Shopping carts, tires, mattresses, and human waste line the banks of Sacramento's Steelhead Creek, all within miles of the state Capitol, while Gov. Gavin Newsom's office celebrates a new round of homelessness spending and claims the crisis is improving.
The New York Post reported that photos obtained last month show trash left by homeless encampments along Steelhead Creek, a waterway governed by a patchwork of local, state, and federal agencies. The images surfaced the same week Newsom's office announced more than $145 million in new homelessness funding and touted a 9 percent drop in unsheltered homelessness statewide.
The gap between the governor's press releases and the condition of Sacramento's own waterways tells a familiar story: billions spent, results claimed, and the mess still there for everyone to see.
David Ingram, president of the River City Waterway Alliance, said his group has removed 3.85 million pounds of trash and debris from local rivers and creeks since it began organizing cleanups in 2023. Along Steelhead Creek alone, volunteers hauled out 724 shopping carts, 897 tires, and 172 mattresses.
Ingram told the Post that the vast majority of the waste traces directly to homeless camps:
"I'd say 90-95% of the debris we remove is from homeless encampments."
That figure is hard to dismiss. It means the state's homelessness policies are not just failing to house people, they are producing an environmental disaster in the waterways that run through California's capital city.
Ingram went further, pointing the finger upstream at Sacramento's political class. He said state policies created the conditions now fouling the rivers:
"Ultimately, some of the state policies that came down from the top ranks created some of these problems in the first place. The state should be more involved in trying to abate some of the problems."
He acknowledged that investments matter but said the pace of progress falls short. "Progress is still not fast enough," Ingram said, "and there are still large encampments causing issues in terms of pollution and infrastructure damage."
Joseph Countryman, a member of the Central Valley Flood Protection Board, described being briefed at a recent meeting on the state of local waterways. He did not hold back about what he heard, trash, feces, and debris inundating the system, with real damage to flood infrastructure.
"We've seen significant damage to the levees, we've seen defecation and urination in the river itself, untreated. These are things I personally can't accept."
Countryman said he supports clearing homeless encampments from floodways but acknowledged the jurisdictional tangle that keeps anyone from acting decisively. "The problem is it's multi-jurisdictional. It's a really complex thing," he said, adding that he is "100% for finding our way through the maze and removing the homeless from the floodways."
That maze is part of the problem. And it is a maze that Sacramento built. When no single agency owns the failure, no single agency faces accountability, which is precisely how the political class prefers it.
The disarray among California Democrats heading into the next governor's race only sharpens the question of who, if anyone, will be held responsible for the condition of the state's public spaces.
Tara Gallegos, a spokesperson for Newsom's office, did not respond to the photos of trash and debris along Steelhead Creek. She told the Post by email that the state has cleared 21,103 encampments on state rights of way since 2021 and has "provided unprecedented financial support and partnership to local communities."
Ryan Endean, a spokesperson for the state Department of Water Resources, offered a similar deflection. He said the department "does not have general authority over illegal dumping, encampments or abandoned property." He added that responsibility "typically falls to local city or county agencies unless a condition directly impacts flood control infrastructure or significantly obstructs flood flows."
Read those two statements together. The governor's office says it has cleared thousands of encampments and spent unprecedented money. The Department of Water Resources says it has no authority over the encampments. And yet the creek banks remain covered in refuse.
Someone is responsible. The bureaucratic buck-passing only confirms that no one in Sacramento's government hierarchy has the political will to own the problem, or the consequences of failing to solve it.
The criticism is not coming only from Republicans or cleanup volunteers. Democratic political strategist Steve Maviglio called out the governor's office on social media on April 8, posting a picture of trash along the American River and tagging state agencies and lawmakers.
Maviglio's post described state-managed land in the American River watershed as "polluted and overrun with encampments" and accused agencies of doing nothing despite repeated calls from state Assemblymembers Angelique Ashby and Maggy Krell.
In comments to the Post, Maviglio did not hold back:
"Literally, this is a human and environmental tragedy in the governor's backyard, and we've got nothing but finger-pointing and zero action."
He drew a sharp contrast between Newsom's willingness to show up for cameras and his absence from the waterway crisis. "If this were a highway underpass, Gov. Newsom would be there in five minutes for a photo-op," Maviglio said.
That line stings because it rings true. In 2024, Newsom joined Caltrans workers to clear a homeless encampment in Los Angeles County, a moment that generated the kind of visual a governor running for national stature wants. Sacramento's creeks, apparently, do not offer the same media return.
Newsom has faced mounting scrutiny on multiple fronts in recent months, from his party's stance on ICE cooperation to his handling of public criticism from media figures.
The new funding round, more than $145 million, will flow to eight regions: Lake, Orange, Riverside, Sacramento, Santa Clara, Solano, Yolo, and Yuba counties. The stated goal is to move people off the streets and into interim and permanent housing while providing supportive services.
Newsom framed the spending as evidence of progress. "We're making critical investments through programs to help local communities expand housing, strengthen services, and better support people experiencing homelessness," the governor said. "But just investing money is not enough, we have to invest in programs and local governments that are producing real results."
That second sentence is worth reading twice. Even Newsom seems to acknowledge that money alone has not fixed the problem. But after years of record-level spending and a crisis that has left nearly four million pounds of trash in Sacramento-area waterways alone, the question is whether this administration is capable of producing the "real results" it keeps promising.
The governor's political future may depend on the answer. With a crowded governor's race taking shape and public patience wearing thin, the gap between Sacramento's press releases and Sacramento's creek banks is becoming harder to paper over.
One of the most telling details in this saga is the sheer number of agencies involved, and the ease with which each one points to the next. Steelhead Creek falls under a patchwork of local, state, and federal jurisdictions. The Department of Water Resources says it lacks authority. The governor's office points to its encampment-clearing numbers. Local agencies presumably point back to the state for funding and guidance.
Meanwhile, a volunteer group, the River City Waterway Alliance, is the one actually pulling shopping carts and mattresses out of the water. Volunteers are doing what a state government flush with homelessness dollars has failed to do.
Countryman's description of "significant damage to the levees" raises a practical concern that goes beyond aesthetics or even environmental health. Damaged levees in a flood-prone region are a public safety issue. If encampments are degrading flood infrastructure, the cost of inaction could eventually be measured not just in trash tonnage but in flood damage.
The governor's combative posture when challenged has become a pattern. But combativeness is not a substitute for results, and press conferences do not clean creeks.
The administration's claim of 21,103 encampments cleared since 2021 sounds impressive in isolation. But set it against the 3.85 million pounds of debris pulled from waterways by a single volunteer group since 2023, and the picture changes. Encampments cleared from state rights of way may simply relocate, to creek banks, riverbeds, and floodways where the jurisdictional maze makes enforcement nearly impossible.
The 9 percent drop in unsheltered homelessness, touted the same week the Steelhead Creek photos surfaced, is similarly difficult to evaluate without context the governor's office did not provide. A 9 percent reduction measured against what baseline? Over what period? In which regions?
When an administration leads with percentage drops while its own capital city's waterways are choked with refuse, the numbers deserve more scrutiny, not less.
The broader political environment in California only adds weight to the criticism. Backlash surrounding the governor's household and a restless electorate have created a climate where Sacramento's failures are no longer shrugged off as the cost of compassion.
What Steelhead Creek represents is not just a homelessness problem. It is the visible, physical consequence of a governance model that spends lavishly, claims progress loudly, and lets the mess pile up where voters can see it, and smell it.
Nearly four million pounds of trash. Hundreds of shopping carts and mattresses. Damaged levees. Untreated human waste flowing into waterways. And a governor's office that responds to photos of the disaster by citing funding totals and encampment-clearing statistics.
Californians who live near these waterways, the ones who walk their dogs along the American River, whose kids play in parks near Steelhead Creek, whose property values and safety depend on functioning flood infrastructure, are the ones paying the price. They did not create the jurisdictional maze. They did not write the policies that, as Ingram put it, "created some of these problems in the first place."
They just have to live with the results.
Sacramento can announce another $145 million. It can tout another percentage drop. But until someone in that capital is willing to own the failure instead of pointing to the next agency in line, the trash will keep piling up, right in the governor's backyard.
