The Green River Tavern. Green River Frame Shop and Gallery .Green River Cove Tubing. The Green River Brew Depot. Green River Barbeque. Green River Adventures. Green River Well and Pump.
Everyone one of those businesses is trading on the good name of the Green River. Some literally depend on its waters to pay their bills. Take the river out of the county, and there’d be a big hole to fill, not just on the map, but in our economy. It doesn’t just keep a few river guides employed, its trout attract fly-fishing aficionados from far and wide, and turbines at two dams along its course make a decent little contribution to our electrical grid. The Green River is clean, it’s well protected, (thanks to the state game lands), and it’s an essential feature of Polk County’s identity. When someone in Henderson County wants to build an asphalt plant in the Green River watershed, you can count on a fair bit of opposition from Polk County. There’s a good reason there’s a thin blue swoosh in front of the mountains on the logo for Polk Lore.
But in between public controversies over problematic development proposals, how often are the Green River’s ecological, cultural, and economic significance raised in public conversations? There’s no Environmental Protection Agency for Polk County, and none of our municipalities sit right along its banks.
Fortunately, there are people who are paid to worry about such things. One of them is Erica Shanks, who this month took over as the Green Riverkeeper. She works for Mountain True, which is a regional environmental non-profit that, among a long list of other things, monitors the health of the Green River, and looks out for potential threats. She also happens to live in Saluda, just a few blocks from me. Even though she’s new to the job, she agreed to sit down for an interview, outside, in her yard, early this month.
Further reading