshwater ecology is a significant part of his life and career, and there are ample students with the growth of Columbus.

Steven has always been fascinated by the fragile complexity of riverine ecosystems, but says lurking under that surface slick lies a world of brutal predation. Eat or be eaten. He observes creeks, streams, and rivers as the circulatory systems of our great Nation, their channels flowing with the blood of the earth. "I've long witnessed these remarkable, living, flows winding their way through the landscapes, the flesh perhaps. And if we injure the flesh, we poison the arteries."

Pappy helped Steven catch his first smallmouth bass at age 6. For 32 years he's fished for them whenever and wherever he could. His passion is stalking small stream smallmouths with his handmade Loomis rods and trusty Shimano reels. Casting accuracy & distance, and a sound knowledge of seasonal and behavioral attributes is what he feels are the most important tools in this grand sport we call smallmouth fishin.' The Big Darby Creek is his favorite flow and La Reserve Beauchene in Quebec is his favorite northern lake system.

"I'm delighted to be part of the ethical brethren at River Smallies.com. Your ongoing efforts to assist young adults, big adults, and each other, are why I'm here. I hope I can be of assistance with any questions or concerns regarding these complex ecosystems.

My email address is beyondthebanks@frontiernet.net."

http://www.riversmallies.com/staff.html

River Smallies.com was originally conceived in May 1999. Several anglers known for their love of chasing river smallmouths were assembled for the purpose of creating a site devoted to the river and stream smallie angler. One of the main goals of the site was to promote Catch, Photograph, and Release or Catch and Release. The basic framework for the site was three months in the making. We hope river runners from around the country will find RS.com an enjoyable place to visit and share ideas and experiences with one another!

http://www.riversmallies.com

Steven Flint (Pro Staff Member) is a New York State Department of Environmental Conservation Licensed Guide, Badge #3677. Mr. Flint is also the Invasive Species Project Manager for the Adirondack Nature Conservancy. Steven is a multi-species angler who has pursued smallmouth bass throughout eastern North America and Canada for over 25 years. Steven helped field test the very first prototype Mad Toms and continues to enjoy great success with these lures and other Case products. Steve says "as a professional & ethical sportfishing guide, part of my job is to provide smiles. Using Case Mad Toms often makes those grins just a wee bit bigger. I believe in Case Mad Toms, and so should you!".

http://www.madtoms.com/prostaff2001.htm

Purple Loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) removal during the 2001 Watershed Stewardship Program focused on monitoring sites from the 2000 season while extracting occurrences of spotty individuals, dense aggregate populations, and high priority communities from pre-existing and newly discovered target areas.

In the pre-stages, five removal sites from the 2000 season were visited and entered into a GPS unit for use by Steven Flint as part of the "Adirondack Park Non-Native Invasive Plant Species Initiative," which is a joint venture between the DEC, APA, NYS DOT, and the Adirondack Nature Conservancy/Adirondack Land Trust. Mr. Flint is The Nature Conservancy's "Invasive Species Project Coordinator" and he also served as a contact and resource for the Watershed Stewardship Program throughout the 2001 L. salicaria removal project in the St. Regis Lakes basin. In addition, Mr. Flint spent time cutting and bagging flower heads at the Camp-Regis Applejack high priority site. On July 19th, the Watershed Stewardship Program proceeded with cutting, digging, pulling, bagging, and discarding all L. salicaria material and debris from several locations along the St. Regis Lakes chain. Throughout the ensuing project period additional monitoring and assistance came from Mr. and Mrs. Lewis and Sheila Rosenburg, who are camp owners on Spitfire Lake.

Steven Flint and myself both feel that water and wind are the key transport mechanisms in distributing L. salicaria seed throughout the St. Regis Lakes chain. The invasive has undoubtedly taken hold at Camp-Regis Applejack because of wind, while it has arrived in other sites, such as the slough (S1,S2), by water and/or wind. The slough (between Lower St. Regis and Spitfire lakes) could have obtained it's communities through the rather fierce and consistent westerly and southwesterly winds that whip across Spitfire Lake. Perhaps the dense pocket establishment which is diagonally situated southwest of the slough between Webber's and Rettew's camps (S5) is the origin of the slough's establishment; seed capsules falling into the water could have been carried across the lake by the wind induced wave direction. At Camp-Regis Applejack the community is most dense on it's western side near the camp buildings, and it is sparsely spreading eastward across the sphagnum mat because of the wind.

http://webpages.paulsmiths.edu/~regis/Loosestrife,%20'01.htm

=====

Prairie could return: State aims to add to 3 patches

By Liz Sidoti

The Associated Press

PLAIN CITY, Ohio — A quarter-acre of tallgrass prairie stands out amid acres of farmland, providing as much a reminder of west-central Ohio's history as the weather-worn gravestones it covers.

"It looks like a little colorful postage stamp from up above," Steven Flint, a Riverkeeper with The Nature Conservancy, said as he walked through The Smith Cemetery State Nature Preserve.

About 100 people a month visit the Smith Cemetery and a similar preserve the state manages down the road in Madison County, said Ron Demmy of the Ohio Department of Natural Resources. ODNR manages a third preserve in Union County.

The three small patches are the only remaining native prairie in what once was known as known the Darby Plains. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service proposes to create a wildlife refuge and restore acres of farmland back to its original prairie habitat in the area, which includes the Big Darby Creek and its main tributary, the Little Darby Creek. At Smith Cemetery, chest-high grasses and clumps of bright blooms cover gravestones dating to the 1820s and shelter native prairie animals such as badgers, foxes and birds. Darby Township Trustees dedicated the cemetery as a state nature preserve in 1982.

http://enquirer.com/editions/2000/10/15/loc_prairie_could_return.html

October 7, 1998

8:00 am - pick up students from Suburban Lodge

9:00 am - tour of Darby Creek with Teri Devlin, Steven Flint, and Tim Richardson of the Nature Conservancy; wear "field trip" clothes, as you'll be hiking and taking water samples Afternoon - poster work

http://www2.h-net.msu.edu/~urban/teach/syllabi/morrow_jones1998syl2.htm

NEW IDEAS NOW - DAYTON AND THE EDGE CITIES

Issue #31: February 15, 1998

'Mike Laughrey of the conservation service warned that residential development is moving into the area.

"There is a slow procession of people in three-piece suits coming into our office wanting soil maps and aerial photographs."

Gary Shannon, a member of a farm group task force that opposes the refuge, asked what would happen to the land that the government does not buy.

"Is this going to inflate land values and suck the developers out even faster?" he asked. "They're going to want to build out there because no one is going to be able to build near them."

Hann echoed Shannon's concern about developers moving in around the refuge.

"It's like trying to stop the Mississippi. You stop the water from flowing in one place and it flows somewhere downstream." - Columbus Dispatch, Feb. 10, 1998

The Nature Conservancy's Steven Flint said he is especially worried about a half dozen 30-inch to 36-inch culverts installed during the widening of Rt. 33 near East Liberty in Logan County in recent months.

The new culverts dump the runoff from the highway directly into the Big Darby only about a mile from its source and more than 20 miles upstream from the portion of the creek designated as scenic by state and federal regulations, he said.

At that vulnerable point, the infant Big Darby averages only five to seven feet in width, narrowing to three feet in spots.

The creek is only 10 inches deep at most spots.

Flint called it the "nursery" of the 90-mile long stream.

He said he will be watching this spring to see what effect the "huge pulse of water" produced by the culverts during heavy rains will have downstream.

"That altering of the hydrology in the headwaters of any system -- there could be a heavy price to pay downstream," he said.

In addition, the untreated runoff from Rt. 33 will contain a "witches' brew" of toxic materials, Flint said.

"Don't take that as a warning," Flint said. "I'm just nervous. I'm nervous about the health of the creek."

http://www.interaxs.net/pub/mikemonett/ISSUE31.HTM