Oregon Farmer Turns 70‑Acre Barley Field into a Booming Wetland Sanctuary

When Karl Wenner took over Lakeside Farms near Klamath Falls in 2017, he inherited a patchwork of fields, drainage ditches and, inevitably, a lot of water. The land sat on the edge of Upper Klamath Lake – a place famous for its migratory birds but also plagued by runoff that dumped excess phosphorus into the water, sparking algae blooms.

Instead of fighting the flood‑prone section of his 400‑acre property, Wenner asked himself a simple question: what if, rather than draining it, he let the water stay? In 2021 he made the decision that would look odd to many of his farming peers – he turned roughly 70 acres of barley fields into a semi‑permanent wetland.

The conversion wasn’t a hasty slap‑dash job. Engineers and ecologists worked together to carve shallow basins, meandering channels, low dikes and a handful of islands. Those features act like natural sponges: water moves more slowly, giving plants and sediments the time they need to trap nutrients and sediments before the water ever reaches Upper Klamath Lake.

That design also let Wenner keep the rest of his farm in production. So, in a sense, the property became a hybrid – part farm, part wildlife refuge – an experiment in blending agriculture with ecological restoration.

And nature answered faster than anyone expected. By October‑November of the first year, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service recorded over 20,000 ducks using the newly created habitat. Since then, tens of thousands of ducks, geese and swans have stopped by, and at least 140 bird species have been spotted, ranging from the humble sparrow to the regal bald eagle.

It wasn’t just birds. Otters slipped onto the islands, beavers began building lodges, and muskrats found safe cover among the reeds. The visual transformation was striking, but the botanical shift was equally impressive. Researchers, using pollen gathered by honey‑bees, found that plant diversity had roughly doubled within two years. Native wildflowers and grasses reclaimed space, while invasive weeds were identified and pulled out.

Perhaps the most heart‑warming chapter of this story involves two fish that have long been on the brink: the Lost River sucker and the shortnose sucker. Both are federally listed as endangered and hold cultural significance for the Klamath Tribes. Their numbers have been decimated by habitat loss and poor water quality, especially in the shallow nursery areas they need as juveniles.

To give these fish a fighting chance, the farm’s wetland was shaped to include shallow ponds and backwater zones – the exact kind of environment that once existed around Upper Klamath Lake. In a coordinated effort with state wildlife agencies, thousands of juvenile suckers were released into these ponds over the course of the project.

The goal wasn’t merely a temporary boost in head‑counts. Scientists wanted to see if the restored wetland could actually support the fish through the vulnerable early stages of life. In May 2025 they partially drained the wetland to take a census. The results were encouraging: 50 adult‑sized suckers – some as long as 16 inches – were recovered, indicating that the fish not only survived but grew to maturity in the recreated habitat.

Beyond the obvious wildlife wins, the wetland also serves a practical purpose: filtering agricultural runoff. By intercepting water that would otherwise sprint straight into Upper Klamath Lake, the wetland reduces phosphorus loads, helping to curb the algal blooms that have plagued the lake for years.

Wenner’s gamble shows that, with a little imagination and a willingness to experiment, farming and conservation don’t have to be at odds. Instead, they can complement each other, turning a flood‑prone, nutrient‑laden field into a vibrant, multi‑species sanctuary that benefits both nature and the people who depend on it.