Remembering Martin Litton

From the Green River to the Redwood Forest to the Grand Canyon, Martin Litton was unapologetically dedicated to the defense of wilderness in the American West. As a journalist and a boatman he was openly passionate and sometimes downright angry, critically weighing in on some of the region’s most contested environmental battles. Litton’s efforts achieved lasting results, not only setting him apart as one of the most respected and effective conservationists to date, but propelling the environmental movement into mainstream consciousness as well. He was an accomplished outdoorsman, river running legend, Grand Canyon outfitter and an integral protector of the wild places he loved. Litton died Sunday at his home in Palo Alto, CA, at the age of 97.



Litton fell in love with wilderness as a teenager when he and a friend rented burros and spent 12 days climbing Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He was a pilot in World War II before tackling environmental issues as a journalist for the Los Angels Times, Sunset Magazine and as board member of the Sierra Club. His work eventually landed him on a Grand Canyon river trip and he was immediately hooked. He founded a river company called Grand Canyon Dories and ran commercial river trips in the small wooden boats until the mid 1980’s, all the while continuing the outspoken activism that he had become know for.


Though he spearheaded campaigns that turned the tables in numerous environmental battles, one of Litton’s most recognized accomplishments is his contribution to the defeat of two proposed dams on the Colorado River within the Grand Canyon. By publicizing the government’s plans for the dams, scrutinizing their research and writing about their process, he helped bring the nation’s focus to the Grand Canyon like never before. He nearly single-handedly convinced the budding Sierra Club to take on the cause of the Grand Canyon and he used his own boats and skills as a boatman to row the dam’s most powerful proponent through the corridor of the canyon itself. Ultimately, Litton was instrumental in convincing politicians and the public alike of the Grand Canyon’s intrinsic value as an untouched wonder and irreplaceable national treasure. The Sierra Club’s anti-dam campaign eventually led to the defeat of both Grand Canyon dams in the critical months just before the project would have been finalized, eventually flooding parts of the Grand Canyon and changing it forever.


Here is author Kevin Fedarko’s telling description of Litton addressing a board meeting of the Sierra Club in 1963 at the Jack London Hotel in Oakland, CA. In this excerpt form Fedarko’s book, The Emerald Mile, Litton implores the club to take up the fight against the Marble and Bridge Canyon dams.

 “He began by declaring that it didn’t make a hoot of difference that the canyon might not look any different from the top if the dams were put in. The river was the essence of the place, its heart—the thing that had not only carved and shaped the rock but also sustained the unique and fragile ecosystem at the bottom. If the river were dammed, the spirit of that place would vanish, and what replaced it would be a poor substitute: a pair of stagnant reservoirs whose surfaces would endlessly and noisily be crisscrossed by powerboats and houseboats and water-skiers.


What this amounted to, Litton continued, was the annulment of a space whose value resided not in the fact that it was accessible, but rather in that it was isolated and untrammeled. Indeed, access to the masses was the very thing that would destroy what made the place so precious by canceling out those elements that the canyon now possessed in abundance—the silence, the solitude, and the fact that it was so implacably cut off from the rest of the world. Those qualities were as fragile as a little wooden boat, and as Roosevelt’s words clearly implied, the willingness to nurture and protect such treasures amounted to a national test of character, as well as a covenant with future generations of Americans. A test that the Interior Department and the Bureau of Reclamation had demonstrably failed. Inside the canyon, Litton thundered, Interior and Reclamation are interlopers, and we don’t have to surrender to their scheme because the place doesn’t belong to them. It’s our canyon. It’s our national park.


As for the idea that the government was too big and powerful to confront head-on, Litton’s contempt was scathing. Of course it will be an uphill battle, he said. Of course our resources are limited and our numbers are few. But in God’s name, how can anyone in this room look themselves in the mirror if we don’t resolve to go after this with everything we’ve got?


 Historians often minimize or discount the impact that any one individual can have on human destiny—and for good reason. Given the broad tides in the affairs of men, and the complexity of the forces that shape and change history, it is almost always a mistake to ascribe too much significance to the actions of a single person. But even the most jaded observer can concede that, every now and then, a man or woman steps up to the plate and takes a mighty swing that clears the bases and fundamentally changes the game. In the Jack London Hotel that morning, this is what Litton achieved.”

 To read more about Litton’s life, his work and his lasting impact on the conservation movement and river running, check out the links below.


http://www.latimes.com/local/obituaries/la-me-martin-litton-20141202-story.html#page=1


http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/12/141202-grand-canyon-dams-colorado-river-martin-litton-conservation/

More About the Remembering Martin Litton

Sandy beach inside a cavern overlooks a river, with red rock canyon walls and a blue sky.
February 15, 2026
The Colorado River below Glen Canyon Dam flows through the lower reaches of Glen Canyon on its way to Lees Ferry , forming one of the most studied and discussed stretches of river in the American Southwest. Released from the base of the dam, the water is typically clear and tightly controlled. In recent years, however, lower water levels in Lake Powell have caused releases to come from shallower depths, warming the river compared to past decades and changing the conditions downstream. This reach is calm and approachable, making it a popular destination for kayaking, rafting, fishing, and flatwater exploration. Visitors often take time to linger along the banks, explore side canyons, and pull over at small beaches and alcoves—experiencing the river at an unhurried pace that encourages observation and learning.  Quick facts about this stretch of river naturally help frame why it matters:
Glen Canyon Dam with bridge and canyon walls under a blue sky. Water flows towards the dam.
February 12, 2026
The Dirty Devil River joins the Colorado River at River Mile 169.5. John Wesley Powell camped at this confluence on July 28, 1869, describing the tributary as extremely muddy and foul-smelling. Jack Sumner later named it the Dirty Devil. The Dirty Devil is formed by the confluence of Muddy Creek and the Fremont River near present-day Hanksville, Utah. The Fremont River originates at Fish Lake and flows along the Waterpocket Fold through Capitol Reef National Park. Muddy Creek drains the San Rafael Swell. Historic Context — Powell’s Expeditions: Powell’s 1869 expedition recorded the Dirty Devil as both a geographic reference and a warning. In his later expeditions of 1871–72, Powell returned with improved boats and a scientific mandate. Tributaries such as the Dirty Devil became fixed reference points for mapping and geologic observation. Powell’s journals note the heavy silt load and poor water quality here, and his party avoided using the Dirty Devil as a water source when possible.
Camping gear on a sandy beach near a red rock wall and river under a cloudy sky.
February 12, 2026
Camping and Dining