SCOTT DETROW, HOST:
A bamboo plant native to the southeast is making a comeback. When it grows in dense colonies, it can help prevent floods like those brought on by Hurricane Helene nearly two years ago. Katie Myers with Blue Ridge Public Radio and Grist reports on rivercane.
KATIE MYERS, BYLINE: Basket weaver Mary Thompson is a member of the Eastern Band of Cherokee. She says rivercane has been a vital tool for the tribe for thousands of years.
MARY THOMPSON: We used it for housing, for roofing, for toys, for musical instruments, for weapons, for storage vessels, basketry.
MYERS: Despite its many uses, 98% of rivercane has been cut down throughout the southeast to make room for agriculture and development. That makes it hard to find. So Thompson often ends up trekking hours away from home to reach it.
THOMPSON: We don't have that access to it on a regular basis. We've gone as far away as Barbourville, Kentucky.
MYERS: Now, rivercane is making a comeback as flood control, a welcome sight for Thompson.
THOMPSON: Now I think that people are starting to recognize the science behind what we did as a tribe.
MYERS: And the tribe, along with universities and conservation groups, is helping to drive rivercane plantings all over the southeast after Helene unearthed flooding vulnerabilities in the region.
(SOUNDBITE OF WATER FLOWING)
MYERS: On a hot day, a crew of planters in Fairview, North Carolina, unload precious cargo from a truck - plastic tubs containing little rivercane plants set in about a foot of soil. They will line the banks of Cane Creek. The crew takes small clumps of tubular roots, called rhizomes, and puts them a foot into the soil. Adam Griffith (ph) has planted close to a thousand rivercane stems since Helene, on behalf of the Eastern Band of Cherokee.
ADAM GRIFFITH: Its ability to withstand periods of drought and flood are higher when the density is higher and when the stand is larger.
MYERS: If these roots make it, they'll grow into huge clusters of cane.
(SOUNDBITE OF SHOVELS DIGGING)
GRIFFITH: They'll form a super dense jungle gym of rhizomes and roots underground, and that's what stabilizes the stream banks during the floods.
MYERS: Since Helene, Griffith says he's seen a surge of interest in rivercane among nonprofits and universities.
GRIFFITH: There are many seats at the rivercane table. Everyone's welcome. We take all kinds.
MYERS: Over the mountain, at Warren Wilson College, Hazel Partington (ph) is one of several students who's pulled a seat up to the table. She's admiring a stand of rivercane along the Swannanoa River. In some spots, the feathery green fronds are taller than her.
HAZEL PARTINGTON: And yeah, I didn't really know anything about the plant before we started, and now I feel like I'm obsessed with it. One of our program partners calls people who are really into rivercane Caniacs (ph). So we're all proud Caniacs now. We love the stuff.
MYERS: The Caniacs have planted a lot of rivercane, and they've also spent a lot of time convincing others, like power companies and nurseries, to do the same. She's struck by the plant's history and how it offers a simple solution to floods.
PARTINGTON: We almost eradicated those ecosystems, and now we're coming back to being like, oh, they served a purpose.
MYERS: She hopes replanting rivercane not only prevents flooding but also keeps Cherokee traditions alive. For NPR News, I'm Katie Myers in western North Carolina.
DETROW: Blue Ridge Public Radio's Laura Hackett produced this story.
(SOUNDBITE OF J DILLA'S "REQUIEM") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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