Wood rivers merge
to form Malad River
Canyon plunge
contributes to an electric finale
For the
past two weeks, the Mountain Express has traced the Big Wood River in its
various manifestations along its 111-mile-route to the Snake River. Today,
the Malad, "The Canyon River," takes center stage.
By GREG
STAHL
Express Staff Writer
The story
goes that the Malad River was named when a party of French trappers became
ill from eating beavers on the river’s shores early in the 19th century
and called it "Malade," meaning "sick."
The Malad River cuts through the north rim of the Snake River Canyon below the Interstate 84 bridge to enter Malad Gorge State Park on its final run to the Snake River.
Express photo by Willy Cook
The Malad
slices through the Snake River Plain south of Gooding, carving out an
impressive gorge through deep volcanic lava flows. It is one of the most
scenic sections of the Big Wood River’s basin, and its steep rock walls
could give cause for more than one stomach to turn while peering into the
canyon’s depths.
Historians,
however, have not substantiated the story of the Malad’s naming, and
beavers are all but gone from the river’s shores.
But there’s
another irony to be found in the gorge’s 250-foot-high rock walls. If
the Malad, which is formed by the merging of the Big and Little Wood
rivers, flowed historically at the same rates it does now, the canyon may
never have been formed.
Upstream
water consumption drains enough so the Malad simply pours, rather than
roars, into the Snake River during most of the year. In fact, historic
floods probably contributed significantly to the modern-day spectacle.
And the
Malad, like its upstream tributaries, is used for human benefit.
Hydroelectric power plants contribute significant scars to the
12-mile-long river’s banks and vertical canyon walls.
But the
Malad, one of the shortest named rivers anywhere, is also especially
productive for fly fishermen, indicating its relative health as an aquatic
system.
Geology and
orientation
The Malad
is formed at the confluence of the Big and Little Wood rivers several
miles west of Gooding, where the two Wood rivers tumble through moderately
deep volcanic-rock-lined gullies and converge in a deep pool, about 30
feet below the Snake River Plain’s fertile fields.
A diversion canal feeds Malad River water to a hydropower plant.
Express photo by Willy Cook
Downstream,
the river continues to carve through ancient layers of volcanic rock and
drops over a 100-foot waterfall into The Devil’s Washbowl, on the north
end of 652-acre Malad Gorge State Park.
Rockhounds
will find the two-and-a-half-mile-long gorge a fascinating example of
Idaho’s diverse geology, which is at the core of the Hagerman Valley’s
rugged charm.
"It’s
just beautiful here," says Twin Falls resident John Coverdale during
a visit to Malad Gorge with his wife, Sheila, and daughter, Lindsay. The
family spent part of a summer afternoon leaning over a bridge in the state
park, peering down into the steeply pouring torrent 250 feet below. It’s
a place Coverdale said his family visits several times a year to enjoy
Mother Nature’s handiwork.
But the
canyon is too large to have been eroded by the small river that flows
through it now, according to University of Montana geologists David Alt
and Donald Hyndman. The canyon is carved into a complex of bedrock
terraces, alcoves and balconies.
Probably,
the gorge was the beneficiary of water that cascaded across Southern Idaho
during the Bonneville Flood 15,000 years ago. The flood gouged out
canyons, moved house-sized boulders and left enormous sand bars throughout
the Snake River Canyon and in the Snake’s tributary canyons.
The flood
occurred when Lake Bonneville, a significantly larger version of the Great
Salt Lake in Utah, overflowed into Idaho over what is now called Red Rock
Pass south of Pocatello.
The flood,
which occurred over a period of a few months and drained about 600 cubic
miles of water from Lake Bonneville, filled the Snake River Canyon in a
catastrophic torrent that overflowed the canyon’s rims.
Overflowing
water likely returned to the main flood channel in the Snake River Canyon
through side canyons, including Malad Gorge, where torrents shredded away
volcanic deposits left by the plain’s shield volcanoes.
The fact
that the Malad Gorge is covered with black boulders of melon gravels —
smooth and rounded rocks — is evidence that the massive torrent was a
player in its formation.
Like many
places on the north side of the Snake River, Malad Gorge is also riddled
with large springs that cascade down the steep rock walls or bubble into
the river’s cobblestone bed. The springs mark the meeting of the Snake
River Plain Aquifer with the canyon, transforming groundwater to surface
water.
Like other
major water sources in Idaho, much of the Malad River’s flows are
diverted to generate power and irrigate fields, but the springs that
remain resemble historic conditions and contribute clear, cold water to
the gorge’s flows.
Just
several hundred feet downstream of The Devil’s Washbowl, springs clear
the Malad’s cloudy waters, contributing about 1,000 cubic feet per
second of water. In times of drought when the Big and Little Wood rivers
have dried up, the springs renew the Malad’s journey to the Snake River.
All of the
springs are in the lower four miles of the canyon and contribute clear,
bluish water with a slight iridescence. The verve of a healthy-looking
river emerges.
The electric
river
The first
of the Malad’s four hydroelectric facilities sits on the confluence of
the Big and Little Wood rivers, where the two streams carve smooth walls
in volcanic rock and converge to form the Malad.
Owned by
Gooding-area residents John Koyle and his son, Dennis, the plant draws
water from the Big Wood and returns it through three turbines to the Malad,
right on the lava-rock-lined confluence. The Koyles’ plant almost has
enough capacity to feed Gooding’s power needs, Dennis Koyle says.
Koyle, who’s
also an executive board member of the Wood River Watershed Advisory Group,
says the Malad’s four hydroelectric plants, along with the gorge’s
springs, contribute to the river’s overall health by filtering and
diluting the river’s sediments.
Sediments
increase a river’s ability to absorb solar heat, and warmer rivers are
less attractive to riparian plants and animals, he says.
Sediments
are primarily introduced to the system by irrigation return canals, rain
runoff and the river’s natural churning nature, but are removed from the
system at the hydro plants, where settling ponds are used to filter water
before channeling it though turbines.
"When
this river hits the Snake River, it’s pristine quality," Koyle
says. "I see the Malad as pretty much a trouble-free section of
river."
Downstream,
in the Malad Gorge, two sizable diversions transfer the river’s water to
canals that feed Idaho Power Co.’s Lower and Upper Malad hydroelectric
projects.
The two
plants were re-developed as part of Idaho Power’s post-World War II
construction program. The Upper Malad Power Plant has a generating
capacity of 8,270 kilowatts per hour. It includes a diversion dam on the
Malad, a concrete gravity flume and a powerhouse with a generator.
The water
from the upper project joins water from another diversion and is channeled
to the Lower Malad Power Plant.
The Beaver
River Power Co. built the lower plant in 1911, and Idaho Power acquired it
in 1916 when the company was formed. The Lower Malad Power Plant diverts
water from the Malad to a one-generator powerhouse that can produce 13,500
kilowatts per hour. It dumps the water directly into the Snake River, a
few hundred yards downstream of the Malad’s mouth.
Under a
minimum flow agreement, Idaho Power must leave at least 70 cubic feet per
second of water in the Malad’s historic channel.
Russ Jones,
Idaho Power spokesman says his company’s ability to produce
hydroelectric power is critical to supplying electricity to Idahoans.
"During
typical years, Idaho Power can generate 60 percent of its needs from
hydroelectric plants," he says. "Idaho Power has 17
hydroelectric power plants along the Snake River and its tributaries,
including the Malad plants. And the Malad plants are two of the smaller
ones.
"Hydro
power is very, very important to Idaho Power. It’s cheap to produce. It’s
also important to the citizens of Idaho."
This year’s
low water, combined with an expensive wholesale electricity market,
prompted the power provider to raise its rates for the first time in
decades. It was a controversial move, and the company has since begun
building a gas-based electricity plant to reduce reliance on water during
lean years.
"If we’d
had a normal snowpack, we wouldn’t be talking about these things,"
Jones says.
Though the
Malad’s power plants contribute to river health by helping to remove
sediments and quench a growing electricity demand, there’s a tradeoff.
Where
industrialists see a productive resource not going to waste, naturalists
see a river that doesn’t flow at potential levels, and diversions,
particularly in the canyon, that are unsightly.
Water, industry
and potential ghost towns
As a member
of the Wood River Watershed Advisory Group, Dennis Koyle is responsible
for protecting the interests of business and industry as they relate to
water use throughout the Big Wood, Little Wood and Malad basins.
"We
live in a desert," he says. "Without that water, there wouldn’t
be much purpose of the city of Gooding even being there. It was the water
coming here that really gave this area life. If we were to lose this water
or something happened that would take agriculture away, there wouldn’t
be much business or industry that would exist here."
Koyle
acknowledges the myriad uses for water in the basin and says preserving
the river and water quality for all related uses is important.
However, he
says, "I feel like we have a tradition that is established through
generations. When I sit on that board, even though I recognize the value
and importance of preserving that river, I don’t think it should be done
at the expense of business and industry.
"I am
much more interested in education and training and incentives than I am in
legislation. I think most people want to be good stewards. Most people
will do what they can to clean up their act."
Full Circle
From the
"Scenic River’s" tourism and municipal use to the
"Working River’s" sugar beet and corn production to the
"Canyon River’s" hydro plants, uses for the Big Wood River’s
water are truly diverse.
A stream
bed that once flowed freely for 111 miles between Blaine County’s
mountains and the Snake River, is corked, manipulated and managed. Its
waters are the life blood of economies and communities that would shrivel
under Idaho’s relentless summer sun were rivers and their water to
vanish.
From the
time a snowflake lightly settles on Galena Summit to the moment the same
water molecule tumbles into the Snake River in the Hagerman Valley, 18,000
years might pass — if the drop of water ever makes it that far.