Nothing says quirky Idaho history quite like the 1948 Beaver Drop. In post-WWII, one Idaho community’s pests were another area’s treasures – just ask the likely descendants of a parachuting beaver named Geronimo.

An influx of new residents moved to the town of McCall after the war, disrupting the peaceful lifestyle of the existing inhabitants around Payette Lake. Instead of coexisting like good neighbors, the newcomers complained about the native beavers, who were busy felling trees and building dams. A plan was hatched to relocate the hapless rodents.

After fur trappers had largely eradicated beavers from the American West in the 1800s, the early 20^th century saw a push to restore beaver populations – at least in more remote areas – for their ability to transform depleted landscapes. Central Idaho was considered the perfect place for unwanted beavers: away from people and property, their natural activity would enrich the habitat in their new homeland.

However, getting beavers to the roadless area that is now part of the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness presented a problem. Fortunately, Elmo Heter, then a resourceful officer at the Idaho Department of Fish and Game, had a creative solution. Using surplus parachutes from the war and special ventilated wooden boxes that would open upon impact, his team dropped 76 beavers into the Idaho backcountry. All but one survived.

The first to jump from the Beechcraft monoplane in August 1948 was, of course, Geronimo(!), who had served dutifully as the cash-test pilot in early versions of the quick-release transport boxes. The plunky old beaver was dropped with three female beavers and by all accounts, quickly established a colony in the Chamberlain Basin, beginning the process of creating new habitat for other animal species that rely on restored waterways.

But the novelty of airlifting “nuisance” beavers from developing communities to wilderness areas where their talents as “ecosystem engineers” was respected did eventually fade. Until 2015, that is, when a fish and game historian discovered grainy film of the historic beaver drop and Idaho State Historical Society uploaded the digitized video to YouTube.

Decades after the operation, beavers achieved renewed celebrity, and the innovative relocation project became an Idaho icon. For reasons unknown, the phenomenon of parachuting beavers was never repeated, though. As apex predators made a comeback in the state, it’s unlikely that tasty beavers, unprotected until they were able to build lodges in which to escape, would survive a drop into an open meadow like the Chamberlain Basin.

As it turns out, the North American Beaver (Castor canadensis) deserves its reputation as a keystone species adept at ecosystem engineering. By restoring wetlands, reducing flooding, and improving water quality, beavers are transforming waterways and proving themselves unlikely allies (instead of adversaries) in the fight against climate change.

In Idaho, the positive impact of beavers was evident in 2018, when a mega wildfire ripped through land near a tributary of the Little Wood River in the Sawtooth National Forest. Satellite images showed that while most of the surrounding landscape was torched, areas close to the river where beavers were reintroduced remained untouched by the blaze.