In North Carolina rivers, cleanup after Helene tests ecology and recovery

WOODFIN, N.C. — Nearly a year after the floodwaters unleashed by the remnants of Hurricane Helene swept across western North Carolina, volunteers and workers are still pulling debris from rivers and streams, a process that now sits at the intersection of rebuilding and ecological preservation.

Clancy Loorham, 27, fought the current in waist-deep water to wrench a broken length of PVC pipe from the muddy bottom of the French Broad River. He peered inside and shouted to fellow cleanup crews riding rafts, canoes and kayaks stacked with plastic pipe and other man-made detritus. “I got a catfish in the pipe,” he said with a mix of astonishment and relief. “He’s right here. I’m looking him in the eyes!” It’s been just a year since floodwaters from Helene’s remnants tore through the region, washing pipes from a nearby factory into the river and sending some pieces downstream to Douglas Lake, about 90 miles away in Tennessee.

The pipes, slick with algae and river silt, now harbor life as the recovery work proceeds. Helene killed more than 250 people and caused nearly $80 billion in damage from Florida to the Carolinas. In the North Carolina mountains, rainfall totals reaching as high as 30 inches (76 centimeters) turned once-gentle streams into raging torrents that swept away trees, boulders, homes and vehicles, shattered flood records and carved new channels.

In the rush to rescue residents and restore normalcy, some fear that the cleanup itself could compound Helene’s ecological toll. Contractors hired to remove vehicles, shipping containers, shattered houses and other large debris from waterways sometimes treated the river as a corridor for movement, according to conservationists. “They were using the river almost as a highway in some situations,” said Peter Raabe, Southeast regional director for the conservation group American Rivers. Conservationists found instances of contractors cutting down healthy trees and removing live root balls, said Jon Stamper, river cleanup coordinator for MountainTrue, the North Carolina-based nonprofit leading the work on the French Broad.

“They slow the flow of water down. They’re an important part of a river system, and we’ve seen kind of a disregard for that,” Stamper said.

The Army Corps of Engineers said debris removal missions “are often challenging” due to the large volume storms can leave behind across a wide area. The Corps said it trains its contractors to minimize disturbances to waterways and to prevent harm to wildlife. North Carolina Emergency Management noted that debris removal after Helene considered safety and the environment and that projects reimbursed by the Federal Emergency Management Agency met agency standards for minimizing impact.

Hannah Woodburn, who tracks the headwaters and tributaries of the New River as MountainTrue’s Upper New Riverkeeper, said waters are muddier since Helene, both from storm-related vegetation loss and from heavy machinery used during cleanup. She said the changes have been bad for the eastern hellbender, a “species of special concern” in North Carolina.

It is one of the world’s three giant salamanders, capable of growing up to 2 feet long and weighing more than 3 pounds. “After the storm, we had so many reports and pictures of dead hellbenders, some nearly a mile from the stream once the waters receded,” Woodburn said. Of greater concern is the Appalachian elktoe, a federally endangered mussel found only in the mountains of North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. Helene hurt the elktoe, but human-caused damage remains a factor, said Mike Perkins, a state biologist.

Perkins said some contractors coordinated with conservation teams ahead of river cleanups and took precautions, while others were not as careful. He described snorkeling in the cold Little River and “finding crushed individuals, some of them still barely alive, some with their insides hanging out.” On that river, workers moved 60 Appalachian elktoe to a refuge site upstream. On the South Toe River, home to one of the region’s most important populations, biologists collected a dozen and took them to a hatchery to store in tanks until it is safe to return them to the wild. “It was shocking and unprecedented in my professional line of work in 15 years,” Perkins said. “There are all of these processes in place to prevent this secondary tragedy from happening, and none of it happened.”

Andrea Leslie, mountain habitat conservation coordinator with the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, said the experience should inform future recovery efforts. “To a certain degree, you can’t do this perfectly,” she said. “They’re in emergency mode. They’re working to make sure that people are safe and that infrastructure is safe. And it’s a big, complicated process. And there are multiple places in my observation where we could shift things to be more careful.”

Like the hellbender and the Appalachian elktoe, humans also cling to the rivers. Vickie and Paul Revis lost a portion of their Swannanoa River front when Helene surged through their bend of old U.S. 70. With the land paid for and no flood insurance payout forthcoming to relocate, they stayed put. After a year living in a donated camper, they will soon move into a new house — a double-wide modular home donated by a local Christian charity — built atop a 6-foot mound raised on the property. Paul has reclaimed the riverfront using rock, fill dirt and broken concrete dumped by friendly debris-removal contractors, and his wife planted marigolds and a weeping willow for beauty and stability. They have purchased flood insurance and hope never to face a similar flood again. “I hope I never see another one in my lifetime, and I’m hoping that if I do, it does hold up,” Vickie said. “Mother Nature does whatever she wants to do, and you just have to roll with it.”

Back on the French Broad, the work continues. MountainTrue is supported by a $10 million, 18‑month grant from the state for the meticulous task of removing small debris from rivers and streams. Since July, teams have removed more than 75 tons from about a dozen rivers across five watersheds. Red-tailed hawks circle overhead as the flotilla glides past willow, sourwood and sycamore banks painted with goldenrod and jewelweed. The tranquil scene belies the upheaval of Helene’s year, and the fear felt by many who live near the rivers.

“There are so many people who are living in western North Carolina right now that feel very afraid of our rivers,” said Liz McGuirl, a crew member who once ran a hair salon before Helene put her out of work. “They feel hurt. They feel betrayed.” Downstream, as McGuirl hauled up another length of pipe, a catfish swam out again. “We’re creating a habitat, but it’s just the wrong habitat,” crew leader Leslie Beninato said ruefully. “I’d like to give them a tree as a home, maybe, instead of a pipe.”