The 18-foot boat rocks gently on the lapping waves of the river. The crisp autumn leaves have mostly fallen from the tree canopy, leaving a sky of bare wooden branches along the shoreline. The cool weather has emptied the river of casual boaters and summer traffic; only the dedicated remain on the water now. Among them is Theaux Le Gardeur, transfixed on the morning shimmer of the water.
He listens closely to the whispering sounds of nature around him. The flapping of an osprey’s wings, the train whistle of the nearby Amtrak line, an eagle calling in the distance — Le Gardeur is attuned to it all. He moves with deliberate precision, carefully testing the water’s pH and dissolved oxygen levels. As riverkeeper, many consider Le Gardeur the voice of Gunpowder, but Le Gardeur believes the river can speak for itself.
“A lot of folks would kind of view this as a Lorax thing and say, ‘You’re speaking for not the trees, but for the river.’ I’d rather say, we are not speaking for, we are really just reminding people to listen.”
Le Gardeur serves as the Gunpowder riverkeeper, an essential role in protecting the watershed. His job is to pay meticulous attention to what others easily ignore. A spike in E. coli at a popular swimming spot, an increase in the population of invasive species, or most recently, a wastewater runoff permit that doubles daily discharge — nothing escapes Le Gardeur’s watchful eye.
His profession is a blend of science, advocacy and education. When not found on the monitoring skiff, community members will spot Le Gardeur speaking at a county council meeting, collaborating with local officials and leading environmental education initiatives. He has become a trusted, steady presence in Baltimore County.
Theaux Le Gardeur has spent his life immersed in the great outdoors. His father once dreamed of being a park ranger, but took the more traditional route to become an attorney instead. Still, he ensured that his family’s life was spent learning about and convening with the environment. Growing up in the backcountry of Louisiana taught Le Gardeur about the delicate balance of nature. Le Gardeur spent his childhood fly-fishing, hiking and “diaper-deep” in the Bogue Falaya River. He spent his childhood summers in Highlands, North Carolina. There were only two attractions in the Highlands to keep Le Gardeur occupied as a child: The library, where he carefully chose a stack of books to read on the back porch, and Highlands Biological Station, a forest nature preserve he could get lost in for hours.
While reading about the environment was an important component, the real learning took place deep in the forests and rivers of the south. In high school, Le Gardeur went to a two-week marine conservation camp at Dauphin Island Sea Lab in Alabama. He spent his days identifying fish species, monitoring water data and spending time outdoors. Le Gardeur’s time at camp solidified that he was meant for a career in environmental work. It was a natural next step to earn his degree in marine science.
After graduating from the University of South Alabama, Le Gardeur moved to North Carolina to work as a fly-fishing guide and retailer at a local outdoors shop. He loved educating visitors on the surrounding nature and sharing his love for the sport. After spending some time as a traveling fly-fishing rod salesman in Montana, Le Gardeur moved to Maryland to take over his friend’s fishing shop. He renamed the establishment from “On the Fly” to “Backwater Anglers” and became a permanent installment in the Baltimore County community. Over time, Le Gardeur noticed a discrepancy in the environmental services in the area and lack of advocacy and litigation work being done. Since Le Gardeur was already connected to the outdoors community, he decided to found the Gunpowder Riverkeeper nonprofit to advocate for the surrounding nature.
“Riverkeeping is a way to work while still getting to feel like a kid again,” said Le Gardeur.
An ideal morning as riverkeeper for Le Gardeur involves putting on a pair of muck boots and standing in the local streams to test bacteria levels and listen to the sound of running water. Field work keeps Le Gardeur grounded.
“Doing water quality work is being both busy and quiet. I think busy and quiet are not often put together,” said Le Gardeur. “You might say busy and frenetic, or busy and stressed, or busy and tired, but what the river allows me to do is stay busy but also be quiet.
Oftentimes, Le Gardeur is accompanied by Gunpowder Riverkeeper intern and Towson student, Tristan McGregor. Between Memorial Day and Labor Day, McGregor and Le Gardeur were out on the monitoring skiff every week, taking water samples.
“A lot of these swimming areas in the river are dominated by people who don’t have access to public pools,” said McGregor. “We’re basically creating outreach and having a voice for people who don’t have much of a voice to speak out about environmental disparities.”
However, protecting the river goes far beyond water sampling.
Recently, Le Gardeur’s days have been filled with the smelly topic of landfill runoff. In September, Days Cove Rubble Landfill, located between the Gunpowder and Bird rivers, applied for a permit that would allow the facility to double its leachate runoff into the watershed. Leachate is the liquid that forms when rainwater passes through waste materials. The murky, contaminated liquid flows through the landfill system and ends up in the watershed. If approved, the permit would allow the landfill to increase its daily discharge limit of 12,000 gallons to 25,000 gallons per day.
Days Cove has a history of environmental violations. From April 2023 to February 2025, the landfill exceeded its permit 20 times. An increased amount of leachate discharged into the watershed could have adverse impacts on the watershed’s recreational use, local species population and potential economic consequences for businesses that rely on the river.
Local officials were never informed of the request by the landfill. In a world without the riverkeeper’s watch, the permit could have quietly slipped through an overburdened system. Le Gardeur simply would not allow it. He promptly brought the permit application to the attention of local officials, and soon enough, the entire community was outraged. Hundreds of Baltimore County residents packed a public hearing to oppose the permit. Republican Councilman David Marks proposed a resolution with support from Le Gardeur that would shut the landfill down altogether.
“The riverkeeper is a resource. He delves into the minute details of a lot of these permits. He finds the information that’s helpful to the community and me,” said Marks. “He’s got this kind of Southern charm to him. He’s soft-spoken and very methodical. But when he speaks out, his voice carries and he’s someone we respect. He has been indispensable.”
The Maryland Department of the Environment extended the period for public comment after the hearing; the request is currently still in the process of being reviewed. Marks and Le Gardeur are preparing for a legal battle if the permit is granted. While Le Gardeur is confident stepping in to protect the river, legal measures are never the first course of action.
“Litigation is something that we do as a last resort. It’s not something we use as a hammer. We use that as a tool. We use it after we have exhausted all of the other remedies. Those tend to start with education, then go into outreach, and then finally, advocacy,” Le Gardeur emphasized.
Out on the field, Le Gardeur displays an earnest passion and excitement for the work. He is focused on the task at hand, but breaks from concentration to thoughtfully explain results with calm confidence and incontestable fervor for the health of the Gunpowder. That composure is shown at public hearings and council meetings, where Le Gardeur lays out the facts on impending environmental regulations with clarity and optimism.
“I think that we always have an opportunity to think about a threat to the environment as a challenge, or a threat to the environment as an opportunity. And I like this idea of opportunity,” he said. “We take that opportunity to change. Change the narrative in a public hearing. Change the protection of permit conditions. Change the perception that everything’s okay when, in fact, sometimes it’s not. The riverkeeper role is really speaking truth to power.”
His commitment echoes those who defended the river long ago.
The origins of the “riverkeeper” title date back to 1966 when Brooklyn-born conservationist, Robert Boyle, formed the Hudson River Fishermen’s Association in response to pollution from industrial facilities along the Hudson River. The organization spent the next two decades gaining members and prosecuting polluters. In 1983, the association hired environmentalist John Cronin as the first full-time riverkeeper. On his first patrol, Cronin discovered that Exxon oil tankers were rinsing their holds and stealing water from the Hudson for use in their corporate refinery. In the landmark victory, Exxon stopped the practice and paid $2 million dollars in fines. That same year, Cronin created the Hudson Riverkeeper Inc. and, in 1992, consolidated the organization with the Fishermen’s Association, a unique pairing of environmental and fishing interests.
While Cronin held the first official riverkeeper title, Le Gardeur was quick to acknowledge the colonial history of the Gunpowder River. The true origin of the profession stems from indigenous communities who had a deeply intertwined and spiritual relationship with Maryland’s rivers.
The Gunpowder Riverkeeper is a proud member of the Waterkeepers Alliance, a nonprofit organization that helps connect more than 250 waterkeepers across the country to promote collaboration and connection.
“I am always amazed by the knowledge and connection these waterkeepers share with the rivers. No one knows the river better than them; it is as if they are intrinsically connected to them,” said Bart Mihailovich, director of membership services at Waterkeeper Alliance.
Among those waterkeepers is Patuxent Riverkeeper, Fred Tutman. Tutman quickly became a mentor to Le Gardeur when he first became Gunpowder riverkeeper over a decade ago. Tutman admired Le Gardeur’s gumption and willingness to fight a corrupt system. According to Tutman, many environmental agencies are funded by corporations with a history of pollution and many conservationists are pressured to cooperate with greenwashers in order to keep the lights on. Greenwashing refers to companies that create a false impression of sustainability through deceptive marketing tactics.
When Le Gardeur first became riverkeeper a couple of Maryland conservationists complained to Tutman that Le Gardeur was suing all of the people who used to give them money.
“I thought, ‘Oh, he’s doing his job, right?’ These guys have been greenwashing you for years. Theaux is challenging the status quo. You have to change the underlying system,” said Tutman.
The landscape of environmentalism and advocacy can be political and often exclusionary. Some riverkeepers do not concern themselves with representing the whole of their community, and favor wealthy potential donors over marginalized communities, according to Tutman. It is essential that the riverkeepers involve those they represent.
“Theaux is doing solid work, work that can be replicated by citizens, work that’s done in tandem and in partnership with the communities that he serves,” said Tutman.
Despite the challenges, Le Gardeur is inspiring the young generations to listen to the river.
The Gunpowder Riverkeeper offers scholarships for high school students passionate about environmental protection, provides high school and college-age intern positions and hosts local school field trips to educate on the local ecosystem.
“It’s vital that we keep the community educated, keep the youth educated and get the youth involved, so they understand how important it is to keep the river strong,” said Amiel Bethel, Gunpowder Riverkeeper board member.
Le Gardeur finds hope in the young people who have shown commitment to caring for the nature that surrounds them. He is passing down the family values to his 10-year-old son, Oscar, who spends his time in “streams not screens” as Le Gardeur likes to say it.
“It’s most gratifying for me to see younger people feeling empowered by this work,” said Le Gardeur.