Surprised by the black sludge collecting on the Jordan River on Saturday morning, John Hayden rallied his neighbors at the KOA campground near North Temple to help sprinkle stale bread along the riverbank.

"We wanted to keep the birds off the water," he said, adding the impromptu plan mostly worked.

But Hayden was disappointed and stunned that there still were no oil-spill crews around the Utah Fairpark late into the weekend.

"As usual," he sighed, "the Jordan was acting as the valley's sewer."

Similar eyewitness accounts abound regarding damage suffered by the Jordan over the past five days from the 33,000-gallon Red Butte Creek oil spill that originated on Salt Lake City's east foothills.

While workers were dispatched to spread booms across key patches of the river, residents say they quickly were covered in gunk and not immediately replaced.

That neglect is just the latest in west-side slights, gripe residents who argue the east-side response to the environmental calamity is disproportionate.

"I am heartsick about Liberty Park, the birds and the fish, but please don't forget the adage that we hear all the time: 'We all live downstream,' " said Donna Olsen, who can smell the oil stench at her home, two blocks from the river. "There are large stretches where there are no booms and there is no cleanup still. And now they're surprised that they've got something at Farmington Bay? They [Chevron officials] say, 'Surely, it can't be us.' I don't buy it. If it's not in the lake already, I would be shocked."

Small amounts of oil have been spotted in Farmington Bay wetlands near the Great Salt Lake, though Chevron officials reject any connection to their ruptured pipe.

On Tuesday, city officials closed the Jordan indefinitely -- from 1300 South to 500 North -- as cleanup efforts continue. West-siders wonder what took so long.

"It is ugly there. Not only is there an oil slick [on the river], there is absolutely no sign of the wildlife, and the stench is terrific," said Camille Biexei, who lives in Poplar Grove.

Mayor Ralph Becker took a bike ride along the river Wednesday to assess the spill's impact. His spokeswoman says the city is getting conflicting reports about how much of the river has been polluted.

"From our vantage point, everything was handled properly," said Lisa Harrison Smith. She notes booms were set up immediately, the water flow was cut, and crews continually monitored the oil at the Liberty Park pond and the Jordan.

"I don't think anyone in the city is trying to minimize the damage anywhere," Smith said. "It's quite the opposite -- we want it to be returned to the way it was."

Jeff Niermeyer, the city's director of public utilities, says the appearance of oil on water can be deceiving. A visible "sheen," he says, amounts to just 10-parts-per-million, while a single quart can cover an acre of water.

Even so, west-side City Councilman Van Turner said the smell of crude wafting off the Jordan on Saturday "was as bad as it was anywhere else." He also worries that culverts will be difficult to cleanse.

"We've got a struggling water body that has suffered another blow," said Walt Baker, director of the Utah Division of Water Quality.

The Jordan long has suffered as an industrial dumping ground and depository of debris ranging from beer bottles to old tires. The Environmental Protection Agency labels the waterway "impaired."

But, in recent years, the Jordan has been the focus of a valleywide restoration effort, complete with a trail system (which remains open) that lures joggers, bikers and fishers. That renaissance suddenly has suffered a setback that neighbors suggest may be comparable to Red Butte Creek.

Jeff Salt, a conservationist who canoes the Jordan regularly, says the river has turned a corner since the weekend when the booms were "completely saturated." Now the booms are being tended to more frequently.

"It's looking pretty good."

Still, Olsen worries the river's proximity to elementary schools and public parks could pose a hazard to children and pets. Walking the waterway with her husband Sunday from 1300 South to 1100 North, she saw "gobs" of oil floating by the Day-Riverside Library, and ducks and geese swimming in oily water. Oil still coats submerged vegetation, she says, and a ring of black scum still lines some banks.

"I was very, very glad that they closed down the river to public access," she said. "That was my beef all along."

Tribune reporter Judy Fahys contributed to this story.