Environment

Yakama elders are fighting to save their “mother of all roots” from a pumped-hydro project that may exist to power a massive data center draining up to 80% of its output while a sacred plateau of irreplaceable plants and ancient heritage faces permanent erasure

By Kelly Lippke · September 8, 2026 · 2:40 PM · 4 min read
Yakama

High on the Washington side of the Columbia River, near the John Day hydroelectric dam, members of the Yakama Nation gathered on windswept ground their ancestors tended for centuries. They came to protest a multi-billion-dollar energy development actively promoted as a clean, green triumph for the Pacific Northwest.

As tribal elders looked out over the high-desert plateau, one haunting question echoed through the crowd: “Going green now for who?” It is an urgent question that cuts straight to the heart of who renewable energy projects are actually built to serve—and who is forced to give something up for them.

A sacred site in the path of a ‘clean energy’ project

The land near Goldendale, Washington, has fed Yakama families for generations. Known as Pushpum—meaning the “Mother of all roots”—the area holds priceless archaeological sites, ceremonial significance, and rare native plant species found nowhere else on Earth. Medicinal roots, seeds, and traditional foods harvested here form an irreplaceable cultural landscape.

Project managers explicitly referenced developing “the world’s greenest IGW + hyperscale data center” alongside Blue Owl Digital Infrastructure.

Now, developers plan to construct a massive 700-acre pumped-hydro energy storage facility directly on top of this sacred ground. Washington state’s environmental review conceded that construction would inflict “significant and unavoidable adverse impacts” on Yakama heritage sites and plant life, yet permits were approved anyway. Adding insult to injury, the site overlaps the contaminated remains of a former Lockheed Martin aluminum smelter, placing another industrial footprint onto unceded tribal land.

How pumped hydro works—and who it’s supposed to serve

The Goldendale project operates as a giant gravity battery. When regional wind and solar farms produce surplus electricity, water is pumped uphill into a high reservoir above the Columbia River. When energy demand spikes, stored water flows downward through mountain turbines into a lower basin, generating fast electricity.

Danish investment firm Copenhagen Infrastructure Partners insists the project could supply on-demand renewable power to roughly 500,000 homes.

However, local utility data reveals a glaring disconnect. Commercial and industrial energy use in Klickitat County has remained virtually flat for a decade, with official utility district projections estimating a modest 3% growth over the next ten years. No existing residential, agricultural, or local industrial demand comes close to requiring a mega-project of this scale.

The data center connection developers won’t confirm

If public energy needs do not explain the plant’s size, private corporate interests do. Filings and land records reviewed by investigative reporters point toward Denver-based STACK Infrastructure as the probable power buyer.

Public filings disclose plans for a colossal 958-megawatt STACK data center complex adjacent to the Goldendale site. Project managers explicitly referenced developing “the world’s greenest IGW + hyperscale data center” alongside Blue Owl Digital Infrastructure. At maximum capacity, that single data center would consume up to 80% of the Goldendale project’s entire 1,200-megawatt output. Meanwhile, Copenhagen Infrastructure Partners refuses to name its buyers, citing only vague “rising regional electricity demand.”

A pattern the Yakama have seen before

For the Yakama Nation, this struggle reflects a century-long pattern across the Columbia River Basin. Early 20th-century hydroelectric dams flooded sacred fishing sites and decimated salmon runs to power expanding coastal cities. Later, aluminum smelters consumed cheap hydropower to manufacture warplane metals.

“I feel like it’s coming too fast, just like the dams came and our people were pushed aside,” says Elaine Harvey, a watershed manager and member of the Yakama’s Kamíłpa Band. Once again, Indigenous communities pay the price for industrial expansion.

What happens next—and who gets to decide

Although state and federal agencies granted essential permits, the Yakama Nation and Columbia Riverkeeper are challenging the approvals in federal court while calling on Washington Governor Bob Ferguson to intervene. Developers promise a cultural management plan, but tribal leaders emphasize that corporate protocols cannot replant extinct flora or restore sacred ground.

Ultimately, the Goldendale battle forces a fundamental reexamination of green energy ethics. When the mask of sustainability is pulled back, the project’s true purpose is revealed: sacred Indigenous land is being sacrificed not to power local homes or decarbonize the public grid, but to feed the insatiable, gigawatt-scale appetite of cloud infrastructure and global tech giants.

Author Profile
Staff Writer

Kelly is an experienced writer with 15 years of experience exploring the big stories that shape our world, from tech breakthroughs and space exploration to climate, energy, and the fascinating quirks of science. She has a talent for turning complex ideas into sharp, memorable insights that stay with readers long after they’ve finished reading.

Kelly Lippke
Kelly Lippke

Kelly is an experienced writer with 15 years of experience exploring the big stories that shape our world, from tech breakthroughs and space exploration to climate, energy, and the fascinating quirks of science. She has a talent for turning complex ideas into sharp, memorable insights that stay with readers long after they’ve finished reading.

Kelly Writer
Kelly Lippke

Kelly is an experienced writer with 15 years of experience exploring the big stories that shape our world, from tech breakthroughs and space exploration to climate, energy, and the fascinating quirks of science. She has a talent for turning complex ideas into sharp, memorable insights that stay with readers long after they’ve finished reading.