Are you ready for another adventure in Big Sky Country? Follow me then to the headwaters of Montana’s largest river, the Clark Fork. Space does not permit us to explore its three hundred mile westward journey along the I-90 corridor. Its tributaries; Rock and Flint creeks, the Blackfoot, Bitterroot and Flathead rivers swell its size as it crosses into Idaho, on its way to the Columbia.
In the interests of brevity let us focus on a site just west of Butte at the confluence of the Silver Bow and Warm Springs creeks forming the source of a mighty river. We are not visiting there for aesthetic reasons. In places the topography looks more like a rugged moonscape with mounds of mine tailings giving witness to a bygone era.
Montana has earned its title “The Treasure State” the hard way, from the massive amounts of gold, silver and copper that were hammered, dug and blasted from its hill sides. One hundred years ago copper was king in Butte, Opportunity and Anaconda.
But King Copper was a harsh taskmaster. In rain storms heavy metals from the mining residue would leach into the feeder creeks until they ran red with toxic wastes. These pollutants would eventually find their way into the upper section of the Clark Fork until not even the algae could survive. Tons of heavy metals flowed downstream one hundred miles until they settled at the base of Milltown Dam.
In 1950 the Environmental Protective Agency got involved, when arsenic was detected in the drinking water. It was then that this area became the largest reclamation project in the United States. As part of a waste treatment system, settling ponds were constructed close to Anaconda. Water flowing into a pond was treated with lime salts causing the impurities to precipitate out and settle to the bottom. As this filtered water was transferred from pond to pond it became more and more pure, until it could support aquatic life in great abundance. A century later the Clark Fork is back, a testimony of nature’s power to heal itself and man’s sacred duty to assist in the process.
But you ask; where is the paradox? Who could have predicted that the copper capital of the world would become the trout capitol of the state? People from near and far are drawn there not for scenic beauty but to battle trophy trout in those Anaconda settling ponds. That’s true, huge trout in excess of fourteen pounds can be caught. The vegetation growing on the surface of the ponds has become a friendly environment for insect life, which nourishes the trout to surprising size. The anglers are doing their part also, by practicing a strict catch and release policy. Given half a chance nature is full of surprises. Is that not a paradox?





